Page 19 of Sweet Yuletide (Indigo Bay Christmas Romances #4)

“So far, it’s a tie between my cousin Elijah and my uncle Tim.

” Michael’s affectionate tone told her how much he cared for his extended family.

“One won a car playing slots in Atlantic City, and the other got to be on the sideline for the Panthers game, but there’s time before New Year’s for someone to pull ahead.

Most of the Pattersons are competitive, whereas most of the Evans family are go-with-the-flow types. ”

“I’m not sure how you keep everybody straight.”

“Once you reach a certain age, you learn to answer to hey, you .” His hand rested on her shoulder. He stiffened before moving his arm to his side.

“I’m sorry.” He sounded surprised and contrite. “I don’t know what I was—”

A noise blared.

Sheridan stiffened. It was coming from the kitchen. “The cookies.”

She bolted from the couch.

Smoke filled the air.

Michael opened windows and then turned off the smoke detector. “Are there flames?”

“Not that I can see.”

He put on a nearby oven mitt. “Stand back.”

Slowly, he opened the door. More smoke poured out. He removed the cookie tray and placed it on the stovetop. Each rectangle was black, scorched from baking much longer than needed.

She hung her head. “It’s my fault. I forgot to turn on the timer.”

“No. I’m the one who pulled you away before you could do that.”

“I should have remembered.”

He raised her chin with his finger. “Cookies aren’t something you can multitask.”

“I had the recipe from my mom, yet I ruined this tradition.”

“You were distracted,” he countered. “And so was I.”

“The TV…”

“It wasn’t the movie.”

Sheridan’s gaze met his, and her lips parted.

Before she could say anything, he kissed her.

It didn’t matter that smoke rose from the cookies and still hung in the air, and the smoke detector emitted a random beep.

The only thing that she cared about was his lips against hers.

She might care later. Who was she kidding?

She would, but at this moment, she wanted to enjoy the taste and feel of him.

His beard brushed against her chin. She wrapped her arms around his neck, weaving her fingers through his hair. As she moved her hands down his shoulders, her palms ran along the muscular ridges. He was solid and kissing her senseless. She wanted the kiss to keep going.

His arms circled Sheridan, pulling her against him. She went willingly, eager to be closer.

She may have ruined the cookies, but she was nailing their kiss and didn’t want it to end.

But then he eased away.

A whimper sounded. It had been her. That was enough to make her move back.

Sheridan glanced at the ceiling. The mistletoe was at least five feet from them.

He tucked strands of hair behind her ear. “I’ve wanted to do that since the art gallery.”

“Me, too, but you didn’t say anything.”

“Neither did you.” He laughed. “We’re a pair.”

She nodded. “We have to work on our cookie baking, but we’re not hopeless. We’ve got the kissing down.”

“We might need more practice.”

“There’s more cookie dough in the fridge.”

“I meant practice kissing.”

“Oh.”

He brushed his mouth over hers. “We’re also missing the rest of the movie.”

“Yes, but we’re living our own right here. No doubt, it’s destined to be a classic.”

Michael traced her lips with his fingertip. “Tell me more.”

“Two strangers in a charming small town for Christmas share a quaint beach cottage. They both want to get away and be alone for the holidays, but there’s nowhere else for one of them to stay.”

“That sounds vaguely familiar.”

Sheridan nodded. “At first, she thinks he’s nothing but a frat party guy.”

His eyes widened. “And he thinks she’s uptight and will be in his way all the time.”

She raised her chin. “Uptight?”

“Frat party guy?”

They both laughed.

Michael grinned. “She gets in the way, but he doesn’t mind.”

“He proves himself useful by helping her with a painting and suggests they celebrate Christmas.”

“She finds them a perfect tree.” He bit his lip. “And she makes him chicken.”

“He takes her into an art gallery and kisses her under the mistletoe.”

“But they haven’t rescued an animal or saved the town.”

“No, but they”—she glanced at the cookie sheet—“keep the cottage from burning down.”

“The movie is missing something.” Michael cupped her face and kissed her. “That’s better.”

“I’m sure we just exceeded the number of kisses for Hallmark.”

“Bring on Lifetime or Netflix,” he joked. “So, what happens next?”

She smiled, unsure of what was happening between them, but happy enough that she didn’t want to think about it right now. “We’ll have to wait and see.”

“I thought you might say something like that.” He opened the refrigerator and pulled out the rest of the cookie dough. “So, in the meantime, why don’t we make another batch of cookies? But this time, we’ll turn off the TV and remember to set the timer.”

That made her laugh. “Let’s stay right here to make sure these don’t burn.”

“And we can start a new tradition.”

She shot a glance at the mistletoe.

“I said a new one.” With a grin, he opened a cabinet and pulled out a bag of mini marshmallows. “Christmas hot cocoa.”

“Okay.” She would never say no to chocolate. “But what’s the difference between regular hot chocolate and Christmas hot cocoa?”

He tapped the tip of her nose. “Your frame of mind.”