Keep On Loving you by Christie Ridgway Page A

and forth. “Please?” His smile was boyish and friendly. “With sugar on top?”
    â€œGood God,” she muttered but found herself giving in to his ridiculous request. Bellying up to the counter, she closed the gap between them. Then she fisted her hand in the lapel of his jacket, drew his face close and rose onto her tiptoes. “Thank you,” she grumbled.
    And moved her lips to his cheek.
    At the same instant that he turned his mouth to meet hers.

CHAPTER FIVE
    W HEN THE DOOR to the lakefront, Mediterranean-style villa swung open, Zan’s gaze dropped to find a smiling, gap-toothed little kid, and Zan’s already good mood bobbed even higher. “You must be Poppy’s boy,” he said. The family resemblance was strong.
    â€œMason Walker. Almost Mason Walker Hamilton.” The boy talked as if he was fifteen instead of five or so. “I’m a best man.”
    â€œYep,” Zan agreed. “You strike me as a good kind of guy.”
    â€œHe means he’s my best man...when I marry Poppy.” A dark-haired grown person strode up behind the kid and held out his hand. “Ryan Hamilton.”
    â€œZan Elliott.” He cocked his head, taking in the other man’s famous face as he passed him a bottle of wine. “I heard it through the grapevine, but it’s hard to believe Poppy Walker snagged one of Hollywood’s most entrenched bachelors.”
    â€œHas me wrapped around her little finger.” He looked cheerful about it.
    Then Poppy herself crowded into the doorway, and Zan was reminded of how wrapped around her finger he used to be. “Hah,” she said to Ryan. “You knew I was behind you when you said that.”
    â€œDoesn’t mean it isn’t true.”
    She sent her fiancé an indulgent look, then grabbed Zan’s arm and tugged him into the foyer. “Come in, it’s cold out there.” His hands were in her small ones as she took a long look at him. Her brilliant smile was as warm as the hug that ensued after.
    â€œI’m so glad you could come to dinner,” she said against his chest, squeezing hard.
    He returned the embrace, charmed by her all over again. “Not mad that I practically invited myself?”
    â€œPractically?” She leaned back and grinned at him. “You did invite yourself.”
    A big dog pushed between them. “Who’s this?” he asked.
    Mason ran his hand over the canine’s big head. “Our dog, Grimm.”
    â€œSo domesticated, Pop,” Zan said, his gaze lingering on her. When he’d left she’d been a teenager, coltish and sweet as candy. “It looks good on you. Beautiful, actually.”
    Ryan’s brows rose. “Uh-oh. Do I have to take you out?”
    â€œOh, you,” she said to her man, then grabbed Zan’s hand again and began towing him forward. “Though I did have a wild crush on him when I was a girl.”
    â€œYou did?” he asked, as she pushed him onto a stool drawn up to the granite island in a spacious kitchen with views of the lake. “How come I didn’t see that?”
    â€œBecause you only had eyes for Mac, of course.”
    What could he say? But he was glad he was spared from answering when Ryan pressed a cold bottle of beer in his hand. “Thanks, man.”
    â€œNo problem—”
    The peal of the front doorbell interrupted him. Grimm barked and the Walker-Hamilton household inhabitants rushed for the foyer again. Zan slugged down a mouthful of beer before they came back, ushering people in front of them.
    Zan got to his feet, prepared for more introductions and greetings.
    Shay Walker, who had turned chic on him, squealed like the young girl she used to be when she caught sight of him. He caught her up, whirled her around, and then they grinned at each other. “Wow, you grew up good,” she said.
    â€œBack atcha.” Then he turned and held out his hand to a big man