Grace Anne - By Kathi S. Barton Page 0,31

And blueberries are my favorite. Tell your wife I look forward to trying them.”

They walked into the house and he showed her around. The house had been a real buy and the timing couldn’t have been more perfect. He’d gotten such a good deal on the house and the surrounding twenty acres that he’d had an office put in just so he could stay here some days instead of traveling to the city every day.

The front hall was the perfect place to start. The double wide staircase went up the first level and split off into two different directions. The stairs to the left led to the guest bedrooms and the one to the right to the family’s rooms. He bypassed the stairs in favor of the lower level, knowing that if he got her upstairs he’d never come back down again tonight.

“This room is what Molly calls the sitting room. I like it. It’s warm and if I want to have a fire, it’s easy to flip on the gas. And if you pull this wall away.” Michael reached over and moved the panel that slid into the wall beside it. “You can watch a little television or listen to the sound system. Trace and I spend a lot of time in here.”

“I can see why. It’s the kind of room you can kick off your shoes and lay back.” She wandered over to the set of windows that bracketed each side of the fireplace. “The view is amazing. I didn’t even know there were these kinds of places in New York.”

He sat in the overstuffed chair near the fireplace before saying anything. “It’s the reason we loved it so much. Trace wanted a yard like his grandma and I wanted the privacy that being out in the middle of nowhere could give you.”

She moved to the other door and into the dining room. He got up to follow her after kicking off his shoes. He knew he should pick them up, but was loath to leave her to discover his house on his own. She was talking to Molly when he entered.

“Oh no, miss, it’s no problem. I love to bake and having some reason to do so makes my day. Tim, he doesn’t appreciate a good baked bread, but the mister here does.” Michael walked up behind Grace as Molly continued. “The miss here was telling me that she liked the smell of my bread. I was telling her that I could make her blueberry muffins in the morning while you and young Trace have your pancakes. She was fussing at me not to do so.”

“Blueberry muffins with the sugar on top? Oh, Grace, you’ll have to have them. They’re only rivaled by her apple crunch. I hope you’ll bake enough for me to take to work on Monday.” Molly nodded and disappeared in the kitchen. He turned Grace in his arms and looked down at her. “She’ll make them anyway so you might as well decide to eat them now. You wouldn’t want to hurt her feelings now, would you?”

She glared at him. “Do you always get your way? I mean, it seems like you think you should so I’m wondering if you do. I’m not a pushover, Mr. Cunningham, so you’d better get that thought out of your head right now.”

“Are you hungry?” he asked her suddenly. “Do you think you could wait for, I don’t know…a couple of hours before you’ll need to eat again?”

“I suppose so, why?” He scooped her up into his arms and headed for the stairs. “What is wrong with you? Put me down this instant. Of all the—Michael Cunningham, put me down.”

He stopped halfway up the right flank of stairs and put her on her feet. He was glad for the wall behind her because, when he pulled her to him and rocked into her, she leaned back against it and lifted her leg over his hip. Lifting her up by her ass, he was glad when she wrapped both her legs around him so that he could walk and feel her pussy pressed over his raging hard-on. If he made it till morning he was going to be really surprised.

And if they made it downstairs again before ten, it was going to be a miracle.

Chapter 10

Thomas sat in the lobby and waited for Michael to come in. He looked at his watch again and couldn’t believe his stepbrother was coming in so late. It was nearly eight-thirty on