“Good morning.” Clara strolled in like a breath of fresh air, halting what was sure to become an argument. “How is everyone?” Her snug jeans and Christmas-red, long-sleeved T-shirt emphasized her curves deliciously, fueling a hunger deep inside Zane. The bright green Christmas tree on her shirt sparkled with sequins.
“I’m desperate for coffee,” Wren griped.
“I can make a pot of half-caf if you’d like. Or decaf.”
“Oh—would you? Half-caf would be incredible. You’re a life saver. Then, I can have two cups.” Wren clapped her hands in childish glee.
“Right away. Back in a flash.” Clara smiled widely and glided over to check the buffet.
She was gracious, graceful, and way too lovely for his peace of mind. Zane tried not to stare at her as she checked the buffet and straightened a few things out and hurried into the kitchen.
“She’s pretty, isn’t she?” Wren asked slyly.
“What?” He snatched up his coffee and sucked back a mouthful.
“She’s lovely with those coffee black eyes and that shimmering hair. And those curves? Man, I miss my curves. I can see why you’re attracted to her.”
“What? I’m not attracted to her. I wasn’t staring.” He slammed his mouth shut before he said anything else that might incriminate him.
“I didn’t say you were staring.” Wren laughed. “But you were, and you admitted it. Clara’s pretty, isn’t she Noah?”
“Oh, hell no. I am not answering that. You couldn’t pay me enough to have an opinion on another woman. You, my dear beautiful Wren, are the only woman I see. I’m blind to everyone else. You’re my world.”
“You are such a liar, and you suck at it.”
Her pretty blush told Zane Noah had given the perfect response. No sense annoying your wife. One of his friend’s wives was very sensitive about her look and size when she was near term. His friend said walking on eggshells during that time was well worth it to have his incredible wife deliver their twin sons. At the time, Zane had filed her sensitivity away as something worth noting. While marriage and children weren’t in his immediate future, the information would prove valuable someday.
Clara returned with a thermal carafe for Wren. “Here you go. One pot of half-caf, just for you. I’ll remember to make you a pot tomorrow. I’ll add some decaf pods to the coffee table in case you wish to make more later. I’ve also ordered more decaf and herbal teas. They’ll be here in the morning.”
“Thank you so much. You didn’t need to do that.” Gratitude rang in Wren’s voice.
“Listen, I’m putting up the Christmas tree in the common area today. You’re all welcome to come watch, or pitch in and help. We’ll make it a party. The tree I ordered will be here at ten. I’ll start shortly after. Please join me.”
“I don’t know how much help I’ll be, but I’ll be there,” Wren exclaimed.
“Me too,” Zane added. “I haven’t helped put up a tree in at least a dozen years.” He hadn’t wanted to. So why was he so eager to help now?
