Page 20 of Sweet Boys Love Christmas
“Everything is fantastic,” I say, stabbing a hunk of broccoli. “You’re a great cook.”
Jocelyn smiles, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “That’s very kind of you.”
“Just wait until you have her apple pie with homemade vanilla ice cream.” Luke holds my gaze in a way that makes my stomach dip.
Doing my best to ignore the sensation, I clear my throat. “That sounds fantastic. I’m not sure I’ll have room.”
“I was thinking,” Jocelyn says, her smile a tad mischievous, “why don’t you stay the night?”
“Oh.” I shake my head, my heart lurching a bit. “I couldn’t impose like that.”
Luke lets out a groan. “Mom.”
“You can take Luke’s room.” She straightens, her shoulders pulled back. “It won’t be any trouble at all. He can sleep on the couch.”
“No, no.” I shake my head. “I promise you, I’m fine.”
Luke shoots me an apologetic look, but Jocelyn is not one to be deterred.
“You shouldn’t be alone on Christmas,” she says. “Please, it’ll make me feel better to have you here.”
“I…” I bite my lip, feeling cornered while simultaneously wanting to stay. But it’s ridiculous, right? She doesn’t know me.
“Just think about it,” she says, gently putting me out of my misery.
After dinner, I offer to help clean up, but Jocelyn shoos the two of us out of the kitchen and into the family room.
Once we’re alone, Luke rubs his hand against the back of his head, his closely cropped hair rasping against his palm. “I’m really sorry about her.”
“Don’t be.” I settle my butt on the couch, and instantly, a small moan falls out of my lips. Wow. This has to be the softest, most comfortable couch I’ve ever sat on. The tan piece of furniture is big and thick, and in no world would it be considered stylish, but what it lacks in looks, it makes up for in comfort.
Luke arches a brow at me, lips twitching with amusement.
“I’ve never sat on a couch this comfy before.”
He huffs a laugh. “Big Lots special.”
“I’ve never been to a Big Lots.” I rub my fingers over the soft fabric, noting the way the color shifts slightly when I move one way, then shifts back when I move the other.
“That so?” He sounds surprised, but quickly shakes his head. “Of course you haven’t. Sometimes I forget you’re…” He gestures at me.
“A Carthwright?” I finish for him.
“Yeah.” He sighs.
Pressing my palms into the cushion on either side of me, I peer up at him. “Would you take me sometime?”
He grimaces. “To Big Lots?”
“Yes.”
The furrow in his brow deepens. “You really want to go? It’s not that great.”
“I want to go.”
“Okay.” He draws out the word like maybe he’s doubting my sanity. “I could take you other places.”
I fight a smile. “Like where?”
