Page 82 of Sexted By Santa
“You mentioned it after dinner, when we were talking about our favorite take-out spots.”
Ah, right. After eating our chili from Winter Fest, we’d gotten to talking about some of the best soups in town, which was followed by best sandwich, best steak, best cuisines around the world, and so on. We’d settled on the couch—me with a beer, and Christian with wine that he’d brought from next door—while Tori and Sir Elton John played tug-of-war with a sock. Without proper dog toys, she’d improvised, and I’d merely rolled my eyes and tried not to think about the damage they’d probably do to it. Tori was due for new socks, anyway. And new underwear. New everything, really. Keeping up with a growing kid was tough.
Christian had a sandwich of his own, a turkey with cranberry sauce. I pointed a finger to it while I finished chewing my first big bite. “Is that a seasonal sandwich?”
For a split second, he looked guilty at being busted. “I’m trying to be more open-minded about these things.”
“So, what’s the verdict?”
He pulled a face. “I should have stuck to the tried and true favorite.”
“Turkey, lettuce, tomato, and mayo?”
“Ah, so you listened to me too, even though I like mundane things.”
I swallowed, spicy marinara still tingling on my tongue. “Hey, are you calling me mundane?”
“Never,” Christian said, eyes twinkling. “You’re the most exciting thing to ever happen to me.”
“You were married to Fynn, so I doubt that.”
He blinked. “What does that mean?”
“The guy looks like a model, and he dresses like one too. He knows about art, and he probably goes to fancy events. That’s so far from my life of slow cooker meals and evenings in with an eight-year-old.”
“Jax, he wasn’t exciting, he was…chaos. There’s a difference.” He set his sandwich on the dash to cup my face, leaning in for a long, thorough kiss. “No one else makes mefeelas excited to be alive as you do.”
My heart fluttered. “You’ve got a way with words, Professor.”
His lips quirked. “I’m better one-on-one.”
“Oh yes, you are,” I said as suggestively as possible, waggling my brows.
He laughed, and we resumed eating. I wolfed down my sandwich in a few too-large bites while Christian took his time eating his one dainty nibble at a time. I enjoyed watching him, cataloguing each new habit of his I observed. Christian was meticulous, fastidious. I’d once thought him uptight, but sex had rid me of that assumption. He wasn’t uptight, simply more introverted than I’d initially realized. Once he was comfortable, though…Damn, he was sexy and unreserved.
“I should get back to work,” I said reluctantly. “You didn’t ever say what I owed you for lunch?”
“It’s my treat.”
I frowned. “You bought the chili last night.”
“That was my treat too.”
“Christian,” I said in a warning tone. “You can’t pay for everything. That’s not how this works.”
“I know.” He sounded wounded. “I simply like doing nice things for you.”
Hell. It was difficult to be mad about that, but this was an important boundary to set. I nodded. “I appreciate your generosity, but you want a balanced relationship, right? That means we share equally in things like this.”
Christian looked thoughtful. “That’s fair. I hadn’t thought about it. You could invite me to dinner again? Then we’d be equal.”
“I could, huh?”
He smiled, drawing me into yet another kiss. Was the man trying to charm me into agreeing? It might work. I did like kissing him.
“Seven o’clock?” he suggested.
I started to nod, then frowned. “No. Tori has her winter program tonight at the school. She’s going to be dressing up as a snowflake and singing. We’ll probably eat a quick, easy meal before we go because I’m not exactly sure what time it’ll be done.”
