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“Like, when? Next year, five years, ten years?”
“Why are you asking me this?”
Why was she asking him this? She wasn’t exactly sure. She shrugged, trying to keep it casual. “Just curious. It’s a fair question, given that you’re practically over the hill.”
“I’m only a little bit older than you. If I’m over the hill, then you’re cresting the rise.”
She laughed, glad to see that she’d diffused the situation. “Good point. Let’s not think about it anymore.”
The sound of voices drifted up from the driveway at that moment, so there was no opportunity to further the conversation, which, in Mikayla’s mind, was probably a good thing.
Chapter 12
Mikayla giggled. “No, stop, we have to go down.”
“I could.” Rafe raised his head to look at her, her eyes sparkling in the dim light. They’d been about to head downstairs when he’d grabbed her and spinning her around, pinned her to the wall with his body.
She gasped as he ran his hand over her hip, under her pajama top. “You have no idea how tempting that is,” she said, grabbing his hand through her top and stopping him before he got to her breast. “But we have to go downstairs.”
“Do we?” He asked, pressing fiery kisses along her neck.
“Mm,” she said, tilting her head to give him better access. She allowed him to think she was giving in, before resolutely putting her hands on his shoulders and pushing him back. “Just for an hour or so. Callum’s making mulled wine and I don’t want to miss it.”
Rafe pulled back with a sigh. “I can’t compete with Callum’s mulled wine,” he said, with mock sadness.
“Aww, yes you can.” Mikayla grabbed his shirt front, and pulling him against her, gave him a smacking kiss. “But not for the next hour. Let’s go.” She pushed at him, trying to maneuver him out the door.
“One more kiss.”
“Oh alright, if you must.”
“I must.” He took her face in his hands, gazing at her for a long moment. Her brown eyes sparkled in the soft light of the bedside lamp; her lips curved in a sweet smile. He kissed her softly, sliding his arms around her, deepening the kiss when she sighed. He thought he could kiss her forever. Just stand in this room, with Mikayla in his arms, and kiss her endlessly. But instead, he lifted his head, smiling as her eyes drifted open.
“On second thought...” she said, rising on tiptoes to try and kiss him again.
“Nah, you had your chance.” He grinned as she pouted at him, then pulled her behind him as he walked through the door and down the stairs. Once they got to the bottom, he felt her hands on his shoulders and braced himself to catch her as she boosted up, wrapping her legs around his waist. He hooked his arms under her legs and piggy backed her into the lounge room.
“You keep carrying her around like that, McKenzie, you two are gonna turn into the Berko brothers.” Callum was sitting cross legged on the floor in front of the fire, setting up a portable gas stove.
Leah, sitting on a beanbag next to him, slicing oranges at the coffee table, asked, “Who are the Berko brothers?”
Rafe let go of Mikayla’s legs as she gasped, “You’ve never heard the story of the Berko brothers? The greatest horror story ever told? Did you never go on school camp as a kid?” There was no disguising the astonished tone in Mikayla’s voice.
“I went to an all-girls, Baptist school. Our school camps were usually volunteering at a House of Prayer.”
Juniper, carrying wine glasses in from the kitchen, said, “I’ve never heard of them either.” She placed the wine glasses on the coffee table, moving to curl up on the couch next to William.
“What travesty is this? You’ve both been robbed, there’s no other word for it. But we can fix it.” Mikayla flopped down on a beanbag, close to the fire, making room for Rafe to stretch out next to her. “You tell it, Callum. You always tell it better.”
Callum took the orange slices from Leah and dropped them in the pot on top of the portable stove, then added spices from a bowl he’d prepared on the coffee table. “Turn the lights off, then, Mik.”
“Do we have to?” Asked Leah, a tremulous note already in her voice.
“Yes!” Mikayla said, jumping up and quickly taking care of the lights before sitting back down next to Rafe. The only illumination, then, was the fire, the gas flame from the portable stove and a single candle burning on the coffee table.
Callum, squinting in the dim light, checked the label on the wine William had put on the table. “Good choice.” He poured it into the pot, stirring gently with a wooden spoon, then added the second bottle.
Mikayla stretched her leg out and gave him a poke with her toe. “Get on with it.”
