Secret Santa 4U (10 page)

A few moments later, wh
en the world righted itself, she stroked his head as he kissed her thighs.
“
Damn, Brody,
”
she said, breathlessly.
“
You
’
re addictive.
”

****

Sophie awoke the next morning to the familiar banging of the heater in the hallway.
She sat up and wiped her sleepy e
yes.
What time was it?
She glanced at the clock perched above the dying fire on the mantel and saw it was a little past nine in the morning.
The room was still comfortable thanks to the heat being restored and the heavy quilts over her.
She grinned and loo
ked over her shoulder at the man spooning her.
And good old body warmth, she added silently.
Slowly, she turned toward Brody and snuggled beneath his chin.

Groggy, he pulled her closer and held her against him.
“
Morning,
”
he said, his voice low and scratch
y from sleep.

He sounded incredibly sexy.
“
Morning,
”
she repeated, burrowing against him and resting her cheek on his shoulder.
“
You hungry?
”

“
Always, baby
.
”
His hand drifted down to the curve of her hip and squeezed.

She laughed and covered his hand with
hers.
“
I mean for breakfast.
”

Brody nuzzled her neck.
“
You
’
re tastier.
”

Warm tingles shot through her as her body reacted to his touch.
“
Man
—
and woman
—
cannot live on sex alone.
”

He lifted his head and looked at her.
“
Says who?
”

She shrugged.
“
I can
’
t remem
ber.
But I
’
m sure it was someone famous.
”

Grinning, he let her sit up.
“
It
musta been someone who never got laid.
”

“
Come and help me fix something in the kitchen.
”

He was up in two seconds.
“
You got it, as long as you cook in the nude.
”

She grabbed
his
dis
carded T-shirt he
’
d thrown over the recliner and
slipped
it on.
“
No way.
I
’
m going to cook some bacon.
That
’
s not a job for a naked woman
—
or man.
”

“
Ouch.
No shit
.
”
H
e
threw
his
jeans
on.

As the scrambled eggs cooked on the stove, Sophie decided to broach t
he subject she
’
d been putting off all last night.
She held the spatula up between them, as if it would distance them somehow.
“
Brody, I
…
”
She
cleared her throat.
“
I don
’
t know what to do about us.
I mean, we had fun, but
—
”

“
Ah, damn it, Soph.
”
Brody leaned
against the counter and crossed his arms over his naked chest.
“
Why
does there have to be a
but
?
What we have is good.
Quit trying to dissect it and make it out to be some sort of problem you need to fix.
”

She waved the spatula in the air.
“
Yes, but
—
”

“
No
buts, Sophie.
There
’
s nothing wrong with the two of us having a relationship.
”

S
he turned off the
flame
beneath the eggs.
“
A relationship?
Is that what you want?
”
Funny, she hadn
’
t figured that was something he was actively looking for.

He pushed away fro
m the counter and walked
the short distance to her.
“
Hell yeah.
I
’
d
love it.
”
He held her shoulders.
“
Is
it
something you
’
d be interested in?
”

She shook her head.
“
I…
never really thought about it.
”
She looked up into his eyes.
“
Brody, I never expected this
—
you and me
—
to happen.
This is really moving in fast forward for me.
”

“
I
’
ll back off
, Soph
.
I don
’
t want to scare you away.
”
He kissed her temple softly.
“
No
t
when I
’
ve finally got
ten
you to notice me.
”

“
Oh
,
you got
me to do a lot more than notice you.
”

“
S
eriously, Sophie.
I want a relationship with you
—
have wanted one since I met you two years ago.
But I don
’
t want you to think I
’
m pushing you into something you
’
re not ready for.
”
He scoffed.
“
And I sure as hell don
’
t want to come off as a desperate nerd m
ooning after you.
”
Rubbing his
chin thoughtfully
,
he conceded,
“
A
lthough
, I am a nerd
,
and I
’
m definitely mooning after you.
So scratch that.
”

She couldn
’
t help the smile that tugged at her lips.
“
You
’
re not a nerd.
”

“
Sophie.
I live, breathe and dream abou
t computers.
”
He raised an eyebrow.
“
I
’
m a card-carrying nerd.
”

Well
,
if that were the case, he was the sexiest nerd she
’
d ever seen.
Or slept with.
That last thought caused her mood to grow serious again.
“
But Brody
, h
ow are you going to explain this to y
our friends?
Our families?
”

He looked genuinely puzzled.
“
Damn it, woman.
It
’
s no one else
’
s business.
Besides, there
’
s only
what…
eight years difference between us?
That
’
s nothing.
Look at
Harrison and Calista or Michael Douglas and Catherine Zeta Jones
,
for c
hrissakes.
No one ever says anything about an older man and a younger woman, do they?
”

“
You don
’
t get it.
I sure as hell don
’
t want to be some Mrs. Robinson.
”

He shook his head, the reference lost on him.

“
From
The Graduate
?
The classic tale about a y
oung man who
’
s seduced by his friend
’
s mother
?
”

He shook his head and shrugged.
“
Not ringing any bells
.
”

“
See?
We
’
re from two different worlds, Brody.
This
’
ll
never work.
”

Brody frowned.
“
B
ecause I don
’
t know some reference to some
old movie
?
That
’
s bullsh
it.
”

She pushed at him.
“
It
’
s not just that.
It
’
s everything.
Our ages, our occupations, our hopes and dreams
—
”

“
That
’
s
a lame cop-out
.
You
’
re inventing problems
,
and that
’
s
completely
unfair.
If you
’
re too chicken
shit to leap into this with me, just say
so.
Don
’
t hide behind
something as asinine as our a
ges and jobs and whatever else
you can pull out of thin air.
I like you.
I
’
ve liked you for years.
And now, I
’
d like more.
But if you don
’
t want that, you need to tell me now.
Because I don
’
t want us to ge
t into a relationship only to have you talk yourself out of it for some idiotic reason later.
”

“
Well, h
ow nice that you put it that way,
”
she
mocked.

Without warning, he lifted her up and set her on the countertop.

“
What are you doing?
”
she demanded, holdi
ng onto his biceps for balance.
“
Let me down.
”

Still holding her waist, he
slid between her thighs
.
“
I
’
m not going to let you down
until you tell me
—
what
’
s
so bad
about
us having some sort of relationship beyond friendship.
”

She took a deep breath and
coun
ted silently to ten as she
let it out.
She might as well
‘
fess up.
“
Fine, Brody.
I
’
m scared.
How
’
s that for a chicken shit answer?
”

He leaned back to look her in the eye.
“
Scared of what?
Me?
”

“
No, no.
Not you.
”
She rubbed his forearm
tenderly, her thumb s
wirling the dark hairs there
.
“
It is the age thing.
I
’
m afraid you
’
ll find someone younger, hipper and more interesting down the road
,
and I
’
ll be left with
nothing but
a broken heart.
”
There.
She
’
d said it.
Aloud.