Page 108 of Indigo Ridge (The Edens 1)

“Kiss the cook.”

She shut the fridge and walked over to where I stood against the counter, fitting herself against my chest. Her hands snaked around my waist, dipping beneath the hem of my shirt. The moment her palms flattened on the bare skin of my back, my mouth was on hers. Our tongues battled that delicious war.

Seconds away from tearing her shirt off, I froze when I heard the front door open.

“Griffin, if your dick is out, this is your five-second warning to put it away before the girls get here.” Knox’s voice carried down the hallway.

I tore my mouth away from Winn’s, wiping it dry. “Go away.”

He ignored me, emerging from the entryway. When he strode into the kitchen, it was for Winn. “Hi, I’m Knox.”

Winn cleared her throat and stepped away, no longer shielding the bulge behind my zipper. “Hi. I’m Winslow.”

“Nice to meet you.” He shook her hand, then shot me a look. “Finally.”

The dinner date I’d promised her at the restaurant hadn’t happened. Partly because we’d been busy. Partly because we both seemed content to lock ourselves away together.

“The girls are bringing dinner.” Knox went to the fridge and pulled out one of my beers. “And I’m taking the rare evening not to be in charge of a meal.”

“Wait.” I held up a finger. “What dinner?”

“Mom said you were home and that she saw Winslow’s car here. So we’re invading.” He turned to Winn. “Making sure you know there’s no hard feelings about the Briggs thing and that the only one to get riled up about it was you.”

Winn’s frame relaxed. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Knox winked at her.

I sighed, grateful for the show of support even if I wasn’t overly excited about a full house. “So everyone’s coming here?”

Knox shook his head. “Mom and Dad already had plans.”

“What if we had plans?”

“Did you?” Knox asked Winn.

“No.” She laughed. “Just dinner.”

“See?” He tipped his beer to me, then after a drink, went back to the fridge to get me one. “Drink this and relax. Be grateful we’ve given you two this long.”

I took the bottle, twisted off the top and offered it to Winn. “You might need this.”

“The girls are bringing sangria,” Knox said.

“Oh, I’ll wait for that.” Winn waved off my beer.

“But . . .” Knox raised his eyebrows. “Eloise made the sangria.”

I cringed. “Baby, you’d better stick with beer. Or I’ll open a bottle of wine for you.”

“What’s wrong with Eloise’s sangria?” she asked.

“Mom likes to

joke that she gifted us kids her cooking talent, except because she gave so much to Knox and Lyla, by the time Eloise and Mateo were born, there was nothing left for them.”

“There’s a chance the sangria might kill you,” Knox said.

Winn swiped the beer bottle from my hand.