Unexpected Christmas with the SEAL

CHAPTER 3

T he tears that she tried to hide gutted him.

The woman was so fucking stubborn. So fucking strong.

She could entirely handle that ranch on her own. Cal knew it. Hell, he was pretty sure Asher and Nate knew it, too. But she didn’t have to do it all on her own. That was the difference.

If there was anything being in the Navy and working with his SEAL team had taught him, it was that you shouldn’t be afraid to ask for help. Doing it on your own when you don’t have to is prideful and can get people killed. If you have people in your corner, if you have a team, ask for help.

But something told him Hannah didn’t really have much of a team .

He knew she had brothers, but Cal didn’t know much about them. He also knew that her parents were divorced, and lived on opposite sides of the country. Again, that was the gist of his knowledge. He didn’t ask for more from Nate when he was talking about his niece, and Nate didn’t volunteer more.

Perhaps Cal should have asked, though.

Or asked Triss for more information.

He could see that his presence there was only upsetting her more, so he jumped in his truck and left. But that didn’t mean he was going to stay away for very long.

Hannah was hurting, and if there was anything Cal was, it was a fixer.

Cars, fences, helicopters, broken mugs and even people—he fixed them.

Or at least he tried to.

So, he drove home, gathered what he needed out of his fridge and pantry. He didn’t bother with a cooler since it was cold as balls outside and nothing would thaw in the twenty minutes it rode in the bed of his truck. Then, as it grew dark outside, he headed back to the Harris Brothers Ranch.

The motion-sensor light came on when he pulled back into the driveway and a bark from the barn announced his presence.

But no dog or person came out.

He left the stuff in the truck and glanced toward the farmhouse. Smoke rose from the chimney and there were a few lights on inside, but he knew she wasn’t in there. If Bruno was in the barn, so was Hannah.

A quick check at the chicken coop showed it closed up for the night. The goat barn was locked and all the horses had been brought in from the field.

She really could do it all.

He opened the side door for the barn and stepped inside, the scent of fresh hay wafting up his nostrils. Bruno raced over for a greeting. Cal gave him the necessary amount of attention before Bruno trotted off to go on another perimeter patrol.

A few horses made noises of salutation, but when one particular horse’s head didn’t swing out over the stall door, he knew exactly where to find Hannah.

“Go away, Cal,” Hannah called from Macklin’s stall.

He didn’t listen and proceeded down the barn until he reached Macklin’s stall. He peered over the half door, where he found Hannah sitting on the ground and Macklin sort of sitting in her lap as she petted him and he nuzzled her head with the side of his. “Are you stuck?” he asked with a snort.

She glared at him around Macklin’s big brown body. “Sort of. But I’m fine.”

Macklin glanced between them. Then he seemed torn about staying with Hannah and soaking up more of her love, or going to Cal and getting new attention.

Macklin was honestly the most affectionate and biggest attention-whore horse Cal had ever met. If you sat in his stall or on the ground outside near him, the big teddy bear would try to sit like a dog in your lap. It didn’t matter than he was hundreds of pounds. He thought he was a lapdog.

Hannah kissed Macklin’s neck, which caused the horse to turn around, face her and give the top of her head a lick. She scrunched her face in a cute way that said she appreciated the reciprocated kiss of the horse, but wasn’t keen on the slobber. “Mack and I are just fine. You can go.”

He shrugged, then turned to go. “Don’t sit on the ground too long. You’ll get hemorrhoids.”

“That’s an old wives’ tale,” she replied, irritation in her tone.

He let the barn door close behind him, then went to his truck, grabbed everything he’d packed, and headed up to the farmhouse.

Nobody should be alone at Christmas. Not him. Not Hannah. Not anybody.

So even though she was stubborn and didn’t seem to know any better, Cal was older, wiser, more patient, and a lot less stubborn. Or maybe he was more stubborn because he was persistent.

Either way, he wasn’t going to let her prickly disposition scare him away. Not when he saw in her eyes how desperately she didn’t want to be alone for Christmas. However, she was also determined not to let anyone see that desperation.

Her strength was admirable. Possibly a little misguided, but still admirable.

She didn’t always have to be strong, though. Sometimes showing your vulnerable side was showing your strength. That you’re strong enough to be vulnerable. Strong enough to show the world—or at least a few trustworthy people in it—your flaws.

He plunked everything he brought onto the kitchen table, found an apron with chickens all over it on a sky-blue background, then got to work.

