Page 41 of War

“It’s like a Christmas dream,” she says in raspy wonder. With a hand to her mouth, she surveys each one of us. “You all look so perfectly Christmasy in your matching pj’s. I don’t fit in.”

It takes effort to remain where I am rather than stride over to her. “These pants came with a matching flannel shirt,” I tease. I went for a white long-sleeve T-shirt instead, knowing I’d overheat in the flannel top. “I could get it for you.”

With a light laugh I’ve never heard directed my way, she shakes her head. “I’m okay. Thank you, though.”

“Might give you more coverage than that T-shirt alone,” I call, turning around and closing my eyes to banish the image of her that threatens to haunt me. Damn, did she look good in nothing but my shirt last night. Fresh-faced and bare-legged, with a sassy attitude she reserves only for me.

I like that last part a bit too much.

Makes me want to push her buttons.

“Come sit next to me,” Josie calls from her spot beside Scarlett.

When I finally make it over to the table with Scarlett’s sippy cup, everyone is sitting, leaving one open spot, the place between Ava and Brayden. The instant the cup is in her hands, Scarlett pulls back, ready to throw it, but Josie grabs it before it can clatter to the floor.

“Come on, sissy. No milk on the floor.”

Heading back into the kitchen to grab the plate of bacon and the French toast casserole, I blow out a relieved breath. Looks like I won’t be mopping the floors just yet. Though after breakfast, I’ll have no choice in the matter.

“I can help,” Ava offers, following me. “Holy crap, this looks delicious.”

“Tastes even better,” I promise.

She arches a brow. “Did Maria make it?”

With my head tossed back, I cough out a laugh. “Think I can’t cook?”

A saucy shoulder lift is all I get in response.

Huffing, I snag a fork from the drawer and scoop a bite of casserole, being sure to get a berry in the mix to give her the full effect. Fork held aloft, I stalk up to her. “Open.”

She sucks in a surprised breath. “You’re going to feed me?”

“Open.”

The woman loves to push back, but she gives up pretty easily this time. The moment she opens her mouth, though, I’m rethinking my actions. Shit. I should have known that the sight of her closing her lips around the fork would affect me. What I couldn’t have imagined, though, was the delicious moan that escapes her. At that simple sound, all the blood in my body rushes to the one place it has no business being right now.

“Holy crap,” she mutters. “That’s delicious.”

“Lucky for you, your future husband’s more than just a pretty face.” I toss the fork into the sink, then don oven mitts and pick up the casserole. With a nod, I gesture to the bacon. “Can you grab that?”

“So we’re still doing this?” she murmurs as she steps up beside me and picks up the platter.

“Serving breakfast?” I tease.

What she really wants to know is whether, in the light of day, I’ve changed my mind about her proposal. Up until thirty seconds ago? Fuck yeah, I was questioning it. Concerned we couldn’t really pull this off. Unsure that I could commit to spending the next however many years in this woman’s presence without pulling my hair out.

Then I heard her moan, and it changed everything.

“War,” she grits out.

It’s perplexing, the way her anger makes me giddy. I thrive on pissing her off. It’s probably something I should discuss with my therapist.

Later. Like after we’re married and he can’t talk me out of it. Because yeah, I want to marry Ava. I want to marry the shit out of her, and then I want to find out whether she’ll make that sound when it’snot her mouth doing the work. When my lips are doing the tasting instead.

“Yeah, wifey, we’re still doing it. You should probably call me by my real name now, though. Or husband. Your choice. Now, let’s serve breakfast before the minions revolt and start throwing things.”

Her laughter follows me to the table. It’s new to me. I’ve heard it directed at Lennox, Hannah, and Sara, but now that it’s because of me? I won’t lie; it’s a sound I wouldn’t mind hearing for the rest of my life.

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