to know his first grandson carries his name.”
I took a large mouthful of the Malbec. “Yeah, I think he would.”
“Do you miss him?”
I eyed her curiously. She’d never been one to ask those kinds of questions before. “Yes, every day.”
“Did he cook a lot too?”
“All the time. Mom used to joke that she’d hit the jackpot by marrying a man who liked to be in the kitchen.” A memory made me laugh. “My dad always used to tell me I could have the woman of my dreams if I knew how to make a good meal.”
Kathryn tucked her feet up under herself and curled a strand of hair around her finger. “He sounds like he understood women.”
“Only so much as any man can, I imagine.” I set my wine down on the table beside me. “Thank you for helping me tonight. I probably would have been doing this until midnight if I were on my own.”
“I’m happy I could help. We made a good team in there.”
“We did,” I agreed. “That’s what Christmas is all about, you know? Helping people. Gestures. It’s not about the gifts and the lights all the time but the willingness and the desire to show up for the people you love when they need you—without them having to ask.”
Kathryn licked her lips. “I think I’m starting to learn that, Ethan. Because of you.” She put her wine down as well, and before I knew it, she was crawling across the sofa and sitting on her knees beside me. “I’ve always thought that mind of yours was full of sawdust. But now? Now I’m starting to think it’s rather beautiful.”
“Thanks, I think?”
She giggled softly. “Shut up.”
There was a tickle of a retort at the back of my throat but I never had a chance to say it because my dream girl leaned in, pressed a warm palm to my cheek, and kissed me.
Chapter 29
Kathryn
Ethan drew me up against his chest and I felt like I belonged there when he nuzzled my face to the side and kissed my neck. He ran his hands over my waist and hips, paused to squeeze my thighs, and stole more kisses before pushing me down onto my back on the sofa.
He was on top of me in seconds.
I smiled up at him as he braced himself above me with one hand planted beside my head and the other gripping the back of the sofa.
“How do we keep finding ourselves like this?” he asked.
I didn’t have an answer for him, not one I was willing to speak aloud anyway. But I answered him in my head.
Because all I want is to be under you.
Ethan’s body drew all of my attention. I loved the way the muscles in his forearms were on display. He’d rolled his sleeves up when we were cooking and it had been difficult to stay focused on the recipes when all I wanted to do was stare at his arms, wrists, and shoulder blades. The way they pressed up against the fabric of his shirt whenever his back was turned did something to me that I couldn’t explain. It made me feel hot inside, like a gently boiling pot of water that wouldn’t quite get hot enough until he touched me.
Like he was touching me right then.
My skin sang with relief and my underwear begged to be stripped away. Everything begged to be stripped away.
“There’s something you should know.” Ethan ran a finger down the center of my chest until he reached the neckline of my blouse. The top two buttons were already open to let the girls breathe, but he began flicking the remaining ones open as he worked his way all the way down to my navel.
“And what’s that?” I breathed.
“You’re a terrible cook.”
“This body was made for eating, not for cooking.”
“And for fucking.”
The air in my lungs felt thin as a needy breath rushed out of me. “And for fucking.”
Ethan pressed my thighs apart. The fabric of my skirt stretched and strained against the outside of my thighs, so he ran his hands up my nylons until he reached the hemline of the skirt. Slowly, like the tease he was, he began inching it upward.
It got caught up around my ass.
He chuckled and began rubbing me over my nylons and panties. “How do you wear so many layers all day long?”
“It’s a necessary evil.”
“It’s like unwrapping a Christmas present.”
“Well in that case,” I purred as I draped an arm behind his neck and pulled him