Mistletoe Baby (Crescent Cove 9.50)

She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear then turned over the box. The rattle inside made her laugh. “Presents for us, indeed.” She loosened the bow and laughed again. “Ribbed for her pleasure, at least.”

“Bonus points to Sage.”

“Do I want to know?”

I grinned. “Uh, probably not.”

The echo of Sage’s warning about the baby boom in town should have tempered my lust, but it seemed to only get me more excited to break into the box.

After a Snickers bar.

I grabbed the candy bar and broke it in half then offered her the still-wrapped portion.

She took it, trading it for the box of condoms.

I set the box on the bedside table before sitting beside her. “Stay tonight.”

She looked down at her candy and fiddled with the wrapper. “I really shouldn’t.”

“We’ve already taken the plunge. No going back now.”

The corner of her mouth tipped up. “That’s true.” She took a bite of the candy and peeked around me. “Are those potato chips?”

“Why, yes, they are.”

“Gimme.”

I grinned and handed them over. “So, that means I can have the Doritos?”

“Maybe. Only if you brush your teeth.”

I leaned in and nipped a kiss before she could pop a chip in her mouth. “Deal.”

I stood and went to my new suitcase and pulled out a vintage concert T-shirt for her. She took it gratefully and pulled it on.

I picked up three different bottles of soda. “I wasn’t sure of your—okay, Dr. Pepper it is.”

She cracked the seal. “I pretty much drink coffee or Diet Coke but since it’s here.” She took a long swallow and sighed. “My mom loved this stuff. I used to scrape together tip money for her twelve-pack cans. Sometimes I’d sneak a can for myself.”

Scraped?

I had so many questions. Little slips from her about a less than stellar childhood made me ache for her. My household growing up had been noisy and full of laughter. A lot of fighting too. Far too many boys in one house meant a lot of strife in between pranks and enough laundry to ensure my mom taught me to be self-sufficient from an early age.

But being self-sufficient was a big difference from what she was talking about.

She popped another chip in her mouth with a sigh. “Didn’t realize I was so hungry.”

“We sort of skipped dinner.”

She peered into the snack-sized bag. “Not a big deal.”

Now I felt like an asshole. I hadn’t even fed her, for God’s sake. We’d been wrapped up in each other and caught up in the push and pull of attraction. Food definitely hadn’t been at the top of my menu. “Is that diner near the park an all-night kind of deal?”

“Normally, but with the festival, not so much.”

“Ahh.”

“Don’t worry about feeding me, Callum. I’m more of a small meals and snacks kind of woman. When you work as many jobs as I have, snagging food between shifts is the norm.”