They did annoy her, but still. “There’s more to types than cinema choices and golf. He’s a good dancer,” she shot out, and hated the defensive tone in her voice. “I like to dance.”

“Okay.” He stepped over, put his arms around her.

“Cut it out. I’m not finished with the cake.”

“It looks good.You look better, and smell really good, too.” He sniffed at her neck. “Sugar and vanilla. I didn’t recognize Nick when you were dancing with him.” He turned her smoothly, right, then left. “It was crowded. And I was looking at you. Really, I was just looking at you.”

“That’s pretty good,” she murmured.

“It’s pretty true.” He dipped his head to brush her lips with his. “Hi, Laurel.”

“Hi, Del.”

“If you give Parker those flowers, I’ll buy you some more.”

It was, she thought, the perfect amount of beeswax in the sugar. “Okay”

HOLIDAYS, THE REAL DEAL WITH NO WORK ON THE SLATE, WERE SO rare Laurel’s internal clock woke her at six sharp. She started to roll out of bed when she remembered she didn’t have to roll out. She snuggled back in with the same sort of giddy wonder she’d felt as a child with an unexpected snow day.

Even as she sighed and closed her eyes again, she thought of Del in another bed, conveniently close by.

She could get up after all, sneak into his room, into his bed. All bets off.

It was Independence Day, after all. Why not be independent? He wasn’t likely to complain or yell for help. She could change into something sexier than her tank and boxers. She had the equipment. The blue teddy would do the job. Or maybe the silk chemise with the pastel flower pattern, or ...

Thinking about it, she fell back to sleep.

Opportunity missed, she thought as she wandered down to the family kitchen nearly three hours later. Probably for the best as the others would surely gloat about her and Del losing the bet. This was the best way, the way to show they both were adults with willpower and sense. Just a couple more weeks, really, so no big deal.

Breakfast scents and voices filled the kitchen. And there he was, looking all gorgeous and relaxed, drinking coffee and flirting with Mrs. G. She could only wish she’d followed through on that early-morning thought.

“And she’s up,” Mac announced. “Just in time. We’re having the ginormous holiday breakfast, which, thanks to Del’s persuasive powers, includes Belgian waffles.”

“Yum.”

“I’ll say. We’re going to do nothing but eat and fat-ass all day, until we go to the park and eat and fat-ass there. Including you.” Mac pointed at Parker.

“Not all fat asses are created equal. I’m going to do a little reorganizing in my office. It relaxes me.”

“Your office is already organized to Obsessiveville,” Emma pointed out.