Chapter 12 Dean
TWELVE
DEAN
I’m probably supposed to be resting my shoulder and planting my almost-invalid ass on the couch.
In some alternate universe, I might even convince Anna to don a sexy elf costume, talk her into making me a never-ending supply of cocoa, and if I were really lucky, pulling her down beside me where we could watch the greatest Christmas movie ever made.
Bruce Willis deserves our love and devotion.
Instead, I stuff boxes into the spacious trunk of her car and hum along to Baby, It’s Cold Outside.
“What the hell is this, Dean Warner?”
I startle straight, miss slamming my head on the underside of the trunk by a whisker, and peek across to find Anna on her porch, her sinful body wrapped in tight blue jeans, knee-high boots, and a puffy jacket that makes her look twice as wide as she actually is.
She holds her little dry erase board between her hands, my last message still bright red against the crisp white background.
Baby, it’s cold outside. Forget we’re strangers and come kiss me.
A single, pointed brow shoots high on her forehead. “I saw this board when I entered my kitchen an hour ago—it was blank—and you’ve been outside basically the whole time since. How is it possible you snuck in and wrote this when I was in the room the whole damn time?”
I place my hands on the top of the trunk and carefully lower the lid, pressing down until the lock engages. “Magic.” I pucker my lips and smile. “New proposal.”
Her eyes narrow to suspicious slits. “What?”
“Well… it’s Christmas, right?” I circle away from the car and wander toward the porch.
My shoulder aches with a bone-deep fucking agony, but simply looking at Anna Maxwell somehow takes most of the pain away.
“We talked, quite successfully, I might add. We shared things neither is allowed to get weird and sympathetic about.” I move up the first step.
Then the second. “You asked me out on a date, even. Which I knew would happen eventually, just so’s you know.
I’m too handsome for my own good, and you’re a beautiful, healthy, wildly intelligent woman.
” I climb the third and fourth step, grinning to combat her grinchy cynicism.
“So, now I propose we kiss a little more.”
“You think so?”
“Mm.” I hook my good arm around her hips and drag her closer.
“January will come soon enough, and when it does, we risk losing the Christmas magic. That means this has a time limit.” I press a gentle, closed-mouth kiss on the edge of her stubborn jaw.
“To ensure we fully experience what’s on offer, I suggest we jump past the oh my gosh, we’re still new and this is awkward phase, and dive headfirst into Anna tastes fucking amazing on my tongue, and I want a little more of that.
” To prove it, I drag my tongue the length of her supple lips.
“I suggest you not worry about awkwardness, or January looming, or the fact I might, at any point, press charges for your part in running me down with your car.”
She chokes out a silly, heart-healing snicker, stealing a chunk of my soul with each bouncing sound.
Didn’t know her last week? Fuck. I’ll never forget her for the rest of my life.
“For my Christmas gift this year, I wanna know what it’s like to kiss you anytime I like.” I nibble on her proud chin. “And if you’re feeling extra generous, you could put the elf suit on and bend over.”
She rolls her eyes. “You wanna kiss me all the time? Anytime?”
“Mmhm.” And I always was one of those go get em kinda guys, so I suckle on her bottom lip and swallow her breathy, deliciously sexy sigh. “It’s what I wrote on my wish list this year.”
“You want to kiss in public?” She pulls back just far enough to show off a pair of dazzling, dancing eyes. “Where other people will see us?”
“Mmhm. My mom always said I was handsome, so let’s not pretend it’s embarrassing to be seen with me.”
She snorts. “Your mom certainly held a high opinion of you… according to you.”
“Uh huh. So, we got a deal?”
“Carter will be at the festival.” She drags her bottom lip between her teeth, not-so-subtly suckling me off the swells. “I’m not sure where you’re from, but here, brothers and sisters don’t kiss with tongues.”
“Who gives a fuck what Detective Droops-A-Lot thinks?” A little on the audacious side, I slide my hand down and give her ass a gentle squeeze. “You don’t want him. Therefore, his opinion doesn’t matter.”
“And what of his opinion on the heist trio case?” She grabs my jaw between her fingers and pushes me back half an inch, searching my eyes. “That’s gotta matter, at least a little.”
“Not a single fuckin’ bit.” I dive in and nip at her smiling lips. “But since I care about you and your working reputation, what if we compromise? I get to kiss you anytime I like, and I might even touch your butt on the odd occasion—”
Her eyes narrow.
“But I won’t be openly gross in front of your other boyfriend, since you feel weird about kissing your brother with tongue.”
Her cheeks fire with a delicious ripe blush.
“However,” I continue. “We are, in fact, double dating with Nick and Mel. Thus, I suggest to the court that holding your hand could totally be something brothers and sisters do in public.”
“Dean—”
“And swallowing your tongue could be something I enjoy when Detective Dumb Shit is otherwise occupied.” I surprise her by snatching the whiteboard, then flipping it over, I pull the marker from my pocket and scribble.
I’ll hold your hands, they’re just like ice.
Dropping a kiss on her stunned lips, I hand the board back and step around her, faster than she was expecting, forcing her to grab onto the porch railing or risk falling on her face.
“Head on over to Mel’s. Get your girly wedding stuff organized while I finish loading up the car.” I swing the front door open and pause on the threshold, turning in place and waiting for her dazed eyes to drift across and meet mine. “I’ll kiss you some more when you get back.”