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She was already darting around me to go up the stairs, the baby hanging backward a bit to keep an eye on me and the tree. Her expression wasn’t quite horrified, but it was close.
“She thinks the tree is big.” I pointed toward the kid as I hit the top step.
Gina backed into the door to hold it open and laughed down at the baby. “Honey, that only looks huge to you because you haven’t seen many yet.”
“Let’s hope you aren’t that picky about size in all areas. I’ve got it now,” I added when Gina flashed me a wide-eyed glance of her own.
We traded sexual innuendoes now and then. Sometimes they were downright dirty, but that was rare.
Since I’d found the baby on my doorstep, however, they’d flowed between us like wine. Mostly from my direction. I couldn’t even entirely say why, except that Gina holding my kid did something to me. Made me see her in a different way. Almost like I couldn’t deny she was a sexy, competent woman when she had her arms full of baby.
My baby.
And those boots of hers were not helping matters. Neither were those skintight jeans, clinging to her curves. She didn’t think she had any. She’d made so many cracks about her pancake ass, but I didn’t agree. Every part of her was made just right.
Even if I had no business noticing.
“Uh, I thought it could go right there.” She pointed as I finally got the tree through the door, minus a few of the less hardy branches.
“I’m not going to make a joke about being good at fitting into tight spaces.” I tried not to huff and puff as I carted the tree across the room. It wasn’t that heavy but branches kept springing out in every direction, including a half inch from my left eye. “I don’t want to be predictable.”
“Oh, you’re definitely not that lately,” she muttered from behind me.
I put down
the tree and screwed it into the wheeled base I’d had forever before stepping back to dust off my hands. The scent of fresh pine stung my nostrils, and I cocked my head, surveying my choice. “It needs to be adjusted, but I think it works.”
I glanced over my shoulder just as Gina bent to lower the baby into her swing, offering me a glimpse of a smooth slice of golden skin just above her waistband. She didn’t have ink there. Only freckles. A roadmap of them I wanted to follow underneath the denim.
Damn, what was wrong with me lately? A few inappropriate looks or the occasional sex dream were one thing. But lusting after my bestie while she sang “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star” bordered on kinky.
“That’s a girl. You’re such a good sleeper already. Long as you’ve had your bottle and a diaper change, something your daddy wouldn’t know about since you always conveniently poop when he’s MIA.” She straightened and slid me her trademark grin, her dark eyes dancing.
I grinned back. “Not conveniently. Soon as I hear her stomach rumbling, I’m gone.”
“Is rumbling a code word for fart? You’re such a gentleman.”
“There are some things you never say about a lady.”
“Oh, yeah? Like what?”
“Depends on the situation.”
“So, school me then, Brooks. What is too much to say?”
There was a devil sitting on my shoulder. Or else he was currently perched in my pants and directly responsible for the half hard cock I hoped like hell she didn’t notice. Good thing I’d worn my jacket to the Christmas tree farm. Next time, I’d add a super long scarf slash possible penis shield.
Next time? You think she’ll be still spending so much time here with you and the baby next year? She has a life. She could be dating someone by then. Or worse.
“Mentioning farts or belches or anything bodily function related,” I said quickly, causing her eyebrow to spike.
“That’s a boldface lie. You always make fun of me for belching.”
“Well, it sounds like you’re summoning a demon.” I laughed as she walloped my arm. “Try a little harder. That was like a tickle.”
“Want me to use my full strength on you, Brooks?”
God, did I ever. I wanted her to straddle me while those entrancing dark eyes of hers twinkled and her slim, strong thighs gripped my hips. I’d give her a minute to think she was in charge, and then I’d roll her beneath me and show her who was boss—in bed, if nowhere else.
