Page 68 of Clean Sweep
“Like a warm baby.”
His gaze darted to my lips, and then back. I brought my hands around his neck. “Are you going to give me a Christmas kiss or what?” I asked.
He cut off any space for a reply with his lips on mine. Last night, he’d been gentle. Today, a deeper hunger drove him. A hunger I recognized myself. Something deep and once lonely that was now thrust into the light. A fear of losing the romantic magic of waking to someone else and something else and somethingwarm. The ravages of fate had already taken our first loves.
Were we marked or doomed?
No.
That wouldn’t be right.
For several minutes, I kissed the fear out of him until I sensed him calm. He pulled away with a sharp intake of air, then pressed our foreheads together. The tips of my fingers raked through this stubble.
“Merry Christmas,” he rumbled.
I laughed and, somewhat unwillingly, stepped out of the circle of his arms.
“Are you hungry?” I asked.
He rubbed his eyes with the heel of his hand. “Starving. Let me run to the bathroom, then I’ll come help you fix something epic.”
CHRISTMAS PASSEDin a lovely blur of Tanner.
Hours of slamming together our different food traditions led into a sprawling smorgasbord of food. Tanner’s time as a father had lent to more creativity in the kitchen than I’d expected. While I worked on French toast from a brioche that I kept in the freezer, he whipped up a panty-melting quiche, maple-crisped bacon, and a breakfast dish from oats and almonds I swooned over.
Once stuffed, we snuggled into more movies on the couch. Calls from the boys interrupted our time, as each of my son’s wanted to make sure my Christmas wasn’t lonely. Tanner’s brother called, as well as Celeste.
After each round of talking, we returned back to the couch. To snuggles around Christmas movies. To make out sessions that made me hungry for more, though neither of us pressed beyond the casual.
His willingness to move slowly built a trust that felt like manna.
Throughout the day, I’d stuffed all thoughts of Maverick’s family aside. The Mercedy family reunion was taken care of. Next on board would be Landon and Starla. Their upcoming wedding—which quickly approached—would be my next big focus. Not eventhatcould be done on Christmas, however, so I pushed that aside, too.
Just me and Tanner in a lovely swirl of Christmas magic.
TWO DAYS LATER,I sat in the airport wait-and-ride to pick up Nicholas while Max and Blake chattered back-and-forth about football and a video game competition.
My head still spun with memories of Tanner. In between making calls to JJ’s bake shop to request catering for Starla and Landon, texting Starla a menu of appetizers, and sourcing a store with the decoration’s Starla had mentioned, Ialsothought of Tanner.
The smell of Tanner lingered in my nose. Every time I looked at the fireplace, I thought of him adding logs, stoking it up, and taking care of it. He’d fallen naturally into the house. Tidying up, managing the fire, getting more wood.
Swoony, indeed.
He’d called me both nights we were apart. We talked into the late hours, and I fell asleep thinking about him. His lips. The soft grit of his stubble, and the way his white hair highlighted his dark hair.
Tanner Beck.
My biggest surprise so far.
The sound of a car horn jerked me out of the present moment. I blinked, startled, and looked up as Max leaned halfway out of the window and shouted from the front seat.
“Nicholas Miller!”
A shaggy head of curls headed toward our SUV through the airport traffic. Nicholas was a stocky guy. Short compared to his brothers, but meaty in the shoulders and arms. My heart flopped over itself as I hopped out of the car and shouted, “Nicholas!”
That adorable head popped up. A smile worthy of a doting mother appeared there. Within seconds, Nicholas had closed the gap, wrapped his arms around me, and lifted me into the air.
“Hey Mom!”
