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Donovan smiled, mouthed a thank-you to Joan and leaned down to kiss her on the cheek. British’s heart ached. Christian used to do the same thing. Her mother was right. Christian had been a big part of the family for so long. Maybe it was wrong for her to allow Donovan to come. Yet, here she was staring at him and feeling differently than ever before in her life.
“Hi.” Donovan stepped closer.
“Hey,” she replied. This was the first real moment they’d had alone since this morning, which seemed so long ago. “What do you have there?”
“Something called the Blues Be Gone cupcake,” Donovan replied. “They arrived while you were out here.”
British’s eyes widened. She craned her neck to the side and spotted Vonna and Tiffani quickly turn around as if they weren’t spying on them. She wasn’t surprised to see them here. They were close with her family and had probably finished up their Thanksgiving dinner and came out to visit. “That’s my mother-in-law,” she explained to him as she shook her head. “Or is it former?”
“She’s family,” Donovan answered.
“Donovan, I—I—” she stuttered and tried to find the words.
“Let me say this,” he said. “I want to apologize if I made you feel pressured about coming to work for my family’s company, especially not knowing what I do now.”
“Thanks,” British half-heartedly said.
“But you have to know that the car accident wasn’t your fault.”
Now with her shoulders squared, British sighed. “Why? Because that’s what Irish told you?”
“Not just Irish,” Donovan admitted with a nod. He set the tray of cupcakes down on the table between the chairs and stepped closer. “Finn, Scots and Cree came downstairs to tell me about the accident.”
“They had no right.”
“The accident happened,” said Donovan. “It was this time of year. Your dad says deer season runs this time of year and the animals are prevalent in this area. It’s not fair, but these things happen.”
“Christian wouldn’t have been on the road if I didn’t forget my tiara for my motivational talk at a beauty pageant,” British argued, but didn’t put up a fight when Donovan wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close, tucking himself in the plaid blanket, as well.
“According to your mother-in-law, Christian was born with cardiomyopathy and lived longer than ever expected and she says it was because of you.”
British’s head moved to the side, catching Vonna blatantly staring at them, even giving British the thumbs-up of approval before closing the curtains. “She’s crazy.”
“And insistent,” Donovan added. “She said we need to eat these cupcakes right now.” He moved away to grab one of the desserts. “You have a wonderful family, British. Thank you for inviting me.”
I didn’t, she opened her mouth to say, but received a mouthful of frosting.
“Try the cake, British,” Donovan teased. He wiped his finger across her upper lip to get the rich icing.
“I’m going to kill my family for their big ole mouths.”
Not satisfied with the job his finger did, Donovan lowered his mouth to hers and used his tongue to clean her lips, nibbling for a moment on her bottom one. “Don’t kill them just yet. I have been recruited to play Santa in the winter festival on Saturday.”
Saturday, she thought, her pulse starting to throb wickedly. “Well, aren’t we becoming domesticated?”
“Hell, I don’t mind,” Donovan chuckled. “I’ll learn how to cook and clean better for all this good food I’ve been eating. I swear I gained ten pounds today.”
“I guarantee you’ll work it off tomorrow if you’re still up for Black Friday shopping.”
Donovan took a step back to grandstand his opportunity to unzip the gray sweatshirt. He revealed her mother’s latest design of family T-shirts. This one was a Christmas-green, cotton, long-sleeved T-shirt with #TeamBlackFriday across the front with a set of cartoonish elves at the bottom of the hashtagged word.
“Dear Lord,” British gasped and took a bite of her cupcake while her eyes rolled back in ecstasy. She savored the sweet potato flavor with the bourbon maple-bacon frosting.
“Oh wait—” Donovan turned around “—it gets better.” He stripped out of the black hoodie and tossed it to the side, turning his back to her.
Like any regular hot-blooded American woman, British was a bit distracted by the sight of Donovan’s rear in his jeans and bowed legs.
“What do you think?” Donovan asked.