It was over an hour before the sound of the front door opening broke through the kitchen noises.

Then came the voice and stomping of a prickly woman. “What the fuck?”

Bruno, as if seeing Cal for the first time today, raced over and demanded more attention. Only Cal’s hands were soapy from doing dishes, so he had to dry them on his apron before he could bend down and give the dog some love. All while ignoring the angry glare of the woman with her hands on her shapely hips.

Hannah cleared her throat, so he lifted his gaze up to her fire. “I’ll ask again. What. The. Fuck?”

“You told me to go. You didn’t tell me to go home . I’m making dinner.”

Her eyes became thin slits as she took in his pizza making station. It’d been a long-standing Christmas Eve tradition in his family when he was a kid. Homemade pizza for dinner along with a Christmas movie marathon while he and his dad—who’d been an architect—built the most epic gingerbread house.

“It’s make your own pizza night,” he said cheerfully. “I have all kinds of toppings. Cheese is grated, sausage and bacon are cooked. Onions are caramelized, and I found some already cooked chicken breast in the fridge. All you have to do is slather on the sauce, build your beast and slide ‘er into the oven.”

Her gaze remained narrow, but she slowly dropped her palms from her hips, wandered into the kitchen and washed her hands at the sink. Still not having said a word, and with her eyes holding all kinds of skepticism, she went to the pizza making station and began to build her pie.

Cal grinned as he watched her ladle on the sauce, then put mushrooms, sausage, caramelized onions and bacon on her pizza before sprinkling it with cheese—then, because this was obviously not her first rodeo—she put the pepperoni on top of the cheese so that it would perfectly crisp up in the oven.

He was pretty sure he was in love.

Hannah made her pizza identical to his— and put her pepperoni on top of her cheese—made his belly do several somersaults, and his body grew hot.

Her expression relaxed sometime between putting on the onions and bacon, then she stepped back and watched as he expertly slid the pizza paddle that he handmade and brought from home, under the pizza, opened the oven and shimmied it onto the pizza stone he also brought from home.

He set the timer on the oven, then went to build his own pizza. The only difference between her pizza and his was that he added banana peppers and mixed his cheese with half mozzarella and half white cheddar. Mozzarella had the stretch, but cheddar was where the flavor was.

“I’m going to go shower,” she said, her voice soft as she walked quietly behind him and down the hall. “Could you feed Bruno, please?”

He smiled at her back just before she disappeared into the guest room, then glanced down at Bruno. “I think she’s finally warming up to me, buddy.”

Bruno cocked his head to the side.

Cal grabbed a piece of pepperoni from the counter and tossed it into the air. Bruno leaped up and caught it in his mouth. “Let’s see if we can make her smile again with our movie choices, hmm?”

Bruno looked up at the counter where the pepperoni came from.

Cal smiled, grabbed another piece, and tossed it to the dog before he went about making Bruno’s actual dinner.

He smelled her before he saw her. The exotic fruity scent of either her body wash or shampoo competed heavily with the enticing aroma of the pizza. Was that mango? Guava maybe? Either way, he liked it.

He was just pulling his pizza out of the oven when Hannah came around the corner. She was dressed down in a pair of flannel Christmas pajama pants. They had little snowmen on them, on a red background. She wore a black tank top, no bra, and the same gray cable-knit cardigan she had on when he met her yesterday. Her hair was wet and in a long French braid down her back.

“Did you scrub the Macklin slobber out of your hair?” he asked, using his special pizza scissors to cut her pizza into eighths now that it had cooled enough.

She nodded and her gaze slid to the bottle of red wine he had opened on the counter. He hadn’t poured any for himself yet. He wanted to check to see if she drank, if she drank red wine and if she was comfortable if he had a glass, too.

He’d dated a woman once who was a recovering alcoholic, and she said that although she couldn’t control what other people did, she generally just avoided being in the same space as alcohol and people consuming it because it made things easier for her. So now, Cal always made a point of checking with people before he just served up the shiraz. Or in this case, the pinot noir.

“Did you bring the wine?” she asked, wandering over to the bottle, opening the cupboard above and pulling down two stemless glasses.

“I did. You’re welcome to a glass.”

“Are you having one, too?”

“Is that okay?”

