It didn’t help that she was slouched down against the back of the couch, her knees bent, her bare feet anchored on the edge of the couch cushion to stop her sliding off, the almost empty bowl of chili balanced on her stomach and supported by her thighs. It was distracting to see her so casual and at ease in his home, sitting next to him with barely a hand span between them like they did it every night.

Like it was the most natural thing in the world.

The feeling was not reciprocated. Grady spent his entire life keeping a mental and physical distance from people. It was how he’d survived those weeks and months after his parents and Bethany had died without totally cracking up, and it had become a habit. Except everything was ass-up with Suzanne. His body was enjoying her nearness too much, noticing every squiggle and squirm, his senses on high alert.

So conscious of her was he, everything else took a back seat, including his chili. It could have been a bowl of sawdust for all Grady knew.

“So…which one?” she asked as she forked chili into her mouth and scooped up the two DVDs she’d purchased yesterday. Everything shifted beneath her shirt very nicely. She filled out that sweater far too well.

She examined the covers. “The one with the couple in the sleigh? A Knight Before Christmas? Or the one with the couple in front of a tree covered in candy canes? The Candy Cane Christmas Wish?” She glanced from one to the other before thrusting the candy cane one at him. “I think the schmaltz is stronger with this one.”

Grady shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. He’d rather watch paint dry than either of them, so… “Ladies’ choice.”

She gave him a brief smile and said, “Okay, candy canes it is.”

Unfolding herself from the couch, she walked around the coffee table to the television and inserted the disc. Her ass was right in front of him, and Grady couldn’t help but stare. Other parts of him were far less passive. It was the kind of ass a man could grab a hold of—not bony, not a thousand-squats-a-day firm, but round and soft, just like the peaches Annie used in her cobbler, and good Christ, he wanted to lean forward and bite it.

Grady stood abruptly as she straightened, thankful he was in jeans tonight, not his sweats. Sweats were not great at camouflaging erections. “I’ll just grab some cobbler,” he said. “You want some for when you’ve finished your chili?”