Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
In that drowsy state before fully waking, Finlay lingered in the memories of Jude’s hands on her.
There was nothing tentative about that man. He took what he wanted, and what he wanted was her. His size and strength made her feel—well, if not exactly petite, then at least just right. His hunger for her drowned all the whispers of insecurity.
He kissed like he couldn’t get enough, touched like she drove him wild, and snuggled like he couldn’t bear to be apart from her.
Mmm. So good. He’d clung to her all night, making her feel so…wanted. So desirable.
They were so good together. For the past few days, she’d been truly, deeply happy. She had everything she’d ever dreamed of.
Just last night, with the living room lit by a roaring fire and blinking lights, the three of them had snuggled on the couch, reading books before bed. The way she and Jude had looked at each other over the boy’s head and smiled, the connection…
It was everything she’d ever dreamed of…
Unease slid under her skin. Because it wasn’t real. Cody wasn’t her son, and Jude—
A heady mix of desire, affection, lust, and happiness collided in her chest.
Being with him was better than any fantasy she’d ever had, but it was one thing to believe he wasn’t built for domesticity, and another thing entirely to understand he’d never recovered from the loss of his mom.
She wasn’t sure he could recover from that. And that meant he might never be able to give her the kind of relationship she needed. And now that she knew what it could be like with him, she knew she’d never accept less. Not from him, not from anyone.
He’d warned her about this. He’d said it was dangerous, that playing happy family would end badly.
But you know what? I don’t have a Magic 8 Ball. I can’t see the future.
I sure don’t have to sabotage it, either. She’d just have to see how it played out, and if he pulled a runner or started shutting down…well, she’d know it was time to leave.
She supposed it was time to get up. Since Jude and Cody had gone to the park for the stomp, she’d slept in for the first time in ages. Her body was deliciously sore, and she stretched before stacking some pillows and sitting up.
Unplugging her phone from the charger, she checked for messages, happy to see Jude had texted pictures. The first was one of Cody leaning over a table, examining a series of sketches. She smiled at his look of concentration and loved seeing him surrounded by all those big men.
The next was the professional photo of all the teams gathered in the town square. And the third was of the six guys standing on top of the wooden mold the town provided for each team, jumping on the snow, making it so compact they couldn’t dig a finger into it to make a tunnel.
Seeing Cody laugh so hard filled her with joy. She’d wanted to go with them, wanted to be part of the fun, but Jude needed to bond with the boy on his own. Not with her as the safety blanket.
It was the right thing to do, but she did feel a little left out.
A truck engine rumbled in the distance. It could be anyone, of course, but she threw off the covers, grabbed a fresh pair of panties out of her dresser, and quickly dressed.
Her heart pounded, and she nearly toppled down the stairs in her eagerness to greet him.
She wanted to launch herself into his arms the moment he walked in the door, but she knew he wouldn’t be alone.
As she crossed the living room, she noticed boxes on the dining room table.
Her body recognized them before her mind did because awareness burst under her skin.
Quickly, she detoured to open one, just to be sure.
And yep—Pyrex measuring cup, a whisk, and boxes of melt-and-pour mixtures.
Jude had gone into the attic and brought down her soap-making boxes. That man was terrible for her central nervous system. Smiling at his thoughtfulness, she quickly put the boxes on top of the washing machine in the mudroom. She didn’t want Cody getting into the essential oils.
Truck doors slammed, and by the time she’d safely stored both boxes, boots were hitting the wood foyer.
“Miss O’Neill.” Cody came racing into the kitchen. He was breathless with excitement, and, from the way he ran with his fists and arms rotating from side to side, he’d clearly adopted the McKenna swagger. “We’re gonna make gingerbread cookies.”
She laughed, her heart so full. “Okay, sweet boy.” She pulled him in close for a hug, breathing in the scents of baby shampoo and cold air. “You had fun?”
“Yeah.” He pulled away. “We’re gonna go with my idea and make a gingerbread house with windows.
Inside, I said there should be a family opening presents, and Uncle Wyatt said, ‘What kinda family?’ and I said, ‘Guys like us,’ and he said, ‘But if we want to win, we’ve got to do something different,’ so we’re gonna do some other stuff to make it special. ”
“That sounds fantastic.” Hope burned brightly inside her.
He might always be damaged by the neglect in his formative years, but he had the spirit to overcome and embrace the gifts the McKenna family would give him.
“Okay, let me check and see if we have the ingredients for gingerbread.” She opened the cabinet and checked the top shelf.
Flour, brown sugar, molasses. “Yep, we can do it.”
“Good, ’cause Grampa says we’re gonna try gingerbread cocoa, and I said I never had gingerbread before, and he said, ‘Well, we’re gonna make some cookies’ so I can try it.”
The men stopped talking, and Finlay’s gaze shot to them. Who did he mean? Carlo was in Idaho, and Jude’s dad was the one who had a thing for hot chocolate.
Was he calling Gunnar Grampa? Already?
Oh, man. She hoped Jude would get to adopt him. A squeeze of doubt pinched the back of her neck. Because she’d been in that courtroom. She’d seen the way Judge Adams had looked at him.
