Page 96 of Can't Get Over You
“I’ll bring snacks,” Boone said. “Chips, pretzels.”
“Yeah, because Christmas Eve is just like a tailgate party,” Wyatt said. “Step it up.”
“Oh, okay,” Boone said. “Would you prefer a baked brie? Maybe a cranberry crostini?”
“I’m not eating cranberry crostini,” Jude said.
“Bring a jar of salsa and call it done,” Gunnar said.
“Sounds good to me,” Boone said. “You ever try those lime chips? They slap so hard.”
Okay, clearly, this was a potluck kind of thing. She had to participate, but she didn’t really cook. “Can I bring dessert?”
“Sure,” Gunnar said. “What’re you thinking?”
“Bring whatever you want,” Boone said.
“Says someone who doesn’t give a crap what he puts in his cakehole.” Gunnar poured the warm hot chocolate into mugs.He set two on the table and then called up the stairs, “Cocoa’s ready.”
“Be right there,” the boy called from his room.
Gunnar made his way back to the table. “So, dessert?”
“I’d love to make a Bûche de Noël.” Finlay could already see the fork tines she’d draw in the chocolate icing to look like bark, the plastic frogs and snakes she’d add for decoration.
Do they sell moss at the craft store?
“Works for me.” Gunnar seemed pleased.
“He usually buys one from The Singing Baker or Coco’s Chocolates,” Jude said. “So that’s perfect.”
“Oh, good.” She liked that she had something meaningful to offer. “I’ve always wanted to make one.”
“Cool.” Gunnar went back into the kitchen to pour two more mugs full of cocoa. He brought them to the table. “What’s he doing up there? I’m gonna check.”
“Don’t rush him. He’s making a present.” Wyatt’s chair scraped back. “I’ll bring his cocoa.”
“I’ve got a way with the ladies,” Boone teased. “I’ll help him with the card.”
“You know how creepy that sounds, right?” Wyatt asked.
All three headed for the stairs, leaving her alone with Jude.
She got up to clear the plates, and Jude followed her to the sink. As she rinsed, he loaded the dishwasher. She couldn’t help noticing his goofy smile. “What’re you thinking about?”
“You stood up for me.” He kissed her on the mouth.
“Well, somebody had to. You’re not responsible for lousy teachers.”
“Look at you, getting all worked up.” He slid his fingers through her hair. “You’re beautiful.” His gaze was soft and warm. “You make me happy.”
He overwhelmed her. His affection, his scent, his size and strength. She couldn’t think, couldn’t form a sentence…couldbarely take a breath. It almost felt like a déjà vu moment, though she’d never imagined being in a home with his dad and brothers, eating gingerbread pancakes and drinking hot cocoa.
He shut off the faucet, gripped her under her arms, and set her on the counter. Pushing her legs open with his hips, he set one hand on her cheek while the other slid into her hair. He kissed her with such devotion, such worship, that her body pulsed with need.
His urgency, his desperation burned hot enough to incinerate the barrier that kept their bodies from fusing. She needed it. The way he wanted her… It made her whole.
Gunnar barked out a laugh, and heavy boots hit the stairs.
