Cormac
Ipaused, balanced on the threshold between my garage and laundry room, shocked by the cascade of laughter pouring from the living room.
“Stop,” Keelie gasp-squealed. “Oh my Go—stop it!”
I hurried through the kitchen, my heart hammering, only to stop again as I caught sight of Keelie, bent over, holding her waist, face red with mirth. Ida Jane raised a microphone to her lips and began singing “Sweet Caroline” with the help of the microphone’s karaoke feature. The notes were tinny, and she changed the name to Keelie-Mine.
My grin grew until my cheeks hurt. I’d missed this.Connection. Laughter. Keelie raised her head, and her eyes found mine with unerring accuracy:Love.
Damn, how I loved her.
She brought joy into my world. This was the first time I’d walked through my door to anything other than sterile cleanliness—everything just as I left it. This mess made my house a home—fallen throw pillows, cat fur on my rugs, a hoodie tossed over the back of my couch, and snack bowls and drinks on the coffee table. I’d missed that without even realizing it.
Keelie rose to her full height as I strode forward. We met next to my leather sofa as Ida Jane quit singing, lowering the microphone. I cupped Keelie’s cheek, fingers sinking into her hair and lips, claiming hers as she slid her cool palm up my nape and rose on tiptoe to meet me.
The kiss exploded with yearning, heat, and love. I tilted my head, delving deeper into her warm, sweet mouth. She tasted like caramel corn.
“Wow. That’s some greeting,” I could vaguely hear Ida Jane mumble. “Erm, well, I can see you and Keelie have some unfinished business, so I’ll just skedaddle.”
“You’re not running away again,” Maxim rumbled from the kitchen. He must have stopped there, no doubt entranced by Ida Jane’s clear, strong soprano.
I lifted my head and smiled at Keelie, dropping another brief kiss on her sweet lips. “Missed you, pretty girl.”
She snuggled against me, and my body responded. She raised her eyebrows. “I can tell. I missed you, too. So much.”
I chuckled as I dropped my hands to her hips, enjoying the soft give in her belly against my straining zipper. I nipped at her ear but said nothing because Maxim and Ida Jane were arguing.
“Those two have fireworks,” Keelie murmured, glancing over my shoulder.
“Not as many as us.”
She giggled but moved around me, leaving my arms empty, my chest cooling. I wanted to snatch her back, but she seemed to need to stand next to her friend.
“Of course I came to collect you. I told you I would,” Maxim said. Exasperation sat on his features, his styled hair now mussed.
“I was havin’ fun with Keelie.”
“You can have fun with me.”
“Not the same kind,” she shot back.
Maxim growled. “Better kind.”
At Keelie’s tense glance, I stepped forward. “Coach decided we should fly back for an extra practice tomorrow morning. Our second line turned out a sloppy performance, and he’s not taking chances now that we’re getting close to the playoffs.”
“The win tonight was great,” Keelie said, shuffling until she once again rested against my chest.
“It would have been better if Naese had held his position,” Maxim said. He motioned to Ida Jane. “We should go.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Maybe I wanna stay here.”
“And hear them?” Maxim gestured toward me. Keelie gasped, her cheeks turning cherry red. Ida Jane flicked an uncertain glance our way.
“You saw how they went at it—and that was in public. Wait till they get to their bedroom.”
Keelie quivered beside me. I slipped my arm around her, leaning down to whisper, “I want to smell you on my sheets. I want to do many, many things to you in my bed tonight.”
“See? You don’t want to stay here. My house will be quiet and secure. You can get a good night’s sleep before your big presentation tomorrow.”
