Nina and I laugh.
The next couple of hours unfold in a blur filled with drinking, not so much eating, singing along to Christmas music, and laughing so much my stomach hurts. I mingle, compliment Nina on the food choices, listen to Pops tell a story I’ve heard at least twenty times—without mentioning that fact—and tease Drew about his ugly Christmas sweater.
Because of Jordan’s proximity, my senses are on high alert, making it difficult to completely relax. Whenever he looks at me, I feel a telltale prickle of awareness, and when our eyes meet, a spark zings between us. It doesn’t help that every chance he gets, he brushes his hand over my back or presses his arm into mine. Just little touches that make my pulse spike.
And here he comes now.He walks toward me, conjuring up images in my mind of a large, prowling jungle cat looking to satisfy his appetite.
He stops beside me. “Having fun?”
“I am. It’s a great party.” I turn my head enough to see his grin.
“You’ve been laughing pretty hard at Reed’s jokes.”
I roll my eyes. “Those were pity laughs.”
“Yeah, I figured. He’s not that funny.” He winks and walks away, leaving me alone with my rapidly beating heart.
The rest of the night plays out in a similar way, with us stealing moments between conversations with others. But there’s also a brush of our fingers when we both reach for a napkin. A quiet “you look beautiful”whispered in passing when no one’s close enough to hear. Though brief, each interaction leaves me feeling overheated and off-balance.
Before it gets too late, Mr. and Mrs. Thorne get ready to leave, along with the two grandfathers. I walk them to the door. “Thank you for dropping Pops off for me.”
“No worries, dear,” Mrs. Thorne replies. She leans in for a hug. “We’ll make sure he gets inside safely.”
“Thank you.” I rise on my toes to kiss Pops’ cheek. “Behave.”
Gramps leans over. “I like kisses too.”
I laugh and press my lips to his wrinkled cheek.
Once they’re all safely in the Thornes’ vehicle, I close the door and start back toward the kitchen. Jordan meets me on my way.
“Come here.”
“Where?”
He tilts his head toward the hallway, eyes glinting with something that makes my blood rush.
Against my better judgment and every ounce of logic I can summon, I follow him. He stops at the bathroom, pushing me inside before I can speak.
“Jordan!” I whisper-shout at him as he closes the door and locks us in.
He turns around, his gaze trailing from my head to my toes and up again in a long, lust-filled caress. “I’ve been dying to kiss you all night.”
My breath catches. “Jordan…”
He steps closer. “You walk in here looking like that and I’m supposed to carry on like nothing’s changed? You’re lucky I lasted this long.”
I’m still grappling with a reply when his hands grip my waist and his mouth closes over mine in a whisper-soft kiss. He slowly explores my lips, mapping out their shape, as if he’s memorizing every detail. My hands find his shoulders and slide up the back of his neck, pulling him closer as our tongues dance together. He tastes like beer, chocolate, and himself, a sinful combination I’ll never get enough of.
“You’re killing me in those heels,” he murmurs against my lips.
“I wasn’t going to wear them.”
“I’m glad you did. Even if they might be the death of me.” His thumb brushes along my jaw, then down my throat, slow and deliberate. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
“Show me,” I whisper.
His hands cup my face?—
