Page 42 of All She Wants

“You were very entertaining.”

Claire slid both arms around Erin’s waist. “I enjoyed having an excuse to put my hands on you in public.”

Erin kissed her, and Claire drew her closer until the ache in her ankles became considerably less important. “I believe you promised to warm me up,” Claire murmured against her mouth.

Erin glanced toward the kettle. “I thought you meant hot chocolate.”

“I have plans for your mouth, and none of them involve hot chocolate.”

Erin switched off the kettle. “Then take me upstairs, and I’ll show you exactly how useful my mouth can be when I’m on my knees.”

“That is exactly what I had in mind.” Claire took her hand and led her out of the kitchen. Neither of them returned for the hot chocolate.

Chapter Sixteen

The prime rib was still roasting. Erin pulled the sourdough focaccia from the oven, filling the kitchen with the scent of rosemary and fresh bread. Across the island, Claire finished arranging the appetizers. Erin moved through the rental’s kitchen without hesitation now, opening drawers she had memorized. When she reached past Claire for the olive oil, her palm settled naturally at Claire’s hip.

Claire’s laptop chimed at four fifteen. She dried her hands and accepted the video call.

Camille appeared from the apartment she shared with Nick near Ramstein, Germany, wearing a paper crown that had slipped sideways. Midnight had passed there fifteen minutes earlier. Julien joined from London, where forty-five minutes remained before the new year. “Happy New Year, Mom,” Camille said.

“Happy New Year! You both look happy. How did you celebrate?”

“Nick and I watched fireworks from our balcony. It was a perfect night,” Camille said.

“We’re staying in,” Julien added. “We have champagne chilling, and we can see half of London’s fireworks from the sitting-room window.”

Claire laughed. “Well then, you two sound as though you managed perfectly well celebrating the holidays on the other side of the world.”

Erin passed behind Claire, carrying the breadbasket, and Camille leaned closer to her screen.

“Was that Erin?”

Claire turned the laptop slightly. “Yes. Erin, these are my children, Camille and Julien.”

Erin stepped into view and waved. “Hi. Happy New Year.”

“You own the clothing boutique where Mom spent Christmas Eve, right?” Camille asked.

Erin glanced at Claire, then angled her face away from the camera and winked. Her laugh escaped before she managed to turn back.

“That’s me,” she said.

Julien looked at his mother. “You were trapped overnight in a clothing store and are still wearing one of your same sweaters?”

“I had more pressing concerns than purchasing new clothes.”

“The way you love new clothes, I would have expected at least one dramatic wardrobe purchase,” Camille said.

“Your mother was far too busy managing our emergency food supply,” Erin told her.

“I had to make sure the champagne was worthy of a Christmas Eve celebration.”

Erin laughed and shook her head.

Camille looked between them. “So Erin is joining you for New Year’s Eve there?”

“She is,” Claire said.