“Thank you.” I dipped my head. “You have no idea what this means.”
Kennedy held up her thumb and pointer finger, leaving only a smidge of space between them. “Imighthave an idea, seeing how I’m dating a stubborn athlete and all. I’m glad you didn’t give up, by the way. Brenna seems great, even if she does hate my best friend.”
Deandra poked Kennedy in the shoulder. “As if you’d be any better if you ran into a woman who had slept with Alexei.” Kennedy’s lips fell into a thin line, which sent Deandra into hysterical laughter. “See! Just the thought has you tied up in knots.”
“You’ll understand one day, D,” I said, rescuing Kennedy from having to respond. Her eyes were doing this scary, intense thing. I wondered if my expression mirrored hers when Brenna’s ex-fiancé came to town. “When you meet the right person.”
Deandra huffed. “I’m too busy taking on the world to train some boy how to be a man.”
Kennedy and I exchanged a glance, two people who had been bulldozed when the right person came along. In the best way possible.
It was adorable how Deandra thought she'd be immune or able to fight the feelings. She, like everyone else, would never stand a chance.
41
BRENNA
Now
“Well,good morning,” I crooned when I saw Nathan cooking in the kitchen on Christmas morning.
His sleeves were rolled to his elbows, showing off his strength. I admired what I could see of his tattoos—vines, flowers, and leaves, all dark and sexy. With the red Santa hat on his head, it created quite the mindfuck. I might never be able to think of Christmas without remembering this moment.
The scent of pancakes had beckoned me downstairs, and I followed it to the real prize.
Nathan turned to me, giving me a view of his bare chest through his half-zipped hoodie.Merry Christmas to me.
“How do you expect to make this a wholesome family holiday when you look likethat?”
He grinned, then tugged the zipper to the top, covering his chest. “Better?”
“Barely. And it’s too late. That image is permanently burned in my mind.”
Nathan turned off the stove after flipping the last round of pancakes. He brought a plate to the kitchen table and took a seat at the head. “Come eat some breakfast, Bren. I made your favorite.”
I made a mock-serious face at him. “Don’t think you can distract me with chocolate chip pancakes.”
He forked one of the cakes and waved it back and forth in the air. “I know you want them,” he said, his voice lilting.
Cappie jumped onto the table and lunged at Nathan’s arm. He lifted it higher before Cappie could snag our breakfast. “Down,” he ordered the cat, who immediately flopped to the ground, staring up at Nathan with an adorably innocent expression.
“Real smooth, Sharpe,” I said through my laughter.
“At least someone wants the breakfast I made,” Nathan muttered.
I walked to him, sliding into his lap, one leg draped outside his legs. One of Nathan’s hands landed on my hip, fingers splayed wide. He lowered his other arm, dripping a strand of syrup onto my chest before the bite of pancake reached my mouth.
I grinned at him. “This is what happens when you mess around, Nathan.”
He leaned forward, his head dipping to bring his mouth to my chest, his tongue darting out to lick up the syrup, all while he locked eyes with me. I suppressed a moan each time his lips pressed another part of my skin. He continued moving until his insistent lips landed on mine, deliciously sweet. It took effortto pull back, but I didn’t want Molly’s Christmas tainted by the sight of me devouring Nathan.
“On Christmas?” I said in the cadence of an innocent southern woman sayingI do declare.
He laughed into my skin. “The day doesn’t make a difference, Quinn.”
“Ooh, I can’t wait for Flag Day.”
Nathan tapped my ass as I stood. I yelped, moving quickly to the opposite side of the table.
