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"Speaking of which, do you want to help me make Watergate Salad?" Jewell asked him, spelling out the recipe name.
Amusement twinkled in his eyes. He chuckled softly. "What is Watergate Salad?"
Jewell stood up and held her hand out to him. Ruby mumbled something about seeing them the next day. Since Benjamin had accepted their mother's invitation to dinner, they planned on driving up together, so Ruby was taking Jewell's car to Manchester that night. She also said something about leaving them alone so they could make out all they wanted. With relief that Benjamin couldn't hear Ruby's comments, Jewell told her sister to wear a warm jacket and let her go.
"Yes, Mother," Ruby said with a warm smile as she headed for the door. Jewell grinned and blew her little sister a kiss before she disappeared.
Benjamin followed her into the kitchen and Jewell tossed a bag of mini marshmallows at him, which he caught against his chest as she opened the refrigerator to retrieve a container of whipped topping. Setting the tub beside the marshmallows where he'd set them, she bounced up on the counter, crossing her ankles. From her perch, she took a large glass bowl from a cabinet and added it to the growing pile of ingredients. Without getting down, she opened a cabinet door and retrieved canned pineapple, walnuts, maraschino cherries, and pistachio pudding mix. Under her instruction, Benjamin strained, dumped, and poured the individual items into the bowl.
Jewell found it surprisingly amusing to watch him make such a mundane dessert as Watergate Salad. She'd watched him work in the kitchen, but that was creating succulent meals with elaborate preparations. There was nothing fancy or posh about the simple dish, but it was a staple at every holiday meal in the Kincaid house. There he stood, in his Giorgio Armani suit pants and Calvin Klein dress shirt, plopping non-dairy whipped topping into a mixing bowl. Never had a man looked so sexy. Benjamin Prescott Roth was the white-collar version of small apartment domestication.
She snatched a cherry from the jar before he had a chance to empty it into the bowl. Benjamin tapped her hand in mock punishment. "You're as bad as Victoria," he teased and scooped the pale green mixture on his finger and smeared it on the end of her nose.
"Don't be fresh," she ordered and snagged a dish towel to clean her face.
Jewell fully enjoyed her position of power. With her ankles crossed and her feet swinging in the air, she pointed to the drawer where she kept the plastic wrap. Benjamin obediently tore off a sheet and smoothed it over the bowl. She laughed when it took three attempts to get the clingy cover in place properly. Benjamin and plastic cling wrap were not well acquainted. He opened the refrigerator and set the salad on an empty shelf.
"You just made Watergate Salad. Aren't you proud of yourself?"
Benjamin smiled widely and genuinely. "Exceptionally proud. Do I get the credit with your mother for making it?"
"Oh, no, I think this was a team effort."
"Yes, you gave orders and I followed them."
Jewell snapped the corner of the towel at him. "Precisely."
He grabbed the dishtowel out of her hand. Before he could return the favor, Jewell grabbed his open collar and pulled him to her. He didn't argue but tossed the towel aside, his gaze never leaving her face. With a sexy leer, he nudged her ankles apart and stepped between her knees so they bracketed his hips. He set his hands at her knees and slid his palms up her thighs, nudging her skirt hem a little higher. Jewell slid her hand inside his open collar to the back of his neck, teasing the edges of his soft hair at the nape of his neck.
Benjamin drew in a long breath and gripped her hips, shifting her a little closer, before skimming his fingertips up her side, eliciting a shiver from her at the touch. "How did I get here?" he asked, holding her jaw in his warm hands.
Jewell smiled and hooked her feet behind his legs. "Define here. I'm pretty sure you drove across town…"
He chuckled, stroking her lower lip with his thumb as she spoke. "I mean…here." He kissed her. "How did I earn you?"
Jewell didn't make the actual decision to release the buttons of his shirt and didn't realize she was doing it until she'd opened four of them and ran her hands over his chest. His heart pounded hard against her palm. "I'm pretty sure you stole me out from under the nose of Kevin Burke. A fact for which I've never properly thanked you."
Benjamin used the edge of his thumbs to urge her lips apart before he covered her mouth in an open kiss, his tongue sliding past her teeth to steal her breath. The pitch of the kiss went from sensual to intense in one breath, and Jewell let herself fall into it. He held her head captive, kissing her with such need it made her ache.
When she thought she might either faint from the lightheadedness his deep kisses caused, or spontaneously combust from the simmering heat beneath her skin, he moved from her lips to her jaw and further to her throat. Strong, long fingers curled into the bunched fabric of her skirt at her hip and he yanked her toward him, holding her hard against his waist. She ached, needed, and wanted all at the same time. So much so that she couldn't think beyond his touch and kiss.
Benjamin pulled back, his rapid breath bathing her face. "Jewell…" He punctuated her name with another brief but firm kiss. "I want to be with you."
A cold flush hit her in the center of her body, and flashed outward, making her breath catch. She set her hands at the edge of the counter, curling her fingers underneath to balance herself, and leveraged herself off the edge, her body pressing against his as she slid down to her feet. He pressed his lips together, heavy eyelids sliding over his brown eyes as a low rumble shifted through his chest. Waiting until he opened his eyes again and looked down at her, Jewell slid her hands into his, lacing her fingers between his, and stepped out of the space between them toward the kitchen door.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
"Would you care for some more turkey, Benjamin?"
He raised his hands, waving them in surrender before answering Jewell's mother. "Honestly, I couldn't eat another bite."
She smiled, the sweetest and most honest smile Benjamin had ever seen on a woman other than her daughter, and stood to stack dishes and take them away. Immediately, Benjamin and all the Kincaid children jumped to their feet, gathering plates and serving dishes still teeming with some of the most delicious food Benjamin had ever eaten. The house was filled with activity and aromas and life that nearly vibrated through him. Garnett had brought Jackie, whom Jewell described as Garnett's perpetual girlfriend. This was her third Thanksgiving with the family, and their mother was gently putting pressure on Garnett to finally propose.
Cecil's brother and wife were there, with their two grown children and spouses and four grandchildren. Another brother came alone, and Jewell had explained he had never married. Opal's sister, who was a widow, came alone. Her children had left New Hampshire when they married and now lived too far to come home for the holiday.
There were also some cousins, but after the tenth introduction, Benjamin had lost complete track of any names. Only a few knew sign language with a limited vocabulary, and Benjamin noted how the Kincaid children always made sure someone was near their mother to provide interpretation when needed. The home was warm, and not just from the fire burning in the parlor fireplace. He had felt just a fraction of the sensation when he'd come to peel apples and meet her family, now it was almost overwhelming.
"Do you do this every Thanksgiving?" he asked when the table had been cleared and the crowd had disbursed to various rooms throughout the first floor. Two of the cousins had stepped into the backyard to smoke cigarettes because while Cecil was free to smoke his pipe in the house, cigarettes were sanctioned to outside.
