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Kiss his best friend?
His whole body hummed with desire. Her eyes reflected the same heat. Had it always been there and he’d been too blind to notice it?
“Katie,” he whispered, “I want to kiss you.”
He expected her to walk away. To be the voice of reason.
Instead she leaned forward and kissed him. She nipped at the corner of his mouth then traced her tongue along the seam of his lips.
Where had homebody Katie Garrity learned to kiss like this? He pulled her against him, deepened the kiss and fell back against the couch, taking her with him.
His hands hiked up her sweater to the clasp of her bra. With one quick movement he unhooked it.
Katie giggled against his mouth. “Somehow I knew you'd be good at that. Loads of experience, I imagine.”
To his embarrassment, Katie didn't have to imagine. Noah made no secret of his no-commitment flings. What was he doing? This was his friend. “We shouldn't—”
“We should.” She pressed her hand over his mouth. “I want to know what else you're good at.”
* * *
Crimson, Colorado: Finding home—and forever—in the West
A Baby and a Betrothal
Michelle Major
MICHELLE MAJOR grew up in Ohio but dreamed of living in the mountains. Soon after graduating with a degree in journalism, she pointed her car west and settled in Colorado. Her life and house are filled with one great husband, two beautiful kids, a few furry pets and several well-behaved reptiles. She’s grateful to have found her passion writing stories with happy endings. Michelle loves to hear from her readers at www.michellemajor.com.
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Contents
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
It was pretty much a given that a first date was a disaster when getting ready for it had been the best part of the evening.
Katie Garrity picked at the pale pink polish on her fingernails as she tried to look interested in the man sitting across from her. Owning a bakery was tough on her hands, so she’d tried to make them look more feminine tonight. She’d blown out her hair, applied makeup and even worn a dress and heels. All to look datable, the kind of woman a man would want to marry and have babies with. Her stomach squeezed at the time and effort she’d wasted. Or maybe it was her ovaries clenching.
Her date tapped his fingers on the table and her gaze snapped to his. “I have a couple of friends who are on gluten-free diets,” she said, hoping she was responding to the question he’d asked. “I’ve been working on some recipes that would appeal to them.”
“I’m talking about more than gluten-free.” Her date shook his head. “I mean a full overhaul to a raw-foods diet. You would
