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“Uh-huh.” Bridget turned her copy around so Jonas could see the photo. “Don’t you think so, Jonas?”
“You look cute, Molly,” he said right away. “It’s a funny photo. You two could be in a comedy together.”
“You mean like a movie?” Molly asked doubtfully.
The trace of confidence in her daughter’s voice let Bridget know that she was getting used to it. Seeing your own face in a national publication was a little disconcerting. Without saying anything besides a fast “Yes,” Bridget flipped back to the photo of her and Jonas.
Holy cow. They were kissing so happily they looked like an ad for mistletoe.
“So, uh, how did the photos of us look?” Jonas asked Bridget nonchalantly.
“They only used one.”
He sat up a little straighter in the armchair he had been dozing in. “Mind if I see it?”
“Not at all.” Bridget opened the magazine to it and handed it over, watching his neutral expression change to one of masculine pride when he looked down at the photo.
“Very nice,” was all he said, glancing at Molly, who was still obsessing over her own photo with Mrs. Dutton’s nephew. Jonas favored Bridget with a very suggestive wink once he was sure her daughter wasn’t looking.
Bridget cleared her throat. “So … everybody ready for dessert?”
Much later, when Molly was in bed and they could get as close as they liked on the sofa, Jonas gave Bridget a lingering, warmly sensual kiss. His body was to the side of hers, his weight and strength a pleasure to have so near. She reached up a hand and stroked his cheek. “Thanks for everything. That was a wonderful Thanksgiving.”
“I’m thinking we could do that every year,” he said casually.
“Oh? I’m not sure how my mother would react.” She sensed him stiffen slightly.
“Maybe it’s time that … never mind.”
Bridget frowned, knowing she’d said the wrong thing. “Mmm. Sorry I mentioned her.”
“It’s all right.” Jonas began to kiss her again, almost as if he wanted her to not think about anything but him. As distractions went, it was quite effective.
“So,” she breathed, when he decided to take a rest, “what are you doing for the rest of the four-day weekend?”
“Hmm,” he said into her hair. “This would be nice.”
“Molly’s going to be around,” she reminded him. “And I have to open up the shop early tomorrow to get everything ready for the Christmas shoppers.”
Jonas growled and grumbled into her ear. “I can take a hint,” he said finally. “Okay, I have things to do too.”
Laughing, Bridget put a hand on his muscular chest and gave an ineffective little push. He stayed right where he was. “Such as?” she asked.
“I have to drive back to New York and get the last of my stuff out of storage. See some people at the clinic. Things like that.”
She pouted. “I wanted to see the Christmas windows on Fifth Avenue.”
Jonas shrugged but he drew her closer. “You’re too busy.”
With one hand, she managed to roll up the copy of Good Living wedged into the sofa, and swatted him with it. “We got national publicity. I’d like to take advantage of it and do really special Christmas windows right here in Randolph. I need some inspiration.”
“I see,” he said. “Tell you what. Let’s go down in early December. We don’t even have to drive—we can take the Vermonter train all the way to Penn Station.”
Satisfied with that idea, Bridget nestled into his chest again. “Okay. My mother will be back by then to take care of Molly.”
Jonas stroked her hair, not answering right away. “Well, I know how excited she’d be to see the city at Christmas, but we can bring her another time. This is going to be just you and me, babe. We’ll do the town together. How does that sound?”
“Sounds good to me.” She lifted her face and he gave her the best kiss of the day.