She shrugged one shoulder as she poured, but that shrug caused her cardigan to slip down her arm, exposing one slender shoulder and the tattoo on it. It was small, but it was beautiful. A realistic robin perched on a branch, all done in fine lines and grayscale. It couldn’t have been more than four inches tall and three inches wide, but whomever had done the work was very talented.

She finished pouring, set the wine bottle down, shrugged her cardigan back onto her shoulder and picked up both glasses, wandering over to hand him one.

“What’s going on, Cal?” she asked softly. That’s when he noticed her eyes and how puffy and red they were. He just chalked up her long shower to her washing her hair, but she’d probably been crying in there, too.

His chest tightened.

“Nobody should be alone for Christmas,” he said, accepting the wine glass. “Not you. Not me. Not anybody.”

“Maybe I want to be alone.”

He shook his head. “No, you don’t. You’re just trying to put on a brave face. But you don’t have to pretend with me.”

“I don’t even know you.”

He took a sip. “Then let’s change that. What do you want to know?”

Her eyes bore into him for a moment, then she took a deep inhale and slowly released it, which let her shoulders climb down from her ears. “What’s Cal short for?”

“Callahan. It’s my last name, actually. My first name is Peter. Or Pete. But I’ve been Callahan or Cal since the Navy.”

She nodded slowly and took a sip of her wine. The slow, sexy roll of her throat as she swallowed made his balls tighten up against his taint. “Have you ever been married?”

He shook his head. “Only to my job.”

“And your helicopter?”

He grinned. “And my helicopter.”

“So, no kids?”

He shook his head again. “No kids.”

“Pets?”

“Want a dog, but haven’t been able to find one that measures up to Bruno.” He glanced at the snoring dog in front of the wood stove. Bruno had spun around onto his back like a buffoon, and all four of his legs were in the air while his head was no longer in his bed, but on the floor, and his tongue was hanging partially out of his mouth. The animal looked dead, or like he’d suffered significant brain damage.

Hannah snorted. “Oh yeah, he’s one of a kind.”

“I do want a dog, though.”

“I would love one, too, but my apartment isn’t pet friendly and I’m gone too much between work and commuting. It wouldn’t be fair.”

Score! That was the first bit of information she’d volunteered about herself.

He was breaking down her walls. Finally.

“How long have you been in Colorado?” she asked.

“Not very long. Moved here just after Asher and Triss got married. I wasn’t able to make it to the wedding. I came for a visit afterward, fell in love with the place, and decided to settle down for a bit. There’s a cattle farmer not too far from here that lets me rent a cabin on the edge of his land. There’s enough room to park Bella, and I monitor that part of his property for him.”

“What does, for a bit , mean?”

He shrugged. “I’m a bit of a vagabond. I never stay in one place very long.”

“Why’s that?”

He scratched at his chin. His five o’clock shadow usually came on around two o’clock, so now that it was closing in on six, he had rough stubble that made a raspy noise against his fingertips. “Not too sure. Maybe I just haven’t found the right place yet.” Or the right person.

“Could this place be it?”

“If any place is gonna be, it’d be here. I love it. And there’s loads of work for me. Always a rancher that needs help, or somebody wanting a heli-tour of the area. Even news channels have hired me. I help the cattle rancher, too. Help him find his cows. He’s got thousands of acres and can’t always find them by riding.”

Her eyes roamed his body, sliding down his torso, which was still covered in the chicken apron. “You pull off an apron better than most.”

His grin nearly broke his face. “Yeah?”

She shrugged and disappeared with her wine into the living room.

He finished tidying up, and by that time, his pizza was cool enough to slice, as well. Then he put two slices of their pizzas on plates and brought them and his wine into the living room. “Shall we watch a Christmas movie?”

She was curled up on the couch, with Bruno now snoring on her feet. “Like Die Hard ?”

He put his palm to his chest. “Marry me right now if you consider Die Hard a Christmas movie.”

She rolled her eyes and smiled, accepting her plate of pizza. “I mean, is it the best Christmas movie? No. But it is a Christmas movie. There’s no argument there. Even though Bruce Willis says it’s not, I disagree and will until the day I die.”

Chuckling, he nodded. “I can agree with that. So, what is the best Christmas movie?” He sat down beside her, careful to leave a gap between them so she didn’t think he was playing at anything, then brought up his phone to cast whatever she decided on to the television.

“ A Christmas Story , obviously. Nothing like that leg lamp, uncooked turkey and a Red Rider BB gun.” She paused with the slice almost to her mouth. “Oh, and Ovaltine!”

