Page 72 of The Grumpy Side of Paradise

Our shoulders press together, and the slightly burned, nutty smell of his coffee mixes with the crisp, cold air to wrap us both in a cozy cocoon.

Hygge, man. Adam radiates it. He makes me want to curl into his arms in front of a warm fire and stay there forever.

“Oh. She made you buy her the sweater then?” I nudge him with my elbow, and he loses his balance. He catches himself before toppling into the snow, but he spills coffee on his coat. He growls and shoots me a look that’s somewhere between teasing and laughing.

“Oops.” I jump up and cover my mouth to keep from laughing. “Sorry about that.”

Rosie rolls back to her feet while Adam stands and wipes coffee from the front of his coat. He shakes it from his hand and tiny, brown droplets hit the snow.

“You’re lucky I don’t toss you into the snow.” He unzips his coat and slips it off.

“Here.” I hold out my hand to take it from him. “I’ll wash it for…” my words get caught in the realization of what’s under Adam’s coat.

“You don’t have to.” Adam follows my gaze to his chest. His eyes go wide when he sees what I’m seeing, and he hugs his coat over it. Then his face shuffles through a thousand shades of red before settling on maroon, just like in the Taylor Swift song.

I thought I couldn’t see his chest covered by anything that I would enjoy more than seeing it uncovered.

I was wrong.

This blue sweater with the reindeers around the chest that perfectly matches Rosie’s is the best thing I will ever see him in. I never want him to wear anything else again. It’s this sweater or nothing. Both are incredible.

Adam glares daggers at me, but his laugh is working hard to escape.

I suck in my lips, but I can’t help myself. I have to say something. “So, did you order the matching sweaters, or was that Rosie?”

His eyes narrow, but Rosie lets out a happy yap and jumps on me.

“Rosie,” he snaps at her, but he’s given me my answer.

“Really? Rosie drove to the store and bought you matching sweaters?” I tug on the coat, trying to get a better look at his sweater. He hugs the coat tighter to his chest.

I step closer—we’re inches apart—and tug harder.

In one quick movement, Adam switches the coat to one arm, then has both arms wrapped around me. “No. Rosie doesn’t know how to drive. She ordered them online.” His breath is warm and carries the caramel notes of his coffee.

“Wow. Impressive.” I lift my chin to the smile playing on his lips. “She used her little paws that lack opposable thumbs to search the internet, did she?” If I push up on my toes, I’ll be close enough to kiss him.

Adam doesn’t wait for me. He brushes his nose along mine, then kisses the side of my mouth. “Nothing that difficult. She found them on the Target website while I was doing some shopping.” His lips brush the other side of my mouth.

“For tools, right? That’s what you were shopping for.” I barely get the words out. His lips travel lower, leaving me breathless. I slide my hand behind his neck and grab the hair at the nape of his neck. If my knees go any weaker, I’ll need something to hold on to for support. “She happened to mention you should get matching sweaters while you were filling your cart with manly stuff?”

“Something like that.” His breath is fire burning the edges of my ear. “She didn’t want us to be cold.”

“A legitimate concern for an animal covered entirely by hair.” With my other hand, I trace my fingers down his spine.

Adam nuzzles my neck, nosing his way to my collarbone. “I’m notthathairy.”

“That’s not what—”

“—I know. It was a joke.” He plants a kiss on the spot where my collarbone meets my neck, and I melt.

“Funny.” I close my eyes, waiting for more, but with a groan, Adam steps back.

He keeps his hand on my hip, and our chests rise and fall together. I’m relieved that he’s having as hard a time breathing as I am. The distance he’s put between us is for me—it’s what I’ve asked for, not what he wants.

“So, uh, what do you have planned for the day?” Adam clears his throat.

“I need to go to Florence to pick up tile from some place called Al’s,” I say, like I’m not trying to recover from the way his kisses make the earth under my feet unsteady.

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