One Little Dare - Whitney Barbetti Page 0,90

and fostering kittens in her spare time. If anything, she was more alive—more vibrant—than ever.

“Have you heard from him?” Mom asked, lighting candles on the table.

“Not since an hour ago.”

“Maybe you’ll have to go rescue him,” Liam joked.

I rolled my eyes. “He’s driving his truck. I’m sure he can handle it.”

My mom patted my shoulder. “If he can handle you, dear, he can handle our snow-covered roads.”

“Good roast, Mom,” James said, holding up his hand for a high-five.

Mom slapped his hand and ruffled his hair. “I forgot to tell you, you’ll be bunking with Liam while he’s here.”

“What?” James and I asked at the same time.

“Mom, seriously? You’re not going to let us have the guest bed?” I asked.

“If I do that, James will have to sleep on the couch.” She raised an eyebrow. “Besides, you know how I feel about my unmarried children sharing a bed with their significant others.”

Holding up my hand, I showed her the wedding band I still wore. “Technically, I did get married.”

“Not for real. Get married for real and I’ll allow it. Until then, Liam will get the bed and James will get the cot.”

“I get the cot? But I’m your son.”

“Exactly. And Liam is our guest.” Mom patted my shoulder again. “You and I will share my bed. It’ll be fun.”

“Fun,” I said flatly.

“Maybe you should get a hotel,” James said. “Then I won’t be kicked out of my own bed.”

“It’s not your bed,” Mom replied. “It’s for guests. Which Liam is, whenever he gets here.”

As if she had summoned him with those words, I saw familiar headlights pull down the road to the parking lot and ran out the door faster than probably safe, considering the ice-cold and slippery steps.

The temperature must have been below zero, but I didn’t care as I sprinted toward Liam’s approaching truck. He hadn’t even put his vehicle into park before I was wrenching open the driver’s door and climbing onto his lap.

“Hey,” he said with a laugh before I kissed him. I wrapped my arms around his neck and wedged myself uncomfortably between the steering wheel and his body in order to be as close as physically possible. “Mmm,” he hummed as I kissed him with all the passion I’d bottled up in the two weeks since I had last seen him.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” I said, feeling warm for the first time since our last goodbye. “I missed you.”

“I can tell. It feels good to be missed.”

I gently punched him in the chest. “No, you’re supposed to say you missed me too.”

Liam’s arm came around my waist, bringing me even closer. “I think it’s pretty obvious I missed you,” he said meaningfully as he grinded me against him.

“I’m sure your penis missed me, but how about the rest of you?”

Liam laughed. “I don’t think there’s a single atom of my body that didn’t miss you.” He took my hands in his. “Oh, you’re cold.” He brought them up to his mouth and blew warm air over them as he rubbed them warm. “Wait, where’s your coat?”

“I ran out without one,” I replied, snuggling into him. God, it felt fucking spectacular to have him home.

“Then come here.” He opened his coat and my arms came around his middle as I settled my face into his neck. He was so warm and smelled like everything I’d missed in his absence.

“Do you want to go inside?” he asked after a minute.

“Not really. I want you all to myself.”

He chuckled, running his hands down my back. “I want that too. But I don’t want you to be out in this cold any longer. It would be a terrible thing to catch frostbite. I’m pretty fond of your fingers.” He shifted me so he could hold my hand. He smiled down at the wedding band I still wore and said, “Especially this one.”

I didn’t have to ask if he was wearing his; I already knew. Something silly, probably, but we had not taken them off since Vegas. He was still my boyfriend—not my husband—but I loved having that physical reminder of him always.

Inside, Liam was embraced by my mom, who fretted over his pink nose and pushed a glass of mulled wine into his hands. James gave him some dude handshake and asked him about his truck. While they talked engines, I helped my mom set the table. Despite it being just the four of us, she made it feel homey and warm. “Did you tell him yet?” she

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