“Excellent choice, Ms. Harris. A Christmas Story it is.”

They ate their pizza, drank their wine and watched the movie in companionable silence for a little while, but eventually, whatever curiosity had been niggling away at Hannah got the better of her. She got up to get more pizza, and fill her wine, bringing back with her more questions.

“Why are you being nice to me?” She sat back down on the couch. Bruno was on the kitchen tile, sprawled out like a sleeping frog.

“What kind of a question is that?”

“An honest one.” She blinked. “You don’t know me. And all of this just feels like you’re doing my uncles a favor.”

“Maybe it started out that way, but can’t it be something else now? We’re two people who would otherwise be alone for Christmas. What’s wrong with us spending it together?”

“Because we’re strangers.”

“We don’t have to be. Can’t we be friends?”

Her eyes did that narrow, skeptical thing again. “Is that all you want to be?”

Cal rolled his eyes and finished his wine glass. “I’d be lying if I said you weren’t beautiful and I wasn’t attracted to you. But we don’t have to be anything more. I’m an adult and I can be friends with another adult of the opposite sex. Nothing needs to happen between us.”

“Why aren’t you married?”

This woman switched gears faster than a Formula One driver.

“Because I was married to my work. I had a girlfriend in high school, another one while I was in flight school, then it’s just been—”

“Casual hookups since then?” she asked, finishing his sentence.

He shrugged. “Something like that. Not really fair to a person to be in a relationship with a man who is never around and always in danger.”

“No, I suppose not.”

“What about you? Why don’t you have a boyfriend?”

If she was going to ask the personal questions, that meant he could, too, right?

She huffed a derisive laugh and glanced away from him while taking a sip of her wine. “I’ve been told—by more than one guy I dated—that I am too much .”

What the fuck did that mean? And who the fuck were these small-dicked pricks?

“What did they mean by that?” Cal asked, unable to completely hide the irritation in his tone.

Her smile was thin and brittle as she shook her head. “I don’t know. That I’m a big personality? I know I’m not everyone’s cup of tea. And I’m fine with that. I don’t have much of a filter. I call a spade a spade and I stand up for myself. Apparently, men don’t like that. I’m too much.”

“Or they’re not enough,” he replied, his belly hot, and free hand bunching into a fist on his lap.

Her gaze dropped to his fist, then quickly lifted to his face. The sadness that had been there before was gone. What burned back at him was something brighter and more beautiful than an eclipse. His words were sinking in and she was finally seeing those assholes who said that to her, for what they really were. It wasn’t that she was too much . It was that they weren’t enough .

They weren’t man enough, strong enough, or confident enough to be with such a powerful, independent, and opinionated woman.

Well, their fucking loss.

“You’re really not here because my uncles asked you to be?” she asked, her voice breathy and full of emotion. Her eyes glittered like two pieces of amber in the sunshine.

“I came by to check on you yesterday because they asked me to. But I knew you’d have everything under control. Asher asked me to pop by, but I knew I didn’t have to. I came because I wanted to. Because I like you.”

She swallowed and her bottom lip wobbled. “I really didn’t want to be alone for Christmas.”

He smiled. “Me either.”

“I’m sorry I was such a bitch before. Pushing you away. I just hate people thinking I can’t do something. It’s confusing, you know. Being called too much . But then people not thinking you’re enough at the exact same time. Like I’m not capable enough here. Or … or that I wouldn’t have a good time tagging along with my brothers and their families to Hawaii. I mean, yeah, I probably wouldn’t enjoy myself with either sets of my parents, but I wasn’t even considered. I’m too much , but also not enough .”

All he wanted to do right now was pull her against his chest, and hug her hard enough for her to realize that she was absolutely enough. She wasn’t too much. She was just right. And fuck everyone else.

Fuck her parents. Fuck her brothers. And fuck Asher and Nate for making her feel like they didn’t believe in her.

“Just because you can do something yourself doesn’t mean you have to,” he said gently. “If you have a team, call on them. Don’t be afraid to ask a friend, or a teammate to help you shoulder the load. To help you do it easier, better, faster. Or just because, two hands make the job less lonely.”

“I’ve never really been part of a team . I always did solo stuff like piano and tennis. I’m the third child, the only girl and my brothers are seven and five years older than me. We were never a team . It was always them versus me.”