He might’ve granted Jude temporary custody, but would he sign adoption papers? But she couldn’t worry about that now. Not when she had a kitchen full of McKennas and a little boy who’d never been this talkative in his life.
“Us guys are hungry.” Cody gestured to the men crowding her kitchen.
“Well, these cookies take a little bit of time to make because you have to chill the dough, but maybe I could make sandwiches?”
Gunnar pulled two cocoa packets out of the back pocket of his black jeans and set them on the counter. “Know what takes ten minutes to make?”
Cody looked up at him with reverence, waiting for the answer.
“Gingerbread pancakes.” Gunnar gave her a chin nod. “Since you’ve got the ingredients, you mind if I take over your kitchen?”
“Not at all.” In fact, she loved it.
“Pancakes, it is.” Gunnar looked at the kitchen table. “Grab a chair.”
Boone brought one over and lifted Cody onto it.
It was interesting to see what roles the men fell into.
Jude pulled a griddle from the drawer under the oven and two ceramic stacking bowls from the cabinet.
Gunnar cracked eggs and whisked the ingredients, while Wyatt silently measured and neatly set the table with plates, napkins, and drinks.
A natural rhythm created over a lifetime of being a family.
She didn’t have a history like that, and as an outsider, her heart gave a little twist of longing. Because she’d love to slot right in and find her own role with them.
But this is good for Cody, and that’s all that matters.
Working at the kitchen table, she used the same supplies to make a batch of cookie dough.
The kitchen was warm from the oven and stove and loud from the conversation and laughter.
She smiled at their inside jokes—she was actually coming to understand them—and was happy to see Cody so relaxed.
Securing the dough in plastic wrap, she brought it to the refrigerator.
They were all having so much fun, she figured she’d slip away, take a shower, and get ready for the day.
Until muscular arms belted around her waist, and a chin settled on her shoulder. “I missed you.” He smelled of cinnamon and cloves.
She wanted to sink into his embrace. To turn into the shelter of his arms and bask in his strength and affection. But she hesitated because she knew herself. She’d go all in. She’d give him every ounce of herself.
But what if he couldn’t give it back? What if he didn’t have a whole heart since he’d cut off the oxygen to a big chunk of it after his mom’s passing?
Oh, come on. Was there really any decision to make?
If she held herself back, she’d guarantee she’d never have a life with him.
No, she had no choice. She had to give him everything she had.
No hiding. No pretending. And no holding back.
She tipped her head back against his shoulder.
“I missed you, too, but I want you to bond with him.”
“I get that, but it’ll happen naturally. I want you with me.” His body heated up, his arms tightened, and at the same moment he lowered his lips to press a kiss on her cheek, she turned to tell him she wanted to be with him, too. But when his mouth landed over hers, it shut down all her thoughts.
This man swept her away with his sweet intimacy.
His big hand held her jaw, and his tongue slipped inside, tangling with hers.
When they were connected like that, all her worries and fears melted into a puddle.
No one could predict the future, but she would give everything she had to get the outcome she wanted.
“Mister?” Cody called.
Their mouths jerked apart, but Jude kept his arms around her. “Yeah?”
Cody eyed them curiously. “Did you get hurt, Miss O’Neill? You made a sound like you was hurt.”
“I did, yeah.” She started to pull away, but Jude gripped her. Confused, she looked down to see a bulge in his jeans. Desire rocketed through her. “But Jude’s making it all better.” Oh boy, they were in serious trouble.
“You need a Band-Aid?” Cody asked. “I know where they are.”
“I’m okay, but thank you. I appreciate that very much.”
“You want some cocoa? We don’t got anymore gingerbread, but I can make you a reg’lar one.”
“I’d love a cup of cocoa. Thank you.”
“I’ll get it.” Cody dashed to the stove. “We gotta make Miss O’Neill a hot chocolate. She got hurt, but Mister’s making it all better.”
“I’ll bet he’s making it better,” Boone said.
“Don’t start,” Gunnar said. “Get the milk.”
Taking one last moment with Jude, she ran her fingers through his hair. “You doing okay down there?”
“You’ve got your hands on me, and I can smell everything we did last night on your skin. So no, Fee. I’m not okay. I’m as hard as an anvil, and I want to drill you so hard you can’t walk for the rest of the day.”
She feigned a swoony sigh. “You make my heart flutter.”
“You gauge how much I want you by how hard I fuck. That’s plenty romantic.”
“You’re right.”
“You want that more than words.”
“I do. I love how much you want me.” She pressed her hips against him.
He hissed in a breath. “I’m kicking everyone out, and we’re instituting nap time around here.”
She laughed. “No, you’re not. Cody loves having them around. Besides, we’re going to get the Christmas tree.”
“Right. Okay, then, let’s get those pancakes in our bellies and get a move on. But the kid’s going to bed early tonight.”
Before they joined the rest of the family, she said, “Did you notice that even though he loves being around your family, and they’re making him pancakes and cocoa, he still wanted to get me a Band-Aid?”
“Yeah, I got that.”
“Very few five-year-olds are that compassionate. You got a good one there.”
“I know that. I do. Both of you are making me a better man.”
She tugged on his hand, forcing him to turn back to her. “You’re already a good man. We’re just your reason to own it.”