Twelve Days of Temptation (A Hot Holiday Novella) (Temptation #1) by Ruth Cardello Page A

with taking it slowly?”
    He pulled her to his chest and kissed her temple. “You’re worth the wait, Kate. You always have been. Let’s go eat.”

Chapter Eleven
     
    Kate spent the next few evenings with Brock. He’d taken her to a holiday party hosted by a married couple, Chris and Kim, he’d been friends with since high school. He’d introduced her as a very good friend of his.
    Chris had elbowed Brock and said, “A friend, huh? Isn’t this the Kate you mooned over for years? You know, Untouchable—”
    His wife had glared at him and interrupted, “Do you want to ever have sex again, Chris?”
    “Yes,” Chris had said and frowned.
    “Then stop talking.”
    “Oh, I wasn’t thinking.” He’d blushed. “Kate, I didn’t mean any offense. It’s just what everyone called you.”
    Brock had become visibly upset beside her, but for once the label hadn’t bothered Kate. She’d felt free from the old nickname. What others thought of her didn’t matter to her, not since Mr. Elf had shown her what she felt was just as important.
    Kim had said, “Kate, I’m so sorry. Chris, that is your last eggnog. You’re cut off.”
    Kate had surprised them all by smiling. “It doesn’t bother me anymore. Those people didn’t know me.”
    Brock had hugged her, and she’d felt a smile on his lips when he’d kissed her forehead.
    “See,” Chris had said, “she’s not upset, and I just got Brock to admit they are more than friends.”
    Kim had looked across at Kate and smiled. “He’s incorrigible, but I love him.”
    Chris had let out a whoop. “No couch for me tonight.”
    Meeting the rest of Brock’s friends that night had been just as entertaining. Watching him with them had warmed Kate’s heart. Brock loved these people, and it was easy to see they loved him right back.
    The next night, Brock had surprised her by inviting her to have dinner with his parents. When Kate had hesitated, he’d said, “My parents are fun. Well, most of the time. Don’t let my dad start talking about local politics. And if my mom offers you a piece of meat pie, ask her what year it was made. She doesn’t label things well in the freezer. Just avoid the meat pie altogether.”
    “Who will you tell them I am?”
    “The truth. You’re Kate, a woman I want to introduce to the joys of canasta.”
    “What’s canasta?”
    “It’s an addictive card game. My family has always played it. I have to warn you, though. We’re cutthroat. Don’t bat those pretty blue eyes at me and think I’ll go easy on you. It’s men against women when we play cards, and the losers always do the dishes.”
    Brock’s parents had met them at the door. His father was tall, with a full head of white hair and blue-green eyes like Brock’s. His mother was much shorter, with salt-and-pepper hair cut in a flattering short style and dark brown eyes. Kate wasn’t sure how to read either of them.
    Linda had waved warmly from behind them and loudly told the woman she was standing beside not to embarrass Brock in front of Kate.
    Brock had placed his hand low on Kate’s back and ushered her inside.
    “Marty, offer to take her coat,” Brock’s mother had said to her husband.
    “Sharon, I’m not putting on airs just because she’s here. She can hang up her own coat if she wants to.”
    Brock’s hand had tensed on her back, but Kate had smiled over her shoulder at him. “Don’t worry, Brock, old people don’t offend me.”
    His father had coughed and turned a little red. “Did you just call me old?”
    Kate had given him her best mischievous smile and shrugged. “I did, but you deserved it.”
    He’d studied her for a moment, then said, “I could like this one, Brock.”
    “Enough to let her in the house, Marty?” His wife rolled her eyes but hugged her husband.
    Marty had nodded and stepped back. Once everyone was inside, he’d held out his hand for Kate’s coat. “Well, what you are waiting for? Give me your damn coat or I’ll never