with his mother and watch a movie about two people who fall in love while competing in a cookie-baking contest.”
I stare at him, bewildered, and I sarcastically say, “It’s amazing to see this side of you that you keep away from the world.”
“Glad you have a front row seat.” He winks.
Ella comes running down the stairs. “Santa came!” she screams.
We both laugh at her excitement. As his family walks into the room, I try to scoot away from Hunter, but he wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me closer.
Melissa and Tyler are behind Ella. The little boy in Tyler’s arms is dying to get down to join his sister.
“Wow, did you really start a fire?” Melissa asks with surprise laced in her voice. “Pulling out the big guns with this one, huh, little brother?”
“Melissa, be sweet,” Nancy says as she comes into view at the top of the staircase. “Morning, everyone.”
She smiles as she makes her way into the room, wearing plaid Ralph Lauren pajamas. Randy is right behind her in similar attire.
“Look what Santa brought me!” Ella yells while reaching up to get her stuffed stocking.
“Whoa, let me get that for you before everything spills out.” Tyler places his son down and races over to where Ella is getting close to the fire.
Hunter leans up to grab his nephew off the floor to bring him to his lap. “What’s up, little man?”
The boy smiles brightly as he opens his arms to climb closer to Hunter. “Uncky,” he coos.
Hunter turns to me with a huge smile as the little boy attacks his mouth with his tiny hands and climbs all over him. “This is Thomas,” he says to me.
I rest my head on Hunter’s shoulder to see him better. “Hello, Thomas. How old is he?”
Thomas bounces up and down on Hunter’s legs while Hunter holds him around his waist.
“He just turned one. He’s my future wingman.”
“He’s a baby,” Melissa states.
“A baby who loves his Uncky and will help me woo the ladies,” Hunter banters back.
“You’re not that special. He loves anyone who will give him attention … just like his uncle,” she taunts in return. “And who are you wooing? Your girlfriend is literally sitting right there.”
Hunter turns to me with Thomas’s face smooshed up against his cheek. “What do you say, Katie McGee? Am I even more attractive with this meatball next to me?”
I don’t want to tell him that my stomach does a flip at the sight of his handsome face with a beautiful baby. In fact, I didn’t even know I could feel my ovaries until this very minute because they’re rattling with desire, making me want to crawl on Hunter’s lap and take him here on the couch. But that would be inappropriate. His family is here. He has a baby in his arms. And sex with Hunter is kinda off the table … I think.
“Stop, you two. Thomas loves everyone,” Nancy says, bending down to pick him up from Hunter and taking him into the kitchen.
“Yeah, but we share the same birthday, so we’re extra cool,” Hunter says proudly.
I turn to Hunter, wide-eyed. “You just had a birthday?”
He tries to blow me off. “It was a few weeks ago. No big deal.”
How did I not know it was his birthday? He sits by my desk every day.
“You should have told me. I would have done something nice.”
He smiles. “You did. You had on that green sweater with an otter on it. When I told you it was cute, you said, ‘Get otter here.’ It made my day.”
I hit myself in my forehead with my palm. “My jokes sound so corny, coming out of your mouth.”
He chuckles. “And then Branson asked you where the data was for the Nielsen report, and you told him to flip the file over because it was on the otter side.”
I shake my head in embarrassment. “It’s no wonder the man has never noticed me.”
As I say it, I can feel Hunter’s body stiffen. I might not know what this thing between us is, but bringing up Branson is probably a bad idea even if it is exactly how we started.
Melissa doesn’t seem to have heard our conversation because she continues, “Ugh, don’t remind me I have another boy Sagittarius on my hands. Hopefully, he’s not as prone to explore and roam like you are.”
Hunter scoffs, pretending to be offended, “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“You’re thirty-three and still single. Well”—she points at me—“semi-single, I guess.”
He looks