My father threw the ham at me.
Not on purpose of course, but intention didn’t matter much when I was staring down at the splatter of carcass fluids on my breasts, dress, and feet.
One second he was raising it from the counter, and the next he was tripping and launching it at me. It’d barely touched the ground before he was kneeling, grabbing the greasy—probably still delicious—bundle, and turning it like it needed to be checked for injuries.
I hadn’t moved a muscle, my arms still splayed out on either side of me. I was trying to decide if I should be offended by the outrageous cackling and snorts coming from my audience or laugh along with them.
My dad glanced from me to the ham, back to me. “Ten-second rule, right?”
Someone choked, and I looked over to see Layla fanning her face, wine dripping from her nose as my mother lurched across the table for a napkin.
Behind them, through the opening between my parents’ kitchen and the living room, I could make out my brother and Jamie hunched over controllers, arguing over a game and completely unaware of what was happening.
Dropping my arms, I exhaled, blowing out my cheeks. I side-stepped over the sticky mess left on the floor and headed to the roll of paper towels on the counter.
“Don’t worry, everyone, I’m fine. My boobs are still intact, and my dress is only semi-ruined, but I appreciate all the concern.”
I yanked a few sheets loose, patting them over my chest, trying to do what I could with what I had. I couldn’t be too mad about it; I would’ve laughed too. However, this dress really was one of my favorites, so I hoped it’d at least wash out.
“You know, if you wanted meat thrown at your breasts, you could have asked.” The words were whispered over my shoulder from lips hovering a hair’s breadth above my ear. It sent a shudder through me, and I couldn’t help but arch my neck slightly even as I laughed.
“For shame, Garrett Rowe, we’re at a holiday dinner.”
“We could always leave, and I’d give you a different dinner.” His hand slid between us, and I barely held in my yelp when he pinched my ass.
I reached back, whacking him on the thigh. “If you can’t behave, I’ll send you home without any dinner at all.”
“As long as I get dessert when you get there.” He leaned down, stealing my laughter with a searing kiss before sauntering off to help my dad do who knows what with the rogue ham.
I cleared my throat, smoothing down the skirt of my dress and twisting around. Both Layla and my mother were watching me, amused smiles on their faces, and I was an instant tomato.
Ignoring them, I busied myself with finishing the last of the prep work to set the table, desperately hoping Garrett kept all his dirty jokes to himself during dinner.
Garrett and I had been seeing each other for a month now, but we’d agreed not to be anything official. We just saw each other almost every day, and on days I worked too much, he’d hang out with Jamie instead.
The longest we’d spent apart was the week he flew to California with Sarah and Harry to spend Thanksgiving with his mother. He’d invited Jamie and me to join, but I’d already promised Jim I’d work the holiday guard shift and had to decline. I regretted it every day he was gone.
But still, we’d agreed to no label, no serious commitment. Sure, he’d stared down Michael when the poor man had tried to catch me alone to talk. And sure, I was pretty positive I’d cut the tongue out of any woman who tried to hit on him, but regardless. We definitely weren’t official.
I hadn’t told him I loved him yet, even though the words hovered over my mouth every time I looked at him, and he hadn’t repeated the sentiment to me since the first time. Even so, I doted on him every chance I got, and he fucked me like no one’s business behind closed doors.
Not official…at all.
Garrett was careful what he said and did around Jamie, but he considered me fair game in front of anyone else. It was after he’d set me on his lap and curled his body around me to block the wind during Jamie’s last game that my parents had invited him to spend the holiday with us this year.
Fine…we might have been a tiny bit official.
Dinner had gone much better than the prep had. No one threw anything, nor did Garrett make any more comments for my mother and Layla to swoon over.
Luckily for me, they hadn’t been able to see the hand he’d kept on my thigh almost the entire meal.
My brother and Garrett had hit it off quickly. The three-and-a-half men spent a good portion of the evening talking video games and new releases while us ladies indulged in a healthy amount of wine. It’d been one of the best evenings I’d ever had, ham stain and all.
