Free Kissing Under The Mistletoe: The Sullivans (Contemporary Romance) by Bella Andre Page A

fun.”
    A taxi immediately skidded to a stop for the
three long-legged beauties and they blew her kisses as they got
inside. “You, too!” Yvette called out before tucking her feet into
the cab and closing the door.
    Jack was laying both of their jackets over
the radiator when Mary returned. She’d chosen the house not only
for its views, but because she loved how big and open the rooms
felt. Even with four people living in it, she never felt cramped.
In fact, on nights like this when the girls went out, rather than
appreciate the quiet, she often found herself counting the minutes
until they returned with their noise and laughter and
exuberance.
    She’d made it sound to Jack as if she was
looking after them, but the truth was they looked after her,
too.
    “Sorry about all of that. It can be a bit of
a circus around here sometimes, especially on Friday nights.”
    Jack was the first man she’d invited inside
her house since moving in a month earlier. Seeing him looking so right in the midst of all the feminine
disarray sent her thoughts into a different kind of disarray. What
had she been doing before she’d rushed to see the girls off?
Thankfully, the half-filled boiler of her moka pot beside the sink
provided a clue.
    Still feeling flustered as she went back to
filling the boiler and then setting it on low heat on the stovetop,
she decided to face the situation head-on. “I hope they didn’t make
you uncomfortable. Especially,” she added with a small laugh, “with
all their flirting.”
    He laughed as he pulled up a seat at the bar.
“They were charming, although I can see that they could certainly
be a handful. I sometimes had trouble keeping a class of
engineering undergrads from rioting in the middle of a lecture when
I was a teaching assistant. My hat is off to you for taking on
three energetic young women.”
    She was still amazed that he hadn’t drooled
over them the way men always did, especially when they’d been
practically throwing themselves into his big, strong arms.
    “Oh, we’ve had a riot or two around here in
the past month,” Mary informed him as she inserted the funnel in
the boiler, then filled it with espresso beans she had ground that
morning. “Especially the night they were all fighting over the same
worthless guy. I ended up banning all social activities for the
rest of the week.” As she spoke she continued with the coffee
preparations by screwing on the top container and watching as the
coffee began to appear. “Of course, the girls are also a tremendous
amount of fun.” Seeing that half the coffee had brewed already, she
turned off the heat.
    “I’ve never seen that kind of coffeepot. Is
it from Italy?”
    She nodded. “It’s called a moka pot.” She
spelled out the word for him.
    “Whenever you speak about Italy, your accent
comes through.” His eyes were warm as he said to her, “Tell me
about the country you were born in so I can hear it some more.”
    She was a grown woman of thirty-two, not a
naive teenage girl anymore. So how did Jack manage to make her
blush so easily and so often?
    “Much like the United States, Italy is a
place with many different colors and textures. The golden ruins of
Rome. The checkered Duomo of Florence. The canals and opulence of
Venice.”
    “It sounds wonderful.”
    “It is,” she agreed. “And if you’re not
careful,” she added with a laugh, “I’ll end up regaling you with
stories of Italy like a travel agent all night long.”
    “I’d like that,” he said, and then,
“Especially if they're stories about your hometown.”
    As always, just thinking about Rosciano sent
feelings of conflict moving through her. On the one hand, she loved
it like no other place on Earth.
    On the other, it was where her heart had been
broken for the very first time by the person who had mattered most
to her.
    “On warm summer evenings, the teenage girls
flirt with the boys out by the fountain in the middle of the
square.” She smiled as