“No one!” he insisted.
“You know what? We might as well get it over with.” She planted her tiptoes on the top step, grabbed his shirt, and pulled him down for a hot, quick kiss. “There—kiss complete.” She went down a step.
Jack couldn’t leave it like that. He couldn’t let his first kiss with this woman be out of anger. He grabbed her shoulders. “I don’t think so.” Her eyes widened slightly. He closed the distance between their lips, stopping just before they touched to give her a moment to back out or push him away. When she didn’t, he took possession of her mouth. Slowly, carefully, he kissed her.
It didn’t take long for her to respond, and the magic of a fantastic first kiss wrapped around them. Her hands hesitantly touched his face, and then she caressed his scruffy cheek before burying her fingers in the hair at the back of his neck.
He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her, never breaking contact. Before he got carried away and deepened the kiss to something more passionate, he pulled back and set her on her feet. “I think that about covers it,” he said softly, gently tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.
“Very thorough,” she agreed, her lids heavy.
Jack grinned. He liked her like this, all pliable and soft. He wanted to nuzzle her neck and hear her sigh. Wanted it so badly his whole being ached with the desire. He held back. Somehow, he knew that pushing her now would be the wrong path. Natasha wasn’t a woman to rush through romance; she was the kind that you valued, cherished, and wooed.
Startling, as if she’d come to herself, Natasha stepped out of his arms. “Well, that’s taken care of.” Her hand went to her lips, but she dropped it quickly. “Time to make cookies.” She pushed the door open and strode into his house.
Jack followed, doing his best to pretend that nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Even though that kiss was anything but ordinary, it was… perfect. Impossible for any other woman to duplicate. Holding Natasha was like holding the other half of his soul, coming home, and all the different ways people described finding their one and only.
He followed her into the main room, where his family quickly swallowed her. Faith stood, one hand covered in red frosting and the other holding Ryder on her hip. “Help,” she said to Natasha, who took the baby and snuggled him under her chin. He snuggled her right back, giving Jack a smug smile.
Jack almost laughed out loud. If he hadn’t been jealous, he would have.
“I’ll wash my hand and be right back,” Faith promised.
“Take your time.” Natasha settled into the overstuffed rocker and soon had Ryder’s eyelids dropping.
Jack memorized the image. “You’re a natural.”
She stroked Ryder’s soft hair. “I’m an overly qualified aunt.”
“Overly qualified?” he asked.
“Eighteen nieces and nephews and counting.”
He let out a low whistle.
“Jack!” Raelynn climbed on the chair next to Jack to talk face-to-face with him. “I want to make a Sparkle cookie.”
Jack glanced around to make sure Ashley wasn’t nearby. He’d done nothing to encourage her interest and would do even less now. The last thing he needed was the eager nanny hanging all over him, especially with Natasha nearby.
“Come sit here.” Faith pointed at the spot across from where Jack stood. She placed a reindeer cookie on a paper plate. “Do you like my Rudy cookie?” She held up her red-nosed reindeer.
Jack smiled. Rudy had a forever friend in Faith. He’d be sorely missed if he made it to Santa’s crew. Remembering his vow to help this little girl find the Magic of Christmas, he took the chair closest to Natasha, which allowed him to face the table. He turned it to see Nat and Ryder from the corner of his eye.
“I want to make a sparkle cookie,” Raelynn said.
Jack reached for the snow-like crystals. “Then you’re going to need these.”
He shook some sprinkles onto a paper plate. “First, we’ll cover her in frosting, and then we’ll cover her in sparkles,” he spoke as if they were conspiring something great.
Raelynn giggled. Jack reached across the table and grabbed a plastic knife loaded with frosting. Sparkles was a buckskin, but white was their closest color to her pelt.
She looked doubtfully at the knife. “You do it.”
Jack shook his head. “If I frost it, then it’s my cookie.”
Her face fell. “But it won’t look good if I do it.”
Jack put a finger under her chin and lifted her face so that she looked him in the eye. “If you don’t like how it turns out, we’ll make another. Besides, it’s not about being perfect. It’s about having fun.” He swiped a dollop of frosting out of the bowl and wiped it on her nose.
