Tanya Michaels: Mistletoe Mommy

“Are you in love with her?” Eliza challenged.

The obvious answer was no, but somehow he got distracted giving it. He was too busy remembering the first time he’d seen Brenna, there on the side of the road. The sound of her wry, husky laugh. The party she’d thrown for Morgan. The way she kissed.

“Eliza, men and women don’t start dating because they’re in love. They date to find out if they’re compatible, to see if, under the right circumstances, they could love each other. None of this changes how much I love you guys, though.”

Morgan tried to ask, “What ‘right circumstances’?”

But Eliza overrode her with, “A week from now you’ll be back at that hospital. ” She spat the word at him like an obscenity. “Even if you think you’re ‘compatible,’ what’s the point?”

His mind skittered to the kisses he’d shared with Brenna on the porch swing. They had unfinished business, but that was hardly an appropriate answer.

“I’m not sure yet,” he admitted. “Some things you just don’t know until after the fact. But I’ve known almost since I met her that Brenna Pierce is a special person. Does anyone disagree with that?”

A moment passed, and no one said anything. She’s won us all over. Miracle of miracles, the four of them agreed on something.

“Then it’s settled,” he declared. “I’m seeing her tonight.”

JOSH HAD DONE a great job as a rafting guide-keeping them safe and informed, but entertained, too-and the kids were thrilled to see him Tuesday evening.

“Everyone got their shoes on?” he asked as he stepped into the suite. “Nat’s waiting down in the car.”

“Almost ready,” Morgan called from the girls’ shared bedroom. “Eliza’s helping me fix my hair.”

Adam faced Geoff. “Why don’t you grab my wallet off the nightstand? I want to make sure you guys have plenty of money for the food and the movie tickets.”

When it was just the two men, Josh said cheerfully, “Give Brenna a hug for me, and you two have fun tonight. Just…be careful. This is kind of my fault.”

Adam blinked. “I don’t follow.”

Josh glanced away, his expression almost guilty. “I’ve been nagging her for a couple of months to go out with somebody, anybody. And now here you are.”

Somebody, anybody? Adam’s lips twitched.

“That sounded bad,” Josh said, backpedaling. “All I meant was, Bren can be a really private person. She doesn’t open up to others easily.”

Thinking of the other night on the lodge porch, Adam raised his eyebrows. Was it possible that her stepbrother didn’t know her as well as he thought? Sure, she hadn’t introduced herself on that first day with “Hi, I’m Brenna, my mother abandoned me and I have trust issues,” which would have been freaky, but in only a couple of weeks, she’d taken Adam into her confidence. She was funny and compassionate, honest and good-natured with his kids. She’d not only had them in her home several times, she’d given them permission to be there even when she wasn’t. Hardly a closed-off misanthrope.

“I’ve been encouraging her to take chances,” Josh recapped. “And now she is! So I’m going to feel like crap if you end up hurting her.”

“Not half as crappy as I’d feel,” Adam said, a little offended that Josh thought he needed to issue a protective warning. “Trust me, I really like your sister.”

Massive understatement.

The last time Adam had cared for a woman this much, he’d gone on to marry her.

DARN QUINN for having a life anyway.

Brenna had called the woman in hopes of her coming over for wardrobe consultation, but Quinn was away on a long weekend with friends at a beach house and wouldn’t be back until tomorrow. Brenna improvised by modeling different outfits-deliberately feminine and sexy versus not-trying-too-hard, “nonchalantly sexy”-for the dog and cats. For the most part, the animals seemed undecided, viewing all clothes merely as objects on which to shed.

Finally Brenna chose a deep-blue sundress with a flirty knee-length skirt and shoulder straps that tied into simple knots over her bare arms. She double-checked to make sure no strand of cat or dog hair had made it onto the fabric. Not wanting to be overdressed for an evening at home, she left off shoes and jewelry. The look was simple and pretty.

Too antsy to just sit and wait for Adam’s arrival, she shooed the animals out into the yard and sunporch, then checked on dinner. She’d put in a lasagna earlier, setting the oven to automatically shut off in an hour. Only twenty minutes to go.

There was a knock at the door. Her pulse raced.

In the past she might have paused, taken a moment to compose herself, not wanting to seem overeager. Now she flung open the door and graced him with a bright, welcoming smile. “You’re here!”

“You’re stunning.” His gaze dropped over her body, then returned to her eyes. “I’ve never seen you in a dress before.”

She couldn’t suppress the audacious hope that he’d see her out of the dress later. “You look nice, too. Come on in.”

With the door shut behind them, he handed her a bottle of white wine. “I stopped and got this. Shall we chill it?”

“Thank you, that was very thoughtful.” She studied the label. “As it happens, this is one of my favorites.”

“Oh, it isn’t for you,” he drawled, following her into the kitchen. “It’s for me. I haven’t done this in a long time, and I figured I might need liquid courage.”

She laughed. “Am I that scary?”

Leaning closer, he traced his index finger down her face and over her collarbone. “Terrifying.”

Shivering at his touch, she whispered, “Back at you.”

As soon as she’d placed the bottle of wine in the fridge, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her thoroughly. Long, leisurely moments later, when she came up for air, Brenna purred, “I do like the way you say hi.”

He kissed her again, more intensely, until throbbing need built inside her. Her knees felt shaky, and she let herself lean on him for support.

She bit her bottom lip. “It’s been a long time for me, too, so I’m fuzzy on the etiquette of a date. What if, for instance, I skipped over the preliminaries and food and asked you to make love to me? Would that be moving too fast?”

“Fast?” His dark eyes blazed with intensity, his voice a rasp. “I’ve wanted to be inside you for days.”

His raw desire for her was dizzying. “Come with me,” she said.

He raised an eyebrow, a naughty grin tugging at his mouth.

She grinned back at him. “Into the living room!”

Taking her hand, he led her into the other room, kissing her again long before they ever reached the couch. When the backs of her legs bumped the cushions, she just kept going, reclining and pulling him down with her. They shifted so that he was lying next to her, partly atop her, still exchanging those soul-searing, bone-melting kisses.

“You’re so good at this,” she whispered, knowing instinctively that he’d be just as skilled with the rest of it.

As if reading her mind and wanting to prove her right, he nuzzled a path of kisses down toward the cleavage of her dress, stopping only when he reached the lacy edges of her bra. Then he glanced up, locking gazes with her as he untied the straps of her dress. The material slid lazily down over her shoulders, and he sucked in a breath at the sight of her in just her bra.

He traced his thumb in a wide arc over one silky cup, and her nipples hardened into tight points. She wanted to rush him onward, needing more, even as she wanted it to take forever, drawing out the potent pleasure and the deliciously exquisite ache he created. Threading her fingers through his hair, she pulled him down for a hard kiss. He deftly unclasped her bra, baring her to his touch. Instead of feeling self-conscious, she felt wanton and decadent. When he took her in his mouth, she arched off the couch with a little cry.