Home > Under the Mistletoe with Me (With Me in Seattle #1.5)(5)

Under the Mistletoe with Me (With Me in Seattle #1.5)(5)
Author: Kristen Proby

I just stand and blink at him. Brynna, the person I’m closest to in the world, is coming home and is in trouble and I’m just now finding out?


“Yeah, I know, in hindsight I probably should have said something, but you would have worried, and I wanted you to enjoy the holiday.”


“Where is she now?”

“I’m not sure, she’s taking it slow because of the weather and the kids, but she should be here by the middle of next week. Matt’s keeping close tabs on her.”

Isaac’s brother Matt is a Seattle cop, and I know he’ll do everything in his power to help Brynna. The Montgomery men take care of their family, and because of me, Brynna is family too, so I trust that she’ll be safe.

“Now, about the texts,” Isaac mumbles and my anger sparks again. “Let me see your phone.” He holds his large hand out expectantly.

“Why? So you can delete them?”

“Jesus, Stacy, what is wrong with you? Just give me your phone, please.” He appears exasperated and worried, but not like he’s feeling guilty, which gives me hope, so I hand him my phone. He locates the texts and frowns as he reads through them.

“You got them all out of order.”

“You think?”

“I hate being on two different cell services.”

“Isaac, I don’t think the fact that we have two different plans is the point right now. Who did you intend to send those to?”

“You.” He passes the phone back to me with a frown. “Who else would I send sexy messages to?”

“You tell me.”

“What has gotten into you? I just wanted to send you some fun texts to spice things up a bit. I’m fucking flirting with my wife, that’s all!” Now he’s pissed; fiery blue eyes, jaw set in a grim line, hands back on his hips.

I feel like a complete idiot. I close my eyes and sit on the edge of the bed, lowering my head and bracing my face in my hands.

What is wrong with me?

“Baby, talk to me.” Isaac kneels in front of me and pulls my hands away from my face. He cups my cheek in his hand, brushing his thumb along my skin and I feel tears well in my eyes.

“I thought…”

“I know what you thought, and it pisses me the hell off, but tell me why you went there, Stace. This isn’t who we are.”

I close my eyes again as relief surges through me and I grip his wrist with my hand, keeping his hand against my cheek.

“Since Sophie was born, we seem different,” I whisper and open my eyes. “We’re so busy with her, you with the company, and me with the blog, and we’re always so damn tired. I just miss you. And I know that we don’t make love like we used to, and well…”

“You assumed I’d go looking for it somewhere else.”

It’s not a question. I cringe at the cold edge of his voice and focus down at his chest.

“I’ve never given you a reason to believe that, Stacy.” God, he sounds angry, and I can’t blame him.

“You’re right, and I’m sorry. But you seemed to be hiding something from me, and the texts were a shock. You haven’t flirted with me like that since long before the baby.”

“I know.” He runs his fingers down my cheek before gripping my hands tightly in his. I love how big and strong his hands are. “When we were in Tahiti for the wedding, you were so relaxed and fun, and I realized that I miss you too, babe. The sex was great, and we laughed like we haven’t in a long time. It’s time to reconnect. I want to start dating again.”

“Dating?” I giggle.

“Well, yeah. I want to do things with just the two of us. It doesn’t have to be all the time, because Sophie is part of us, but we have a huge family who would love nothing more than to keep her once in a while, so I say we take advantage of it and spend some time together.”

And I melt. This is exactly what we need, what I’ve been missing.

“We only leave her with family,” I reply sternly.

“Of course, I wouldn’t leave her with just anyone. But you know our parents would love to spend extra time with her every few weeks or so.”

He’s right, they would, but it’ll be hard to be away from her. Yet, mending the connection between Isaac and me is imperative.

“You’re right. How should we start?” I ask.

“Well, right now…” he gives me that smile, the one he uses when he’s seducing me, and damned if it doesn’t always work.

“Right now?” I whisper.

He leans in and lightly brushes his lips across mine, once, then again, nibbling lightly at the edges of my lips.

“Right.” Kiss. “Now.”

Oh, hell yes.

He pulls me to my feet and yanks my blue long-sleeved t-shirt over my head, then pulls his own gray tee off and throws them aside. While I make quick work of my jeans and underwear, he swipes his hands over the bed, sending bags and boxes to the floor.

“I hope there wasn’t anything fragile in there,” he remarks with a grin and I shake my head, smiling back at him. His blue eyes light up at the sight of me naked, and he pulls me close, wrapping his arms around my waist and holding me firmly against him. “Did you eat lunch?”


“Uh, yeah.”

“Good, you’re going to need the energy.” He buries his face in my neck, nibbling and sucking his way up to my ear and across my jawline. I reach for his jeans and unfasten them, slide my hands between his boxer-briefs and skin, and push them over his hips and down his legs, kissing his chest and sculpted abdomen.

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