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A short burst of laughter erupted from my chest. I grabbed her fork, setting it on the table near her plate as I stood. Still bent over, I let my face come close to hers.
Close, but not touching.
No matter how badly I wanted to press a kiss to her head.
“Eat up, little hellion. I’ll start cleaning up. Again.”
“Psh. Cleaning is overrated.” She edged back, giving me a look at her pretty ocean eyes. At her cute little button nose. At the perfect bow of her lips.
“But someone’s gotta do it.” I grabbed my plate and took it to the sink. By the time I’d filled it with soapy water, Kelly was beside me, nudging me out of the way with her hip as she reached into the water and started scrubbing her plate.
“You don’t have to do that.”
She didn’t bother looking up at me. “Don’t want you thinking I’m ungrateful.” If it weren’t for the crooked hook of her lips, I would have stopped her. Made sure she knew I would never, ever think that.
Instead, I shook my head, reaching into the sudsy water and grabbing the sponge. Together, we cleaned the dishes. Afterward, I grabbed my laptop and the files I needed to look through and followed her to the couch.
“Movie?” she asked, some of that mischief glowing in her eyes.
“What do you have in mind?”
“Devil Wears Prada.”
“Again?”
She huffed out a breath. “Like there’s anything better than that.”
“Die Hard.”
“Psh.” She shook her head. “I don’t do Christmas movies.”
“Die Hard isn’t a Christmas mov—”
“Die Hard is most definitely a Christmas movie. Are you kidding me right now?”
“I don’t believe you.”
“He doesn’t believe me,” she mumbled under her breath. “Of course. Why would he believe me? It’s like I’m never right.”
“Eggs.”
“Don’t!” She pointed her finger at me, but her smile… I couldn’t take it, how beautiful it was. How it warmed me from the inside out.
I smiled back. “Prove it.”
“Prove what? That it’s a Christmas movie?” She grabbed the remote, pulling up the list of movies we wanted to watch that we’d made earlier in the week. “Fine, old man. I’ll prove it.”
After I settled myself on the floor where I always sat, Kelly tossed the remote on the table and settled against the back of the couch.
But not where she usually did.
She wasn’t in the far corner. She wasn’t in the middle of that far cushion, where she’d sat the past few days.
She sat in the middle, her legs pulled up under her, so close to me I could feel the heat from her body near my shoulder. I could smell her clean scent, and I was lost in it even as the movie began.
“See?” She pointed at the screen, drawing my attention away from her and back to the movie I was supposed to be watching. But not enough. Not when her hand landed on my shoulder.
The first time she’d willingly touched me first.
