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“Mmmmm. That’s nice,” Lena murmured on a sigh, her hand drifting down along his abs, then brushing lower. She knew just how to play him, and he was hard and ready in an instant. “That’s even nicer.” She eased her hand away. “You’re too hot though.”
She turned away from him and he had to force himself not to instinctively tighten his arms around her, to let her go. “You’re a tease, Christmas Girl.”
Her mouth curved in a smile when he said it, but then she was asleep again, leaving him wide awake and aching with unfulfilled need. He wasn’t going to be able to lie there next to her and keep his hands where they belonged, so he slipped out of bed to make her breakfast, like she’d done for him the morning before.
“Got something for you two.”Heath edged in the bedroom door as Lena sat up, her wavy hair still tousled from the night before. She was gorgeous. Moreso when her face lit up with a smile and the spaghetti strap of her top slipped down off her shoulder.
“Is it brekkie?”
Copper lifted his nose to the air.
“Yep.” He set the wooden tray across her lap, and plucked the dog’s bowl from it. “Here, mate.” Heath set the dog’s bowl on the floor—kibble with scrambled eggs on top—and the dog leapt down.
“You’re going to spoil him.” From the way Lena was smiling, he didn’t think she minded.
“Nah. Can’t spoil a good dog.” He didn’t know if that was true, but he liked how it sounded.
Lena pulled the breakfast tray closer to her, then stopped and looked up at him. “Did you make this?”
“Nah, I ran to town and got takeout.”
She laughed. “No, the tray. Your woodworking—is this one of yours?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s really gorgeous.” She ran a finger along the lip of the tray, then caught his gaze, her eyes warm and full of something he thought might be admiration or pride.
“You should eat before it gets cold.”
She cocked her head at him, making it clear she knew he was changing the subject, and took a bite of the egg, cheese, and pepper omelet. “Yum. Where’s yours?”
“Already ate.”
“So, you’re just going to stare at me while I eat?” She made a show of licking her lips, then slipping a bite of omelet into her mouth and slowly sliding the fork out.
“Yeah. I think I am, Christmas Girl.”
She took another sensuous bite. “Well, then. What do you usually do on a Saturday?”
“Work.”
She tipped her head to the side and nodded. “Okay. Same. I guess I don’t really have a leg to stand on if I say you should take a day off now and then?”
“Like to keep busy.”
A mischievous smile bloomed on her lips. “You like to keep busy with wood?” She raised her eyebrows suggestively, then took another slow, sensuous bite of omelet. He was missing something.
“Yeah. Woodworking. In my shop.”
She laughed. “Is it reallyhardwood?”
“Sometimes?” His confusion must’ve shown on his face, because she dropped the sultry act.
“Okay. I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “Obviouslywooddoesn’t mean the same thing in Australia as it does in America.”
“Uh, what does it mean?”
“It’s another word for, um, a hard on?” He shook his head and her cheeks pinked. “For what you’ve got going on there.” She pointed at his crotch, where his erection was bulging against his fly. “Which I’m in full support of, for what it’s worth.”
