The logs crackled in the fire, adding a faint aroma of wood smoke along with a blast of warm air to the great room of the cabin. Bottles of red wine, white wine and whiskey sat out on the long table with glasses.
Yes, he’d done all that for Eva. Would he ever admit that to her? Hell no. He’d just say he decided—while he was at the store replenishing everything Emmett had consumed during his short visit—to get a jumpstart on the Yule Log party if she asked when she got home tonight.
Home.
His heart fluttered at the thought of Eva’s home being his home—for the time being.
Of all the bad things that Emmett’s return had caused, Eva moving in—for now—was one of the good things. Word from the main house, meaning Wyatt, was that Eva was visiting with Poppy and Olivia and as requested he’d given her a key.
It seemed ridiculous—it was such a small thing—but a smile crept onto his face at the thought of her having a key to his place. And it wasn’t just because he really hoped they’d end up in bed. He liked having her around. As much as he disliked having Emmett there.
A rattling of the doorknob had his gaze flying to the entrance. Trying to look nonchalant and like he hadn’t been sitting there waiting for her to get home, he propped his elbow on the arm of the chair, picked up his bottle of beer and pretended to be staring into the fire.
He felt like an idiot being nervous. He just hoped he didn’t look like one too.
When the door opened and closed again, he swiveled his head to glance at the doorway. “Oh, hey, you’re here. I see you got the key.”
She scowled in his direction. “Yeah. About that. Did you really have to have Wyatt parade the key into the bedroom on a silver platter like the Christmas goose and present it to me, in front of Olivia and Poppy, like it’s a big deal? Now they think there’s something going on between us.”
“There is,” he reminded her.
“There was once.”
“Twice,” he corrected earning him a glare.
“That doesn’t mean I want my love life on parade in front of my friends and it also doesn’t mean it will ever happen again. Don’t think because I’m in your house, staying in your guest room, means that I’m at your beck and call for sex.”
The more she ranted, the harder he got. God, he loved when she gave him attitude. “I never would have assumed that.” Hoped. But not assumed.
“Good. I just want that clear,” she said, glancing at him over her shoulder as she dumped her bag by the door.
“Very clear.” He nodded, trying not to smile. “Did you eat?”
Hanging her coat on the hook, she nodded. “Poppy made a box of macaroni and cheese for Darcy and I ate the leftovers.”
He shook his head, giving up on not smiling at that image. “You eat like a child.”
“There is nothing wrong with boxed macaroni and cheese. It’s good.”
“Okay.” He nodded. He’d eaten worse in the service so he wasn’t going to argue. “I went shopping and picked up some wine. It’s on the table. I’m not sure which goes best with boxed mac and cheese. Red or white?”
“Ha-ha.” She narrowed her gaze at him, making her way to the fire where she held her hands out toward the opening to warm up.
“But seriously, help yourself. Open anything you want.”
“Mm.” Her non-answer didn’t give him much to go on. Then she spun back to face him. “Let’s go to bed.”
There were way too many things to be unpacked in that deceivingly simple four-word sentence. Starting with the word let’s, as in them together? And since it was barely seven-thirty, she couldn’t be tired so she had to mean go to bed to have sex. Right?
He wasn’t sure of anything but he knew one thing, the correct response to her statement was, “Okay.”
He’d let her lead. He’d follow. If she went into his room, they’d be golden. He’d know exactly what she wanted.
If she went into her own room, that would be a little more tricky. What would he do then? Hang around in the hallway waiting for an invitation? Walk in and wait for her to yell at him or not?
Women were hard. And this woman was particularly difficult. Like she had to be in the top one percent of confusing females in the world.
“Wait.” She held up one finger. “Answer me this. Yes or no. If your father called that vote on Emmett today, which way would you vote?”
Where had this come from? He didn’t know but he was sure of his answer. “No.”
“No doubts?”
“Fuck no.”
“Okay.” She nodded. “Come on.”
He scurried to make sure the screen across the fireplace was secure, flipped the deadbolt on the front door and turned off most of the lights downstairs, all as fast as he could. He wasn’t about to make this woman wait.
When he turned back to face the staircase, the glow of the Christmas lights that they’d wound throughout the greens on the banister lit her features as she ascended. She glanced back to see if he was coming, and the light danced in her eyes.
That was when he knew for certain—he was falling for this woman.
This cranky, contrary, stubborn, possibly criminal woman was the only one he wanted in his home, in his bed, in his life.
And she’d better want him back.
Following her up, he supposed he’d find out one way or another soon enough.