Christmas Therapy

Allen blinked. Those days were over. He could start over. Was Heather someone he could build a new life with? Feelings faded. Would they stay after the bliss wore off?

***

Heather settled onto her barstool. She rubbed her forehead to relieve her light-headedness. Allen's ex didn't want children. His marriage left him broken, but he was here.

He wasn’t running away. She exhaled. Kisses meant nothing, because intimacy was another level. Their lives were coming together in more ways than one.

Placing the dough on the counter, she used the flour and the rolling pin. She flattened the dough as she bit her lower lip. Her feelings were taking over. What if this didn't work out? She shut her eyes for a moment. That would mean saying goodbye, and she couldn't stand that thought with Allen.

Heather blinked. She could enjoy the evening without her fears taking over. She blew out a long breath. As she used the cookie cutter, she placed them on her cookie sheet. She rolled the dough again, repeating the action.

“They look good,” Allen said from behind her.

“Is Gabby okay?” She avoided eye contact.

“I put her back in her car seat so she’s sleeping fine.” He leaned closer, resting his cheek on her temple. “Some date night, huh?”

“This was a date?” She rolled the dough adding flour as she went. “I thought you were helping me with dessert.”

He chuckled as he placed his hands on top of hers. Heather froze for a moment, the heat from his hands seeping into her skin. She swallowed, and they rolled the dough together. Heather’s insides trembled, but she remained steady on her feet.

“I thought you were helping me to impress your mom,” he said.

“You don’t need to impress her. She’s already on your side.”

“Your sister?”

“She is too.”

“So it’s three against one?” he asked.

She leaned into his chest. “I think you’re doing a good job of winning me over.” He was.

“I hope so.” He dipped his mouth towards hers, but Gabriela’s whimpering disturbed them. Allen left to check on her.

The heat from his chest crept up her back. Heather then put the gingerbread in the oven. Allen returned.

“Is she okay?” Heather asked.

“She went back to sleep,” he said.

Heather rubbed at her eyebrow. “Are you sure you’re comfortable coming to my family’s house for dinner? I don’t want to rush things.”

“I’ll be fine. Like you said, they like me already.” He walked closer and embraced her waist.

“I like your confidence.” She rested her hands on his shoulders.

His eyebrows etched together. “Are you okay? How’s your knee?”

“I'm okay.”

“Good,” he said. He leaned in once more to kiss her. She pressed her hands into his chest and her brain felt slushy. Why did his touch make her insides shiver? Allen cupped her cheek, allowing his fingers to graze against her jawline and neck.

Her fingers traveled to his neck, teasing him at the nape. He held her closer as her lips meshed with his. Heather's heart raced. This man was in her system.

She exhaled. “We're supposed to be baking.”

“We are?” He kissed the corner of her mouth.