Chapter Three

      “IF YOU’RE more into peanut butter, there’s always peanut-butter balls and homemade peanut brittle,” she rushed out, trying to redirect her mind away from the direction it was headed.

      Eyes wide, his gaze lifted to hers. He looked like an eager little boy. Like he’d looked that morning when he’d devoured her mouth.

      He placed his hand over his heart. “I’ve died and gone to heaven. You’re right. I was too easy. I should have asked for peanut brittle.”

      She laughed out loud at his look of ecstasy.

      Just as quickly her laughter faded as more memories of another time, another look of ecstasy had been on his handsome face.

      When he’d been standing just inside her front door, awkwardly saying goodbye but making no move to leave. The only move he’d made had been to bend and gently kiss her lips.

      Then he’d kissed her not so gently.

      Oh, Lord, how he’d kissed her.

      And kissed her.

      No, she couldn’t keep thinking of that morning. Not with him here, alone, in her house, just the two of them and the bed where he’d made love to her.

      No, not love. They’d just been two colleagues dealing poorly with a very stressful night in the emergency room.

      Her gaze tangled with his and his good humor faded just as quickly as hers had. Was he remembering, too? Recalling that the last time he’d been in her house, he’d never seen the kitchen but had had an up-close-and-personal tour of her bedroom?

      He stuck the remainder of his fudge in his mouth, stood and brushed his hands over the faded jeans he’d changed into in her guest bathroom after his shower. When he’d swallowed the mouthful, he took a step back. “I put your Santa suit on the sofa.”

      His words managed to pull her from memories of Dirk’s last visit to further in the past. Her father’s Santa suit. When Dirk had asked her about what he’d wear, she’d instantly offered her father’s suit.

      “Thanks for the fudge and for the loan of the suit.”

      “It was the least I could do as you filled in for Santa.” True, but had anyone else agreed to play the role, she would have bought a cheap Santa costume from a department store. For Dirk, she’d dug out the treasured suit that had belonged to her father.

      “Thanks all the same.”

      “If you hadn’t agreed, I’d have had to play Santa.” Not that her father’s suit would have fit her, but she’d have made it work somehow. “I think the kids might have been scarred for life.”

      His gaze raked over the ample upper part of her body. “You’re probably right about that. You’re no Santa.” He tossed her earlier words back at her.

      Abby didn’t know whether to be offended or flattered. Either way, heat crept into her face.

      “I’ll get a dish for you to take some home.” She stood so rapidly her chair almost toppled. Pulling out a Christmas patterned storage tin, she placed a generous piece of plastic wrap inside, arranged as much as would fit of the fudge and cookies, and put the lid on. “There you go.”

      He’d moved over next to her, standing near the cabinets. His body heat radiated toward her, luring her nearer. “I feel guilty, coercing you to make this and then taking most of it.”

      “You should feel guiltier if you left it here,” she teased a bit nervously, playfully elbowing him, the contact shooting stars through the pit of her belly.

      His gaze dropped to where she’d touched his arm then his brow rose in question of her comment.

      “If you left it, I’d eat it,” she clarified, not lowering her gaze despite how her blood pumped through her body at warp speed and made her feel as if she needed to call time out so she could catch her breath.

      Again his eyes ran over her features, taking their time and not seeming to mind the bumps and valleys along the journey. “That would be a bad thing?”

      “I’m a woman who is constantly on a diet,” she admitted, sucking in her waist reflexively as his gaze traveled lower. Not that holding her belly in would do much good.

      “You have no reason to be on a diet.” When his eyes met hers, they were blue fire, hot, lust-filled.

      A thousand carolers began to sing in her soul, louder and louder until she might explode from the sheer beauty of it, until she was sure the sound must be able to be heard in heaven itself.

      “No reason at all,” he repeated, his gaze burning hotter. “You’re perfect just as you are.”

      Um, right. Perfect. If you liked a woman who was busty and hippy, with a little extra thigh thrown in on the sides. But she couldn’t look away from Dirk, because he was either the most talented fibber in the world or he meant what he said. And, darn, if those carolers hadn’t gone up another octave in the pit of her belly, making every individual cell vibrate in a happy dance.

      “I, uh…” What could she say when he was looking at her as if a slightly fuller figure really was perfection? She shoved the fudge at him. “Thank you, but I’m glad you’re taking it, all the same.”

      He looked as if he wanted to say more, but must have decided against doing so as he took the candy, stared at her a few moments, his gaze going from fire to almost a sad smoldering. “Bye, Abs. You working tomorrow night?”

      Abs. He really shouldn’t say her name like that so carelessly! Holding her breath, she nodded.

      “Are you planning to go to the hospital Christmas party this weekend?” Had he winced while asking that? Or after the words had left his mouth?

      “Of course,” she answered slowly, watching the play of conflicting emotions dance on his face. “I’m on the hospital’s Christmas committee and helped put the party together. Are you going?”

      “I hadn’t planned to, but…” He paused, looked as if he needed to loosen his collar even though his black T-shirt was far from restricting at the neck.

      “But?” she prompted, her eyes focusing on a bead of sweat she’d swear was forming on his brow.

      He took a deep breath, as if he was about to embark on a dangerous quest he really didn’t want to go on but had little choice. “If you’ll go with me, I could probably tolerate it this once. When I didn’t RSVP, the hospital administrator came by.” Dirk sighed, looking almost as uncomfortable as he had when he’d been playing Santa. “He said it wouldn’t look good for the newest member on the medical staff to not show for the hospital’s biggest employee social event of the year.”