Nathan smoothed a wayward hair behind my ear. My smile must’ve been as ridiculously big as his.
“Good to know you don’t think of me as a piece of meat.”
I shoved him, and both of us huffed out laughs.
“That was a first.” I pulled back to stare at his ridiculously handsome face, into those turquoise eyes. He arched an eyebrow. “The… talking.”
One side of his lip lifted. “I like seeing how many ways I can make you come undone.”
“Aren’t you going to ask if I liked it?”
“No need.”
He snagged me around my waist and pulled me to him, as close as possible. He found my lips again, and Imelted.
“Ifelthow much you liked it, Brenna.”
He kissed my forehead once, then rolled off the bed to dispose of the condom. My eyes hungrily took him in—his strong thighs, the toned planes of his abdomen, his haughty, hot expression.
“So did I,” I said, as if this were an argument over who enjoyed our sex more.
Nathan leaned over the bed, a cocky smile still on his lips, and winked. “Hell yeah, you did.”
After both of us cleaned up, we found each other again beneath the sheets, our bodies pressed together. His heart pounded steadily, a soothing rhythm that would put me to sleep if I wasn’t careful.
“Thank you for everything you did tonight.” My finger traced shapes on his chest.
He ran his fingers through my hair, the light touch of his fingertips on my scalp sending tingles down my spine.
“She seems great, Bren.”
“She is,” I agreed. I even enjoyed her when the precocious little kid called me out.
“If I could take everything back, I would.”
He didn’t need to elaborate for me to know what he meant. Ignoring Molly when she was a toddler. Acting like the girl we once thought was his half sister was a stranger.
I nodded, my cheek rubbing his skin. “I know, Nate.”
He held me tighter. “I love that I get to celebrate Christmas with both of you.”
The ball of happiness near my heart expanded against the confines of my chest again. Everything could go wrong this Christmas, and still, it would be the best one I’d ever had.
39
BRENNA
Now
“I think Nathan isyour boyfriend.”
Molly’s legs swung against her chair, her feet hitting the counter at the café. She took another bite of Gemma’s addictive cinnamon roll.
Not that I’d ever tell Gemma, but the quality of her baked goods had declined when she was on maternity leave. She’d returned to baking last week, which meant several specialty menu items became available again. Cinnamon rolls on Saturday morning were one, a special once-per-week event. People often stopped here for coffee after picking some up before heading back home in their PJs.
I wiped down the counter in front of the coffee machines with a rag. “Why do you say that?”
“Boyfriends and girlfriends sleep in the same room.”
