Page 315 of Screwged for Christmas

From the large island in the middle to the back-counter tops by the sink and the small table pushed up beneath a window overlooking the lake—the entire kitchen looked as though a Christmas bomb detonated in the middle.

Garland, baubles, tensile, lights. You name it, it was there.

“Coffee is two feet to the left of the Santa hat and three steps right of the mistletoe.”

She didn’t ask, only followed since her morning coffee sat cold and forgotten on her side table.

Sweet heavenly goodness. “Bless your heart, Aspen Kennedy.” She took another hit of her coffee.

“From the look on your face, I’m going to wager I earned a few brownie points this morning?”

“Yes. Thecoffeeis that good.” She knew for a fact it wasn’t the coffee buzzing through her body but enjoyed teasing him all the same.

His smirk turned into a full grin and now she understood why resisting him was futile.

“Doughnut?” he offered as he waded through the packages, extending a white paper bag.

“There’s nothing sexier than a man brandishing a donut bag in the morning.” She smiled and loved watching his turn a little more devilish.

“Evil plans and all that. I figured after the workout this morning you would need a little pampering.” He chuckled, running a hand through his hair as he mirrored her position against the opposite counter.

“So, you came with a plan, did you?”

“It’s kind of freaky when you read my mind like that.”

She could kiss him. If she dared. Did she? One long draw of his cologne, the coffee as the igniter and fueled by sweet remnants of their morning still causing her clit to pulsate and they might be doing dirty kitchen sex.

Heat rushed into her cheeks at that thought and she moved to hide it behind her large mug.

Temptation on two legs.

Her eyes drew to the scarf tossed on the edge of the kitchen counter. She reached between them and rubbed a hand over the soft material. Its frayed, worn edges only made it look comfortable. Loved.

“You still have it.”

He nodded, leaning in to place a kiss to the top of her head. “It’s my favorite. Most winter days I don’t go without it.”

He took her hand in his and slowly lifted it to his mouth. The stubble tickled her palm as she wrapped his hand around his cheek. She knew whatever this was wouldn’t last past her leaving Dixen, so she soaked it all in while she could.

He pressed a kiss to her palm and said, “You’re thinking too loud again. Ready to get to work?”

She mentally shook herself.

Suddenly she wished she’d taken the time to find a prettier sweater from the clothes her sisters left behind on one of their trips. As it were, she sported a fresh pair of black jeans—thank God for that— and a long-sleeved pullover with the B&B’s logo on it. Nothing fancy or eye-catching.

Max took that moment to bound through the kitchen, using the piles of bags, boxes and packages of decorations as his own amusement. Tinsel clung to his fur and he somehow managed to get garland wrapped around his middle as he nosed through one box after another. “Where did you get all this stuff?”

Aspen gestured upward. “Your attic. Most of them, anyway. The other stuff is from Mom’s. She sends her love and says she’ll see you at the party.”

“Party?”

Aspen cranked an eyebrow up.

All the sex and sugar gave her momentary amnesia. Or her brain was on an Aspen overload. Both. Yeah, definitely both. “Right. Party.” She still had a day to figure out how to weasel her way out of that commitment.

“So, where do you want to get started?” Aspen clapped his hands together and eyed her handiwork from the previous night. “Are you a top to bottom or bottom to top kind of girl?”

She swallowed hard. That was definitely a filthy question to ask and he knew it with how his eyes lit up.

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