Page 64 of Accidentally in Love

“Nolan, I can carry the groceries in the house.”

“Sit your cute butt down and rest while I unload them.”

She smiled at me and did as she was told, slumping down into a kitchen chair and rubbing her stomach. She looked exhausted, and that worried me, but the Doctor said that was normal. I went outside to bring in the rest of the groceries.

“C’mere,” she practically growled at me when I finished unloading everything.

I smirked at her and crossed the room toward her. She lifted her hands to my face and pulled me down into a heated kiss. I smiled into it, but pulled away before it went further.

“I’m sorry about this morning. I was a dick,” I said.

She held my face in her hands. “It’s okay. I know I pushed a nerve. Just know, I’m here, okay?”

I nodded.

She brought me down for another brain-melting kiss, and I felt my cock harden against my thigh. She rubbed a hand over my crotch, and I had to pull away from the kiss as much as it pained me.

“Baby, you better stop if your dad’s coming over,” I warned.

She leaned into my chest and smiled up at me. “Sorry, I’m horny for that big dick.”

“Christ, Avery,” I swore.

She laughed and stood up. “Sorry, it’s the hormones!”

I watched her ass sway as she walked over to the counter and started getting out the pots and pans we needed to make dinner. Damn, did she look good in my kitchen. And it did nothing to quell the raging boner in my pants.

She gave me an exasperated look when she caught me staring at her with my mouth hanging open. “Nolan, I can feel you burning a hole in my ass with your eyes. Don’t distract me while I need to make dinner.”

“Let me help. What are we making?”

“Chicken parm, it’s my dad’s favorite. But fair warning, it’s gonna get messy since we need to bread the chicken.”

I rolled up the sleeves of my plaid button-down. “Tell me what to do, Teach.”

She laughed. “Okay, let’s get to work. Hey, do you have any of that Holiday Hops beer?”

I frowned. “You can’t have any.”

“For my dad,” she explained. “He loves that beer.”

“Yup. I got some in the fridge.”

She made a face. “So gross!”

“It’s a bestseller!” I argued.

“Too hoppy.”

“Says you,” I teased.

“You could always make another Christmas beer.”

“Like what?” I asked.

The thought had crossed my mind, especially since the pumpkin beer had sold well. I hadn’t been ready to make another holiday beer this year, but we could consider it for next year. I always liked to have new seasonal beers in the pipeline alongside our core beers.

“Well, you know I like a wheat beer or a stout,” she said.