by Joan Hohl
“Go out to eat on Memorial Day?” Karen widened her eyes in feigned shock. “Why—why, that’s positively un-American!”
“Yeah, right.” Paul said, imitating Rand’s tone perfectly.
Karen’s joyous laughter rang out again. “God, I love you, Paul!” she gasped.
Catching her by the waist, Paul swung her into the air, then pulled her into his arms when he set her down again. “You know what? I love you, too.”
“Are you two gonna spend the whole holiday making mush or are we gonna eat sometime soon?” Rand groused as he stomped through the sand toward them.
“Yeah, anyway, I’m hungry,” Mark seconded, trailing his idol.
“Yeah, anyway,” Paul mimicked, bending to drop a swift kiss on Karen’s mouth. “Okay, you win. I’ll cook.” He stole another kiss before glancing at the boys. “But you kids can haul the food and assorted necessities out to the grill. Hop to it!”
With cries of “Yes, sir” and “You got it,” the boys sprinted toward the house.
Returning his undivided attention to Karen, Paul smiled in satisfaction. A shiver tiptoed down her spine at the gleam that sprang into his eyes.
“Paul,” she laughed, “are you thinking what I think you’re thinking?”
“What else?” He laughed with her. “And if we were alone...” His voice trailed off suggestively.
“But we’re not,” she reminded him, surging up to give him a quick kiss.
Paul’s hand snaked up to grasp her hair, holding her still for a soul-stirring kiss. “I can wait,” he murmured against her lips, laughing softly as she shivered in response. He kissed her again, deeply this time. When he lifted his head, his expression was somber, almost reverent. “As long as I know you’re here, mine, only mine, I can wait.” Working his free hand between them, he placed his palm on her gently rounded belly. “We have our entire future before us. Anticipation will sweeten our private moments together.”
Table of Contents
Chapter Four
Chapter Eight
Chapter Eleven