Little did she know, his parents had gone to Chattanooga for a Christmas party. “They won’t be home for hours, so we can take this inside.”
“That’s a relief.”
“Don’t be too relieved.” He got out, intending to round the Yukon and help her down, but she met him at the rear of the vehicle, already holding their garment bag containing his suit and her dress for tomorrow night’s Christmas Eve dinner. “If we do everything I have in mind, you’re still going to end up on the naughty list.”
“The naughty list is more fun anyway.”
He lowered her rolling carry-on bag to the pavement and extended the handle, and then hefted his weekend bag onto his shoulder. “Okay then. Prepare to have a lot of fun.” With the warning hanging in the air, he walked toward the house.
Inside, they found a note from his mom listing everything edible in the house—because she always assumed he’d arrive home blind and starving—and promising a surprise downstairs. That worried him. The whole downstairs had been remodeled. Wasn’t that surprise enough?
“Oh, wow. This is nice,” Savannah said as they descended the basement stairs. He had to agree. The space he associated with linoleum floors and manufactured “wood” paneling now welcomed them with dark hardwood floors, a white slipcovered sectional positioned across from a flat screen, and smooth walls decorated with framed black-and-white photographs of local landmarks.
Savannah toed her shoes off and approached one of the pictures. “Who’s the photographer?”
“Dad.”
“He’s got a good eye.”
“I’ll tell him you said so.” He hauled their bags through a freshly painted six-paneled door and found the guest room, complete with a king-size bed, and an adjacent bath.
While he deposited their luggage next to a light blue upholstered wing chair, Savannah hung their garment bag in the small closet and then flopped backward onto the bed. The overstuffed down comforter accepted her weight with an airy puff and bounced the large, fabric-covered book someone had placed against the pillows. “They’ve turned their basement into heaven.”
“My version of heaven has full-height ceilings, and no risk of me knocking myself out on a doorway header.”
She moved the book to her lap and hurled a pillow at him. “Ceiling height wouldn’t be an issue if you were horizontal.”
He caught the pillow and tossed it back on the bed. The mattress squeaked as he braced himself over her on one hand and one knee. He would have lowered himself until he pinned her hips with his, but he noticed the book on her lap. “What is that?”
“I don’t know. It was on the bed.” Her lips tipped up in the off-center smile that always got him hard. “Maybe your parents left you a how-to manual?”
He dropped down beside her and flipped the book over. Someone—presumably his mom—had taped a small envelope to the front, with Savannah’s name inked across the white paper. “Yeah. That’s why your name is on it.”
“I love surprises.” She sat up and pulled the envelope off the book. A second later she unfolded a note card and read aloud. “‘Welcome to the family, Savannah. Love, Cheryl & Trent.’ Oh.” Her smile wavered. “They shouldn’t have.”
“Damn right they shouldn’t have.” She was still focused on the card, but he could see the front of the book now that the envelope was gone. Not a book at all—a photo album. And the photo positioned front and center on the cover? A fat, bald, bare-assed baby.
“Oh my God, is that you?”
He swiped the book from her lap. “No.”
The mattress squeaked again as she scrambled to her knees and faced him. “It is you.” She made a grab for the album. “And that’s mine.”
He held it out of her reach. “Possession is nine-tenths of the law.”
She very slowly, very deliberately slid her hand between his legs, cupped his balls through his jeans, and gave a menacing squeeze. “Drop the book or kiss ’em goodbye.”
A man h
ad his pride, and then he had his pride. He held out the book.
She nabbed it from his outstretched arm like a greedy child offered a favorite treat, and then rolled over on her stomach, propped the album against the headboard, and wiggled her hips to get comfy. “Look at you.” She gazed at the picture. “Same eyes. Same chin. Same adorable butt.”
He stretched out beside her and set about distracting her by nuzzling the side of her neck. “You know, if you’re hankering for gratuitous nudity, I’m right here. You don’t have to settle for a bunch of old pictures.”
She tipped her head to give him better access and flipped the book open. “I’m pretty sure I can have both.”
Damn. Time to up his game. He sneaked a hand under her skirt and stroked the smooth skin of her inner thigh. “How ’bout you close the book and focus on—”