Well, that was fucked up. Big brothers were supposed to look out for their little sisters, not team up against them.

He held out his hand for her to shake. “Well, meet your first teammate. Name’s Pete Callahan. But my friends call me Cal. And we are friends now, right?”

She took his hand in her small, delicate one. “Right.”

Then, before he could let go, she pulled his hand, which propelled his body forward and crushed her mouth to his.

She was warm and soft and smelled delicious pressed up against him. And his cock was certainly on board, but Cal needed to get a couple of things straight before he went too far with his friends’ niece. He gently pushed her away by her shoulders until she peeled her lips from his, blinking up at him in confusion.

“Are you drunk?” he asked.

She looked at him like he was crazy. “I’ve had one glass and a sip of wine. No, I’m not drunk.”

Okay, that was a good answer.

“Are you drunk?” she asked. “Are these just beer or, in this case, wine goggles?”

“Definitely not drunk. And definitely not wine goggles. I just don’t want to take advantage of you. I want this to happen. I want you, but I don’t want to take advantage when you’re sad and—”

“Cal, shut up. I’m a big girl. And right now, I want to kiss you again and then eventually, hopefully, get naked. You’re not taking advantage. I’m not drunk and I hope to God I remember this in the morning. So, unless you’re having second thoughts, I suggest you kiss me.”

The sides of his mouth nearly brushed his ears he smiled so big. But that smile didn’t last for long. His lips got busy doing other things as he claimed Hannah’s mouth, positioning himself on top of her on the couch. He’d paused the movie when she got up to get more pizza and hadn’t bothered to hit play again.

No matter.

They could watch it later.

And it wasn’t like they didn’t know how it ended.

Right now, they had much better things to be focusing their attention on.

Her body fit perfectly against his. All luscious curves, softness, and that exotic fruity scent. He broke their kiss. “What is that smell? What fruit is that? It’s been driving me nuts.”

She grinned up at him, her eyelids at half-mast and her pupils dilated. “Coconut and guava body wash.” Her smile faltered. “Do you not like it?”

“I love it. I want to fucking eat you. It smells so good.”

Her smile was back. Then it turned coy and downright salacious. “I certainly wouldn’t stop you.”

His eyes flared, and she bit her lip as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her pajama pants, making sure he grabbed her underwear, too, and slid them down her legs, exposing her pussy with the dark landing strip.

“Maybe we should take this to the bed?” she suggested. “I mean, more room and Bruno is giving you some serious stink-eye right now. I’m also not sure how keen I am to have sex on my uncles’ couch.”

All good points.

He wasted no time at all scooping her up while her pajama pants dangled from one foot, and he carried her down the hallway to one of the guest rooms, placing her gently on the bed. He tore off his long-sleeve gray waffle-knit shirt and her gaze sizzled along his skin.

“Pants, too,” she said, lifting her eyebrows.

He nodded and unfastened his belt and jeans, letting them slide to the floor at the foot of her bed. He stayed in his black boxer briefs with the pitched tent, and climbed up the bed, shouldering apart her knees, and sinking down to his belly.

Pressing his nose to her mound, he pulled in a deep inhale.

That fruity scent of guava and coconut filled his nostrils, along with her own feminine musk. His cock throbbed against his lower belly.

Slowly, using two fingers, he explored her pussy, widening her lips to the see the glistening pink center. He blew cool air on her clit and smiled when she sucked in a sharp breath and her hips leaped off the mattress.

He hadn’t put his mouth on her yet, even though he was dying to. He was just enjoying the view. Enjoying watching her unravel in front of him, and finally let down her guard, showing him who the real Hannah was. She had fire in her belly and he’d always been someone who ran toward the flames rather than away from them. Maybe he’d been a moth in a past life? Or perhaps he just liked the thrill. Either way, Hannah was hot inside and out, and Cal wasn’t the least afraid of getting a little burned.

“Cal,” she breathed, her hips churning as he blew more cool air across her clit and kissed along her inner thighs, swirling his tongue over her labia. “Please.”

“Yes?”

“Suck my clit,” she exclaimed. “You’re killing me here.”

Ah, there she was!

He grinned and tipped his gaze up her body, where he snagged her desperate eyes, staring down at him.

She whimpered and pouted. “Please?” But it was all for show because a second later, she reached down, grabbed his head and lifted her hips, forcing his face to make contact with her pussy.

He smiled as he encircled her clit with his lips and sucked.

