Part 14 (1/2)

She glanced up, and he stroked his thumb across her knuckles.

”We're not done yet. I want a rain check.”

With one final, unreadable stare, she pulled her hands free and dove gracefully under the next wave, swimming away from him with languid strokes.

Low moans, the scent of wildflowers, lush, warm skin beneath his roaming hands. His heart hammering, pounding, barking- Barking? Nate yanked the pillow off his face with a groan. Scratching noises from the garage door, then another volley of deep woofs a.s.saulted his ears. A brief pause and the banging started again, followed by Drew's high-pitched voice.

”Nate. Open the door! It's Christmas, and Santa's been! Hurry up, Nate!”

Dragging a hand down his jaw, which had a similar texture to a baby cactus and nothing whatsoever like his dream of Lauren's smooth curves, Nate swung his legs off the futon.

”All right, all right. I'm coming.”

He cracked open an eye. Darkness. His feet were a pale blur on the floor, which meant he should still be dreaming of wildflowers and Lauren's b.r.e.a.s.t.s. h.e.l.l. What time was it? He flicked on a lamp, hauled on his jeans and s.h.i.+rt and picked his way over to open the garage door. Drew jiggled in pajamas and slippers on the other side, his huge grin visible even in the predawn light.

Nate glanced up at Lauren's house, taking in the still-dark windows. ”Does your mum know you're up and about at this unholy hour?”

Drew shook his head and tugged on his hand. ”Come on, Nate!”

He chuckled. ”What's the hurry?”

A forlorn sigh. ”Santa's left presents under the tree, but Mummy said no presents until we've had breakfast, and I can't reach the wheat biscuits.”

”Ah.” He sc.r.a.ped fingers through a severe case of bed hair. ”Guess I could help you out. Just let me get something.”

Nate retraced his steps to the futon and dragged a bag out from underneath.

Drew pointed to the colorfully wrapped object poking out. ”What's that?”

”It's a gift for your mum.”

”Oh.” He arched his neck to peep into the bag. ”There's only one present.”

Drew's hopeful expression would've been funny, if it hadn't been a painful reminder of his own childhood, spent wis.h.i.+ng for traditions and the little luxuries that were out of the question in most countries his parents served in. He ruffled Drew's soft hair and waited for his natural curiosity to overcome his manners. The little boy stuck his hands behind his back and kept his lips pressed together.

He'd only meant to tease, but silence from a kid who shouldn't think twice about asking for his share caused the combination lock guarding the vault of his heart to click one notch closer to opening.

”I put one for you under the tree before I went to bed.”

”You did?” A shy smile lit up his face.

”Sure. We're mates, aren't we?”

Drew nodded slowly.

Nate extended his hand. ”C'mon, then. Let's go up before your mum discovers you're gone and flips out.”

The smell of bacon frying and Drew's chatter drifting upstairs woke Lauren from a deathlike sleep.

Drew? Cooking? She was halfway to her bedroom door before her brain kicked into gear and started reasoning. Drew couldn't reach the cast iron skillet or the box of matches needed to light the gas element. So someone must be with him.

She paused and c.o.c.ked her head.

A chuckle rumbled up, followed by a deep voice saying, ”How many eggs do you think you can eat?”

Nate's presence with her son should've calmed her erratic heartbeat. It didn't. They'd kept a respectful distance apart after their beach encounter, and the flurry of work before Christmas also served as a distraction. But seeing him, talking with him each evening, even sniffing his d.a.m.n shower gel just to catch a whiff of his scent, drove her nuts.

Lauren pulled on shorts and a blouse and hurried downstairs. Dawn lightened the family room through the French doors, the first rays of sunlight sparkling on Drew's glitter-dusted and slightly lopsided tree decorations. She turned on the fairy lights and wrapped her arms around her waist, staring at the gifts beneath the branches. Sniffing the fresh, clean scent of pinesap, she blinked when the colored lights distorted to a soft blur. She wasn't going to get weepy on this, their first real Christmas together.

A year ago she'd ignored the holidays until Todd practically kidnapped the two of them and dragged them back to his house. Surrounded by Kathy's sisters and their husbands and kids, Lauren, thrust into the center of bedlam, had found whnau. Family.

”Mummy, Mummy, you're finally up.” Drew launched himself at her legs, sighing with great drama. ”I've been making us breakfast for ages.”

”Oh, have you? Well, it smells wonderful.”

She brushed away the slight wetness under her eyes and allowed Drew to tow her through the archway into the kitchen.

With his back to her, Nate flipped a bacon rasher. Once again, he'd tied her pink ap.r.o.n around his waist, but nothing distracted her from his broad shoulders flexing beneath a black tee s.h.i.+rt and a superb ”I wanna take a bite outta it” b.u.t.t in faded denim. Saliva pooled in her mouth, and she couldn't just blame it on the crispy bacon.

Heck of a s.e.xy thing, watching a man make breakfast.

”I thought you couldn't cook?”

He looked over his shoulder, and the smile curving his lips hooked her heart straight into her throat.

”Hey, sleepyhead,” he said. ”Merry Christmas to you, too.”

She stared, her tongue gluing fast to the roof of her mouth before she peeled it away and replied, ”Merry Christmas.”

”Nate knows how to cook. He made monkey-roni, remember?”

Lauren glanced down at her son's earnest expression. Yeah, she remembered. She remembered the tightness that constricted her chest watching helplessly as Nate took over her kitchen, strong-arming his way into her life. She remembered too the inexplicable flicker of s.e.xual awareness that'd burgeoned into something else. Something she didn't dare examine.

Urging a light tone into her voice, she said, ”Ah, yes. The memorable monkey-roni.”

”I'm redeeming myself with bacon and eggs.” Nate opened the oven door and transferred the cooked bacon to a waiting platter. ”Even I can cook the basics.”

”Another skill set I was unaware of.”

He half turned toward her, waggled his eyebrows and drawled, ”Lady, I've got many skills you're unaware of.”

While she laughed and strolled into the kitchen to the flatware drawer, a s.h.i.+ver swept down her body, tightening her nipples, sending warmth purling through her core. She couldn't get the image of him, the visceral memory of his rough hands caressing her skin, out of her mind.

She kept her back to him and plucked knives and forks from the drawer. ”Let's hope you do eggs better than you do a cheese sauce.”