* * *
We don’t make it downstairs before the second movie ends. We doze off, napping until well past midnight, when Sienna wakes me up with butterfly kisses all over my face.
“I’m hungry,” she whispers.
“Then let’s get you a midnight snack.”
We get dressed in our matching PJs and tiptoe downstairs. The entire house is quiet and dark, our path guided by dim nightlights built in to the stairs. We don’t turn on any lights until we get to the kitchen.
I lift her onto the counter and wedge myself between her thighs. “What do you feel like?”
“Ice cream,” she whispers against my mouth.
“Mmm.” I kiss her deeply.
She giggles as my hold on her tightens, then gasps when I jerk her hips to the edge of the counter and her cotton-covered pussy makes contact with my cock.
“Oooh, there’s the sore feeling you warned me about,” she says, laughing in a way that’s on the edge of moaning. Part frustration, part need. Zero regret.
I’m about to crouch down and kiss her pussy better through her PJs when we hear footsteps.
I get about three inches of space between our bodies before her grandmother wanders into the kitchen. “Oh, it’s you two.”
Sienna blushes. “Sorry, Nana.”
“What are you sorry for, darling?”
“Waking you up.”
“Happy laughter is the best thing to wake up.” She sighs. “Oh, I forgot my glasses. Sienna, would you be a dear and grab them for me? They’re on my bedside table.”
“Of course, Nan.” Sienna slides off the counter and pushes past me.
I turn and dig out the ice cream from the freezer. When I return to the island, I’m grateful that the ice cream and then the counter are disguising my erection, because Sienna’s grandmother is watching me very carefully.
She wiggles a flask she pulled out of nowhere at me. “Shall we toast, young man?”
There’s only one answer there. “Always happy to share a drink with you, ma’am.”
“You’re very polite when my granddaughter isn’t driving you to distraction.”
“Sometimes I manage to be polite even when she is.”
“I suppose you have a lot of practice.” She opens the liquor cabinet, but doesn’t pull out any bottles. “Did you fall in love with her as soon as she came to work for you, or was it a gradual thing?”
It takes me a second to realize what she’s just asked. I stall. “Pardon me?”
“You heard me just fine. You’re Jacob Lowe. The man who drove her to such frustrations that she felt compelled to quit her job three days before Christmas.”
Well, fuck. I exhale roughly. “How long have you known?”
She waves her hand dismissively. “Since the moment you arrived. Your picture is on your website, and I am in the habit of snooping on all of my grandchildren, including where they work and who they work for.”
“Does anyone else know?”
“Probably not.” She lifts her voice as Sienna returns. “Oh, you found them. Thank you.”
Sienna hands over the glasses, and Nana pretends to need them to read the labels on the bottles.