I stare at his mouth as he speaks, mesmerized by the fullness of his bottom lip, the way it curves up slightly higher on one side, the way it looks so soft beside the coarseness of his dark beard. And,fuck, that beard. I don’t know what it is, but it’s so manly, so—
“You okay?”
Shit. I was so busy obsessing over his mouth I didn’t even notice he’d stopped speaking.
I meet his gaze with a nervous laugh. “What? Yes, I’m fine. I was just…”Thinking about your mouth, what it tastes like, how it would feel all over my body.I shiver forcefully at the thought and Michael’s eyes flash, a seductive smile slanting his lips.
Jesus. Am I that bloody transparent?
“Hi, Alex!”
I leap back from Michael as Henry appears in the hallway. “Hi, Henry,” I mumble, sinking down onto the leather sofa and trying to ignore the amused look from Michael. My face heats as I mentally scold myself. What am I doing, thinking these thoughts about Michael? This is Christmas Day—with hisson, for Christ’s sake. I need to behaveappropriately.
Henry flops down on a chair and I turn to him with a smile. “Thanks for letting me crash your Christmas dinner.”
“I’m glad you could come.”
“I’m glad you could come too,” Michael murmurs as he heads back to the kitchen, his gaze briefly meeting mine. That sexy smile is still dancing on his mouth, and it makes my heart kick against my ribs as I raise my glass to my own smiling lips.
“Could you get that?” he calls when there’s a knock at the door. “It will be Agnes.”
“Hello, dear,” Agnes says as I open the door. “Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas.” I take in her outfit—a festive red sweater, slim black pants, and tiny glass Christmas tree ornaments dangling from her ears. As I close the door behind her, gratitude swells inside me to be spending this evening with her and Michael and Henry when I could have been alone. I reach out to hug her and she squeezes me tight.
“Merry Christmas, Agnes,” Michael says affectionately when we enter the living room. He gives Agnes a kiss on the cheek before she lowers herself onto the sofa beside me.
“What a lovely man,” she murmurs, and I have to smile. I can see exactly why she sings his praises so much.
My gaze drifts over to watch as Michael sets a huge turkey down on the table. There’s something incredibly sexy about a man who can cook, which I’d never realized until this very moment. He turns to catch me staring and I blush. When I glance at Agnes, she’s watching me curiously.
“So, what’s new with you, Agnes?” I ask, throwing back the rest of my drink.
“Not a lot I’m afraid, dear.” She smiles as Michael hands her a glass of wine. “What about you?”
Michael holds out the bottle to offer me a refill, and I nod, avoiding his gaze. “Er, nothing. Nothing at all.”
“That’s not true,” he says. “You got some good news with your writing.”
Oh, right. My writing. Shit, since being in Michael’s presence I’d all but forgotten about that. It’s like seeing him has erased my mind of everything else. And that’s not good, is it? What a train wreck.
“Well, yes. There was something with my writing.”
“Wonderful,” Agnes says. “What happened?”
“I got asked to write some articles for a website, and if they do well then I might be offered a permanent job, writing a column for them.” I think back to my chat with Harriet, attempting to remind myself how important this is to me.
“How exciting!” Agnes says. “And what are you writing about?”
Michael sets a dish of green beans down on the table and pauses, listening. It’s like an elephant has barged into the apartment and sat down between us, sucking all the oxygen out of the room, and I feel myself wilt.
“It’s about being single,” I mumble. “And how it can be fun and fulfilling to live without a man.”
Her face lights up. “That’s fabulous! I’ve been without a man for years and I’m just fine.”
I give a half-hearted smile, glancing at Michael. His gaze slides from mine as he turns his attention back to the table, and I suddenly feel guilty talking about this with Agnes when I haven’t even given Michael an answer about what I want. Is he feeling as tortured as I am by this whole situation?
Or—fuck—is all this weird tension in my head?
