Page 61 of Single All the Way

I’d lost track of how many orgasms this man had given me in the past twenty-four hours. I was sore, my inner thighs tender, yet I was practically humming with an overflowing contentment as we lit a fire and curled up together under a large, super-soft blanket on the sofa. Pixie and Jett were lying under the tree as if it was their God-given right. Sprocket and Milo had settled close to the fire. Nugget was MIA, most likely napping in Skyler’s bed upstairs, still pushed up against Evelyn’s. The girls’ joined beds had become our dog’s favorite sleeping spot in the Holloway house, both during the day and at night.

The Christmas tree was lit, all the other lights off, curtains drawn to shut out the gloomy day as we settled in with a lineup of holiday movies.The Polar Expresswas first, one of Ben’s favorites.

We were stretched out on the couch, and he was spooning me, warming my back as the fire brought up the temperature of the room. My hair was still wet from the shower, mainly because I’d spent the half hour afterward in Ben’s bed instead of wielding a hair dryer, so the blanket, fire, and warm-blooded male were appreciated.

We were no more than ten minutes into the movie when Ben’s body stiffened behind me, and I don’t mean in the good way. His head went up, and he muted the television.

“What’s wrong?”

Before he could answer, I heard the back door open, a cacophony of kid voices blowing inside with a cold draft.

I jumped off the sofa as if it were a sinking ship, yanking the blanket with me, my heart racing as Ben bolted upright. We shared a panicked look.

He stood. “Curl up with the blanket. I’ll meet them in the kitchen.” Without waiting, he turned the sound back on and headed that way. “Who’s that sneaking in the door?” he called out.

I laughed quietly to myself in a half-hysterical way as I planted my ass in the corner of the sofa and tucked the blanket around me. With my heart still racing, I fought to look nonchalant as it hit me how close that had been. How lucky we were the front door was rarely used and they’d come in the mudroom. For that matter, it was a damn good thing the living room wasn’t visible from the mudroom.

All of that paled in comparison to how fortunate it was we’d pulled clothes on after our latest round. If I hadn’t been so cold…

“Mommy!” Skyler ran into the living room, so overjoyed to see me that I felt momentarily guilty for celebrating our day-long break.

“Hey, sweetie,” I said, shoving the blanket aside and leaning forward to catch her in a hug. “What are you doing home already? How did you get here?”

“Gramma Berty drived us,” she said, holding on to me a few extra seconds. I breathed in her little-girl smell, noting Berty had managed to clean the kids in addition to everything else.

I hoisted my daughter into my arms as I stood, then walked through the dining room toward the others in the kitchen.

“Did you hire a sleigh to get you here?” I asked Berty.

“The plow’s been through most places,” she said with a wave of her hand.

I suspected the drive wasn’t quite as easy as she made it seem. I also couldn’t help but wonder if she’d reached her admittedly generous limit with four children under ten. “Did they do okay?” I asked.

“They did real good. Little troopers.”

Ruby had discovered the movie still playing in the living room and called out, “The Polar Expressis on!” The other three kids rushed in to join her.

“Sky was starting to get a little antsy without her mama,” Berty said quietly. “I didn’t want to push her too long. She did so well last night.”

“I’m relieved to hear that,” I said.

At the mention of last night, I met Ben’s gaze for the quickest instant before I glanced back at his grandmother.

“What did you bring there?” Ben asked, pointing at the grocery bags in her hands.

“The perfect activity for a snow day,” she said. “Gingerbread houses.”

He took the bags from her.

“You baked with the kids?” I asked.

Berty squawked a laugh. “Not gingerbread. I know my limits. That stuff never works out right, but the Country Market sells kits. I stocked up a few days ago.”

“You’re too good to us,” Ben said, setting the bags on the counter and unpacking them.

“Benny, you know gingerbread decorating’s my favorite,” Berty said. “I got a house for each of us and enough candy that we can rot our teeth and still have plenty to deck our halls.”

A few minutes later, all seven of us sat around the dining table with frosting tubes, bowls of every type of colorful candy ever invented, and prebaked, precut gingerbread walls.

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