“That’s better,” she said, relaxing into the bed.

He chuckled and started to do swirls with his tongue.

“No, keep sucking.”

Like a good soldier, he followed orders.

She kept her hands on his head, her fingers using his hair to control him, to keep him in place. And he fucking liked it. He particularly liked it when he flicked her clit in a certain spot and she yanked hard on his scalp at the same time she cursed, “Jesus fuck,” up to the rafters.

He kept her riding that sweet edge for a long time. Every time he could feel her getting ready to tip over the side, he’d mix it up and pull her back so she could teeter a little longer.

It wasn’t all about the orgasm. It was about the journey, the fun and the pleasure of getting there. And there were very few things Cal enjoyed more in life than going down on a woman who liked to take her time getting to the finish line.

“Cal,” she mewled, still hanging onto his hair. “I’m so close.”

“Don’t have a condom,” he murmured, flicking her clit with his tongue.

“Neither do I. But I don’t care. I have an implant and I’m clean. But I want to come with you inside me.”

“Next time,” he said, pushing two fingers into her pussy and pumping. “This time, though, you’re going to come all over my face.” Then he curled his fingers, hit that spot on her clit with his tongue, and she exploded.

“Holy … holy … holy fuck!” Hannah exclaimed, her body hinging upward as she used his hair to help pull her forward.

He grunted from the pain, but in reality, he liked it. Pain reminded you that you were alive. And sometimes, after all the shit he’d seen, after all the shit he’d had to do, he was so numb that he needed a quick reminder.

“Oh God. Oh God, yes.”

Her pussy gushed across his tongue and throbbed against his lips. Her clit swelled, and she squeezed her pussy around him as she rode out her orgasm, her legs quivering beside his head, muscles going stiff.

Eventually, she collapsed back onto the bed. It took her several heartbeats to release his hair, but by the time she did, his scalp burned and his cock was hard as a fucking rock.

He gave her one last lick, one final suck, and gently removed his fingers, sucking them clean as she watched him with hooded eyes.

“Inside me,” she said, reaching for him. “Please.”

“Ooh, baby, I like it when you beg.” He yanked down his boxers to reveal his erection and tossed them to the floor, before climbing up the bed the rest of the way to cover her. “I’m clean, too,” he said, as he slid inside her with ease and she welcomed him by spreading her legs wider and wrapping her arms around his neck. “Just figured I should probably mention that.”

“Appreciate it.” She pressed a kiss to his clavicle over his tattoo that ran across part of his left collarbone, upper shoulder and back. “This octopus is beautiful and so lifelike.”

“I love to scuba dive. Got this after a wreck dive on the west coast of British Columbia. A Giant Pacific Octopus—which is the biggest species of octopus in the world—was so curious and friendly. She followed us for the entire dive. By the end, she was hanging onto my tank, petting me and asking for scratches on the top of her head. I’ve experienced nothing like it before or since. So I got this tattoo to memorialize such a unique event. It’s an actual picture of her we took, too.”

Hannah smiled beneath him. “I love that entire story and absolutely everything about it.” She kissed his tattoo again.

“What about yours?” He rubbed his thumb across her robin tattoo. “What’s the story behind this little guy?”

Her eyes turned glassy, but not because of sadness, but remembering something that brought her joy. “Growing up, I had a tree outside my bedroom window. A robin built a nest there for several years. She always had two sets of hatchlings. I started leaving pieces of colored yarn out for her on my windowsill so she could make a colorful nest, and she did. Then I’d dig up worms and leave them in a bucket for her to give to her babies. Which she did. She’d sometimes even peck at my window. Not to ask for food, but to just say hi or show me her chicks. Then one spring she didn’t return. My father cut down the tree, and that was that. I just remember that in a house full of yelling and arguing, this robin brought me a lot of joy. I would spend hours sitting by my window watching her build her nest and tend to her babies. They’re my favorite bird.”

“I love that entire story and almost absolutely everything about it,” he said, paraphrasing what she said. “Except for the house full of yelling and your dad cutting down the tree.”

Her smile was sad for a moment, but then she shrugged. “At least he waited until she didn’t return.” Her gaze turned avid, and she raked her fingernails down the sides of his back. “You do realize you’re inside of me right now?”

“Not something I’m inclined to forget.”

“So maybe we should talk less?”

“For now. But after, let’s talk more.” Then he took her mouth and started to move.