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Seeing him through the eyes of all the people he’s helped just seals the deal in stone. I’m going to marry the best man in town.
The camera cuts back to Jenna. “Well, that’s quite a story, Mr. Bailey. Is there anyone out there you would like to wish a special Merry Christmas to?”
He looks down shyly and a sweet smile spreads across his face and crinkles his eyes at Jenna. “Yeah. I’d like to say Merry Christmas to my mom, and also to my favorite weather girl, Chief Meteorologist Mary Reed.” He then turns to the camera. “Mary if you’re watching, I love you. And not in a TV fanboy kind of way.”
Jenna pulls back the mic and signs off with, “Don’t we all just love her? Back to you in the studio, Corky.”
I click off the TV and drop the remote. I also drop my phone and cover my mouth.
Just then, I hear keys in the door.
Seconds later the door opens and it’s Bear. And also, a huge, floppy-eared yellow lab bounds in out of the snow to greet me.
“Mary, meet Martha,” Bear says, and I start to laugh with tears in my eyes.
Martha the dog runs up to me and sniffs, lets me pet her, and then she trots off.
“I didn’t see a dog bed, or toys…” I start.
Bear has himself stripped down to his shirt and jeans, kicking off his snow gear in the tile entryway. He greets me with a giant bear hug and his lips are cold when he covers my mouth with his.
“You’re freezing,” I say.
“Then warm me up,” he says gruffly, although he can’t hide his smile.
My feet are dangling as he’s still got me caught up in his arms.
“I made coffee,” I reply.
But instead he rakes the tips of his fingers under the hem of the boxers I’m wearing, which are huge on me. He easily finds my warm folds, which are aroused and damp just at the sight of him.
“I have a better idea,” he says.
He plunges a finger inside me and I suck in my breath.
This is going to be the nicest Christmas Day ever.
Chapter 18
Bear
She gasps as I find her clit and circle it with my fingers.
I ran you a hot bath,” she says.
“Is that so?”
She nods. “I thought your muscles would be tired and achy after all that work this morning.”
I run a thumb across her lips and then down her throat, then hook my thumb over the first button on the shirt of mine that she’s wearing.
“Wearing my shirt, my boxers. Making coffee. Offering me a bath. Feels like what married people do for each other.”
I use that finger to pull her in for a long, deep, smoldering kiss. It’s the kind of kiss meant to make a girl feel like she’s the only other person on the planet. The kind of kiss meant to make her knees buckle under her. The kind that comes from a man who wants to give her everything and expects nothing in return.
But I do want something.
She must be a mind-reader, because while I’m massaging her sweet, sticky folds with one hand and cupping her breast with the other, she manages to give me exactly what I want.
