Geology professor Kendra Davis has been in love with Dr. Viviana Ortiz for so long she can barely remember what life was like before they met. They’ve built a life together. Gotten comfortable. Maybe too comfortable.
Comfortable enough to challenge each other to a simple contest: who can make the other person take the Lord’s name in vain the loudest and the most often with the least clothes on before Christmas. With only twelve days to prove that a long-term relationship doesn’t mean a physically dead one, Kendra has no time to waste. If only Viv played fair…
Will mental arithmetic, a little too much coffee, and absurdly placed mistletoe help two middle-aged scientists laugh and love their way through the holidays?
“This is a fun-loving book that is so adorable it will just melt your heart. You want this in your life!” —The Romantic Reader (read the full review here)
“…strong love and beautiful intimacy… This novella has it all for an entertaining holiday read.” —LezReviewBooks (read the full review here)
“…a satisfying mixture of sugar and spice, wonderful character chemistry, and relatable intimacy…” —The Lesbrary (read the full review here)
Kendra dangled the mistletoe above Viv, straightening her arm and stretching as high as she could. Viv reached and tried to push it away so it wouldn’t be overhead, and their hands tangled together, fighting for dominance.
“Afraid it’s going to drop germs on your head?” Kendra teased.
“Afraid it’s going to give you ideas.”
They were both about the same height, so the only way for Viv to have any chance of winning was for her to press as close to Kendra as possible. But Viv wasn’t plastered to her. Which was disappointing.
“What kind of ideas?”
“Ideas about what people do underneath that stupid vine you’re dangling over my head.”
“Me?” Kendra rose higher on her toes, ankles wobbling to keep her balance. It would be embarrassing to fall. “I’m calculating the angle you need. I’m thinking if our bodies form two sides of a triangle that meet at our hands, and both sides are the same distance, how small does the angle have to be for you to—”
“This small,” Viv said, pressing the entire length of her body to Kendra’s. “A zero-degree angle.”
This was what she missed.
Copyright © 2017 Siri Caldwell