“I wouldn’t dare to be late my first time to the Kavanaugh house,” he said, glancing at her appreciatively. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you,” she replied lightly, even though she was stirred by the earnestness of his tone. She held out her hands for the basket and wine so he could remove his coat. “You came bearing gifts.”
“Didn’t think it could hurt,” he admitted. “There was a time when I was the last person in town your mother would have invited for dinner.”
“Well, things change,” she said, balancing the enormous basket on her hip.
“Good,” Eric growled softly before he kissed her, taking Colleen by surprise.
Pleasant surprise.
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His lips were cool on the surface from the chilly November night, but she felt his heat underneath. He smelled like soap and spice—even more delicious than the scents wafting from the kitchen.
She blinked dazedly when he raised his head a moment later. His smile was a little devilish as he fleetly unbuttoned his overcoat.
“Thought I better get that in before family descended,” he said, his tone hushed in deference to the sounds of conversing voices, the sports commentary on the football game, excited yelps coming from her niece, Riley, and rattling pans in the distance.
She started to chastise him out of old habit, but caught herself. “Good idea,” she said instead. She ceded the large basket to him when he’d hung his coat on the coat rack and his hands were free. “This is absolutely gorgeous,” she said, referring to the elaborate basket filled with scrumptious-looking bakery items. “Did you order it from Sultan’s?”
“I did. I wanted to look good.”
Her glance ran over his tall, fit form garbed in an immaculately cut gray suit, not bothering to hide her admiration. “I have to say, you do a pretty good job of making yourself look good without any help, Dr. Reyes.”
His playful expression hardened. Mirth gleamed in his eyes, but so did elemental male desire. A thrill went through her at the sight of it.
“Is that a compliment? From Colleen Kavanaugh?”
She hitched her chin toward the hallway and grinned over her shoulder.
“I do believe it was.”
Their opening exchange set a good tone for the rest of the evening. Colleen’s nervousness faded when she saw how comfortable both Eric and Natalie seemed at dinner, how every member of her family welcomed the Reyeses. She hadn’t quite realized until they sat down for the Thanksgiving feast how integral Eric had become during the past month or so. Everyone had questions for Marc about his big decision to run for the U.S. senate. After that, the topic of conversation turned to Natalie and Liam’s wedding. Eric fit right in to the homey family discussion.
Colleen sat between Eric and her niece Riley’s high chair, helping Mari feed the energetic nineteen-month-old girl. As they talked about the possibility of Brigit’s sister’s family coming from Sacramento to attend the wedding, Riley cheerfully threw a bit of sweet potato onto Colleen’s cheek.
Colleen’s mouth was still open in surprise when Eric said, grinning, “This way.”
Colleen turned her cheek to him, and he wiped it with his napkin, pausing to gently push a tendril of hair behind her ear, stroking her temple. It all happened so fast, she didn’t have time to be self-conscious about his caress in front of her whole family. When she sat back, she saw everyone had paused and was staring at her and Eric with expressions that ranged from wide-eyed curiosity (Jenny) to pleased (Natalie, Brendan and her mother) to smug (Mari) to stunned (her brothers).
Riley yelped in protest that no one was paying attention to her anymore. Everyone started eating again, while Eric valiantly resumed the topic.
After dinner, everyone helped to clear and clean up while the kids played with Riley in the living room. It was a plan which caused just as much camaraderie as it did chaos as they bumped into each other, the men shouted questions for instructions on what went where and Brigit answered them good-naturedly, then followed behind, silently correcting all their mistakes. When Marc attempted to shove the huge roasting pan in the packed dishwasher, though, Brigit drew the line and shooed everyone out of her kitchen.
Colleen was the last to leave. She wandered down the front hallway and looked into the family room, not seeing the face she sought. She turned her head, hearing the muted sound of men’s voices in conversation. The curtained French doors leading to the formal living room were partially opened. A table lamp softly lit the room. She poked her head inside and saw two tall men in their shirtsleeves standing in front of the built-in bookcases.
“What are you two doing?” she asked in a hushed voice.
“Eric was interested in Dad’s book collection,” Marc said.
Colleen’s eyes swept over the large, handsome collection of books and landed on Eric. She smiled.
“Dad loved his books. He didn’t have that many growing up. He used to say—”
“There was no greater wealth than knowledge. Marc just told me,” Eric said, holding her stare.
“Eric was just talking about Dad when you came in, Colleen. You knew him? Before the crash?” Marc directed his question to Eric. Colleen walked toward the two men, her interest piqued.