Page 151 of Miami Ice

Minnie lets out a ferocious meow.

“Minnie Pinny!” Beckham says. “Did you miss Dad?”

He drops his duffel bag on a bench, and affectionately ruffles Winston’s head before scooping up Minnie in his arms. I watch as she nuzzles her head against his chin, and he steps into the kitchen and abruptly stops walking.

“OhGod,” he says, sounding disgusted.

I bite back a laugh as he stops and stares at the new decor. “You wanted to see me when you walked into a room,” I remind him.

“I must have been drunk.”

I giggle at that.

Beckham walks around the room, still cradling Minnie against his chest as he takes in the pastel-colored candies in jars on his island. The candy-and-sweets garland that tops the kitchen cabinets. A tray of Santa mugs with pink hats next to the coffee maker. A glass cloche over a silver pedestal filled with glass macaron ornaments in soft pink.

“Do you see me in this kitchen?” I ask.

“It screams Georgie.”

I grin at him. “Then wait until you see the den and the staircase. Oh, and the front porch. I haven’t had time to do the bedroom and bathroom yet, but those are on my list this week. After you approve my spending because I did buy quite a bit already. And it’s all stuff that makes you want to vomit, so you might want me to dial it down a bit.”

Beckham sets Minnie down on the floor, and she promptly rubs around his legs, her back arched in happiness that her dad is home. He moves toward me, placing his hands on my hips. “You don’t need to ask my permission. I want you to spend as much as you want. Make this space yours. And if that involvesSantas with pink hats and a stupid amount of pink, I’m here for it.”

I frame his face with my hands again. “I will do whatever makes you happy.”

He kisses me again, softly and sweetly. “How long until you have to get ready for your show?” he murmurs against my lips.

I move my hands and lock them around the nape of his neck. “I set up yesterday. I won’t have to get ready until around seven. It’s in Hollywood, at a private school, so it won’t take me long to get there.”

“Then I have time to make love to you,” he says, kissing me again.

Oh yes. Yes, you do,I think happily.

“Where’s the cinnamon roll icing?” he teases.

“Shut up!” I cry.

“Maybe I was being serious,” he says, kissing the side of my neck.

Ooh. I want to melt when he does that.

“You were not.”

Now his lips are exploring the area between my neck and my ear, and goose bumps ripple across my skin as a result of the delicious sensation of his warm mouth kissing me.

And his facial scruff rubbing against my neck, burning it, branding it.

“I need to get you out of this sexy set of pajamas you have on,” he murmurs into my skin.

Suddenly I remember what I’m wearing.

I push back from him. “Oh my God. I’m in the most unsexy thing ever!”

A satisfied smile plays on his mouth. “I am getting completely hard over it.”

My face grows hot. He chuckles wickedly and pulls me closer. “Let me take you upstairs and get you out of this seductive outfit you have on.”

“It’s not fair. I’m dressed like a frump and you’re hot.”

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