Page 38 of The Fake Fiance's Billionaire Adversary
Hunter rubbed his knuckles along his jaw as fire raced up his neck. “Uh.”
“You need to work on your vocabulary when you’re under stress. You’ve got a lot ofuh’sand not much else.” She smiled. “On a serious note, despite how this may have started, I’ve enjoyed meeting your family.”
“Is it against the rules to hug you?” he asked, hoping for the best and preparing for the worst.
Shaking her head, she stepped into him, tucking her hands in against his chest. He was pretty sure this was what his mom meant by needing him and not his money. He kissed the top of her head and rested his cheek against it.
“You keep stopping me from apologizing—”
She pulled back. “Hunter,” she said, shaking her head.
He covered her mouth with his hand. “I’m sorry for overreacting about the money. It wasn’t right to do that. I guess…I guess you weren’t the only one in need of a revelation.”
Holding his gaze, Reagan sighed and waited a few beats before taking his hand from her mouth. “Okay.” As she leaned into him again, he wrapped his arms around her.
He’d enjoyed kissing her, but this, just being together, was more precious than the kissing. Not that he didn’t want more of the kissing, but he liked this just as much.
Wyatt stepped out of the living room. “Come on, lovebirds. You’re holding everything up.” He grinned.
Reagan stepped back and looked at him. “I smell cinnamon rolls. If all this hugging has made me late and they’re cold, the next time I make coffee…” Her lips turned up, and her eyes glinted with mischief. “Well, we’ll just leave it there. That way, I can feign innocence.”
Shaking his head, Hunter laughed. “Come on. Let’s go find a seat.”
Her fingers tangled in his without him even asking, and he could have fist-pumped the air. First a hug and now holding hands? They weren’t huge victories, but he’d take them.
On their way to the living room, they stopped in the kitchen. Most of his family had already taken their share of the goodies, a cinnamon roll, and their choice of hot chocolate, cider, or milk. Once they were loaded up, they walked to the living room and took a spot out of the line of traffic near the back of the tree, setting their drinks on the floor.
When they got seated, Reagan eyed him. “Anxious for presents?”
“No, this is self-preservation.” He smiled. “I learned the hard way to stay away from the traffic after one too many hot drinks were dumped on me.”
Reagan covered her mouth with her hand and giggled.
He scoffed. “That’s not funny.”
That only made her laugh harder.
Balancing his plate with one hand, Hunter slipped his arm around her and pulled her closer. “It’s not nice to laugh at someone.”
“If you make me drop my cinnamon roll, I’m taking yours.” She wrinkled her nose as she teased him.
He set his lips next to her ear. “You may not believe me, but I love hearing you laugh.”
Her laugh died, and she straightened and looked into his eyes. It seemed as if she were debating how to respond. Leaning in, she said, “I don’t think I’ve ever loved a smile as much as I love yours. It makes your eyes a lighter color.”
The root of hope grew a little deeper, and the uncertainty he’d had before lessened. “Can we negotiate terms to move past the white flag?”
“Let’s…let’s take things as they come.”
He pressed his lips to her forehead. “You’re the boss.”
A wide smile quirked on her lips, reaching all the way to her eyes. “That definitely gets me to the table.”
Mr. Fredericks put his hands to his mouth. “Okay, it’s time to start gifts. This year we’re drawing names out of a hat. Remember, the smallest gift. No secret alliances are allowed,” he said and eyed Josiah.
Hunter busted out laughing and looked at Reagan. “He was caught two Christmases ago talking to Wyatt.”
Josiah grumbled. “I was not.”
