“I do try,” he says as a laugh rumbles in his chest.
Rookie abandons all pretense of dignity and launches himself at Killion, who somehow manages to catch himwithout dropping our dinner.I missed you! It’s been at least sixteen weeks since I saw you last! Did you bring me anything? Can I have some chicken? What about the rice? I love rice!
Mr. Jolly Beary observes this reunion from his spot on the sofa, looking slightly lopsided and completely unbothered by the madness. Okay, I’ll admit to the fact it’s hard for me to stop personifying him because Cricket and Rookie do it so seamlessly.
“Are you up for dinner first, then getting our Christmas trees?” Killion asks, setting the food on my kitchen counter, which is roughly the size of a small tree stump.
I grin at him. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
He moves closer, and I catch a hint of his cologne mixed with winter air and something that’s purely him. The space between us shrinks to nothing, and I’m thinking how perfect this moment is when he leans down and plants a wet one on me that makes all of my holiday dreams come true.
This never ends, does it?Cricket meows with the exasperation of a chaperone at a high school dance.And before serving us dinner? The audacity never ends either.
But Killion just got here! And I can smell sweet and sour pork! My priorities are food first, romance second!Rookie whines, his nose still pointed toward the takeout bag.
I pull back slightly, laughing. “I think we’re being judged by our audience.”
“They’ll live,” Killion murmurs, his hands finding my waist as if it were their home.
The kiss that follows is the sort that makes you forget your own name, let alone that you have two very opinionated pets and a bag of rapidly cooling Chinese food waiting for attention. It tastes like winter and promises and the future thatmakes my heart do dangerous things, like forgetting how to beat and then beating way too fast all at the same time.
When we finally break apart, I’m slightly breathless and completely distracted from the fact that Cricket is now sitting directly on the takeout bag.
Food. Now. Romance later. These are the rules,she yowls, her green eyes narrowing with the threat.
“What kept you so busy today?” Killion asks, reaching around Cricket to rescue our dinner. “I dropped by the Cottage House for a late lunch and couldn’t find you anywhere.”
“Oh, you know, the usual. Chasing mysterious lingerie designers through the halls of Willoughby Hall like some twisted game of hide and seek.”
His eyebrows climb. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”
“I wish I were. Vivienne Velour disappeared faster than my willpower around holiday cookies.”
“Vivienne Velour? Isn’t she the designer of those barely-there outfits that cost a fortune?”
“The very one. Diva Divine Temptation pointed the finger right at her.”
“So you also spoke to Diva?” He dips his chin as he takes a moment to inspect me.
I make a face. “Yes, but more importantly, Iboughta lot of lingerie.”
Killion pauses in the middle of unpacking lo mein, and his eyes fall on the growing pile of wrapped packages in the corner of my living room, and something shifts in his expression.
“Is that what all those packages are for?” he asks, and hisvoice carries a note of hope that makes my heart squeeze. “Me?” He winks my way as he says it.
I bat my eyelashes at him with a touch too much exaggerated innocence. “Stick to the nice list and I’ll see. Right now, they’re for Santa.”
“I’ve been very, very nice,” he says, moving closer with a predatory grin.
“Nice? That’s debatable,” I tease, backing up until I hit the kitchen counter. “I seem to remember you arresting me on our first date.”
“That was foreplay.”
“That was a misunderstanding.”
“Same thing.”
He’s close enough now that I can see the flecks of gold in his green eyes, and I’m seriously considering abandoning dinner altogether when he suddenly stops moving. His expression shifts, and I recognize that look—it’s the one he gets when his detective brain kicks into high gear.
