Barbara Dunlop - Hitched For The Holidays - Hitched For The Holidays / A Groom In Her Stocking

He moved his hands over her bare shoulders, down silky smooth arms until both her hands were covered by his. She escaped his grip and caressed the back of his neck while he locked his arms around her.

When her lips parted under his, he felt dizzy. He hadn’t allowed himself to fantasize about kissing her like this—well, not often anyway—but the reality of having her in his arms was better than anything he could imagine.

The metal clasps on her overalls pressed into his skin through the material of his shirt.

“I like what you’re wearing,” he said, exploring the contours of her back under the overall straps.

“You weren’t supposed to.”

She took his lower lip between her teeth and gently nipped at it, surprising him again because she wasn’t at all the cool, controlled woman he’d been trying to dismiss from his mind.

“What did you put in that sauce?” he asked when his voice kicked in again.

“Secret herbs and spices.”

He had a decision to make. Should he sweep her into his arms and carry her to the bedroom, or close the blinds on the picture window and…

The phone rang, waking Peaches who had been sleeping on the couch. She barked furiously, and Mindy slipped out of his arms.

“Don’t answer it.”

“Could be my dad. I have to.”

She picked it up, said hello several times, and hung up.

“Must have been a telemarketer double dialing.”

She walked into the living room and petted her dog’s head without looking at Eric. He followed, but she was bent over, showing no sign she wanted to pick up where they’d left off. Damn! What timing!

“Dad will be coming home soon,” she said, her meaning plain.

He’d forgotten about him, but surely two old buddies with nothing better to do would talk for hours.

“It’s early,” he said.

“They were only going to the Ranchero. It’s less than ten minutes from here.”

“Still, we’ve only just finished eating.”

“Yes, but…”

“Would your father be upset if we were, you know, being friendly?”

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