We’d just finished cleaning up and dishing leftovers in to-go containers for everyone when I slipped away to the bathroom. I hadn’t looked in a mirror since I left my house, and I had a feeling, between the wine and how often Garrett played with my curls, I probably looked a mess.
I stepped in, but barely finished turning the knob when the door swung back open, nearly taking me with it. I darted back, making room for the bulk slipping through.
He leaned against the door, shutting it behind him, and smirking at me all the while. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
“Fancy meeting you here.”
“You almost hit me in the face.”
He dragged me forward against his body, his hands sliding down my ass as his eyes sparked with a mischievous glint.
“On a scale from one to ten, how romantic would it be if I told you I wanted to whisk you away for the night?”
I cocked my head to the side, scrunching my face. “A four, given we can’t do that, so you’d only be teasing me.”
“What if I told you your parents asked me if they could have Jamie tonight to watch some Christmas movie that’s on TV?”
My heart picked up, my pulse thrumming beneath my skin. They’d asked him instead of me for permission, as if they saw us as equal partners. As if they knew I trusted him to answer on my behalf.
“What if I want to watch the movie too?”
“We can do whatever you want, baby. But I was thinking we could swing by a coffee stand for hot chocolate and then drive through the ritzy neighborhoods to look at Christmas lights.”
There was a kaleidoscope of butterflies inside of me. I might have floated to the ceiling if he hadn’t had such a firm hold on my rear. “And after that?”
“I’ll take you back to my side and make love to you as many times as needed to have you drenched and blissfully sated.” His hands tightened, and then he was lifting me and setting me on the counter, my legs instinctively wrapping around him.
He stood pressed against my center, his large hands resting on my thighs. “Then after all of that, I’ll revert to my stalker-like tendencies and watch you sleep while you’re curled into me emitting those sweet, happy sighs I love.”
My hand drifted between us, and I rubbed the heel of my palm along the erect length straining against his jeans. “What if I need something a little rougher to feel blissfully sated?”
“Then I’ll shove your panties in your mouth to keep you from waking Layla next door and fuck you into oblivion anywhere and everywhere you want.”
I might as well have been the sixth Great Lake with how my body reacted. His words brought back a slew of images that were best not remembered at a family gathering, but my mind latched onto them with filthy glee anyway.
Turned out, Garrett had a thing for sinking his fingers into me elsewhere while he fucked me from behind. The act would send him into a desperate frenzy, and he’d pound into me so violently I was pretty sure I’d learned a new language. By the devilish gleam in his eyes, I had a feeling it might be more than his fingers fucking me there tonight.
I squeezed my thighs around his waist, wishing we were already home. Snaking my fingers around his head, I brought his face down to me and demanded his lips. He readily obliged.
When we finally broke apart, it was only far enough for me to utter, “Nine,” against his mouth.
He chuckled, letting his hands wander up my sides. “Damn, still only a nine? What would make it a ten?”
“Tell me you love me again.”
His hands continued sliding over my ribs, and he smiled against me. “That’s easy then. I love you, fuzzy socks and all.”
My reply poured straight from my chest, no nerves, no second-guessing, no over-thinking. No wall. He was mine. And I’d only ever be his. “I love you, too.”
His head reared back, and his hands shot up to grip my face and tip it. His chest rose and fell heavily against me, and his eyes were two glittering hazel pools.
“Say it again.”
“I love you, Garrett Rowe.”
He crashed his mouth to mine, sealing my words between us like he needed to taste them on his tongue. He spoke in between kisses, “Home first, then Christmas lights.”
I giggled, pushing him back. “We both know we’ll never get back out to view lights if we go home first.”
Home. Because that’s what it was, our home. Our belongings might have been separated by a wall, but it was only a wall. We’d yet to let those stand in the way.
“Fucking hell,” he groaned, helping me off the counter and readjusting himself. He looked mildly in pain as he set his hand on the doorknob. “Meet me at my car in five minutes, or I’m coming to find you.”
“Promise?”
He smirked. “Countdown’s already started, little mama. I suggest you run.”
I’ve never moved faster.
