Page 40 of Finally Moore

“That makes sense,” she says, her tone a bit reserved. “I’m taking my niece to the Christmas Village at the orchard tonight. Are you… are you still coming?”

My mind flashes to the scene from this morning. Scarlett’s head tossed back, her spine perfectly arched like she was offering herself up to me, as I learned exactly whatcomingfor her looked like.

Stop it. As far as you’re concerned, that never happened.

When Scarlett’s pouty lips form a frown, I realize I haven’t answered her. “Yes, tonight. I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”

“Are you sure? I mean, you don’t have to—”

“Scarlett.” I lock gazes with her. “I promise I’m looking forward to it.”

She smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Okay,” she says, sounding unconvinced.

Once again, this woman has me losing all sense. Because I do something I really have no right doing while every fiber of my being tells meshe needs this.I walk around the counter and stand in front of her. Scarlett’s breath hitches in her throat as I thread my fingers through her hair and pull her mouth to mine. Although this kiss doesn’t last as long as the one from yesterday, the sensation is just as intense—if not more so.

God, this was a terrible idea.

Because now I’m half-hard and have to go back into the kitchen and deal with Logan. Hopefully his presence alone will be enough to help kill the obvious bulge in my pants. But then, when Scarlett rewards me with a satisfied grin and I see that whatever doubt had plagued her before is gone, I realize (a little too late) that jerking off is going to be the key to my survival this holiday season.

“I’ll see you tonight,” I tell her, while reminding myself to keep an extra bottle of lotion handy.

“Okay.” Her fingers touch her lips as she turns towards the exit.

“Scar,” I call out. She spins around with a confused expression on her face. I hold up her to-go bag. “Forget something?”

She reaches out for her muffin. A bolt of electricity passes through me as her fingers brush mine, and her cheeks are flushed as she clutches her food close to her chest. “Thank you,” she says awkwardly before scurrying off, appearing a little shell-shocked

Me too, babe. Me too.

Chapter seventeen

Scarlett

IfIthoughtIwas confused after what I’ve deemedthe mistletoe incidentyesterday, well, now I’m downright flabbergasted. I was able to rationalize that first kiss. No matter how incredible it may have felt, how his taste lingered on my lips all day, the fact remained that it was forced. Orchestrated by Tilly, while Scott had no choice but to perform as the diligent fiancé.

Acting Lesson 101: Kisses shared on stage are not real… even if they feel really, really good.

Because you put yourself into those roles, pretend to be other people, so whatever you feel in the moment is cultivated from that. Nine times out of ten, a real-life repeat doesn’t have the same effect and you both quickly realize it was all part of the show, the show of playing the part.

But the kiss at the café was different. There was no one sitting in the audience, no outside influences looking to force his hand—or should I say his mouth? This morning it was just Scott. So, it has to be real, right? Or is he just one of those method actors who never turns it off until the performance is wrapped up for good?

I need help!

I pull out my cell and check to see if Hannah has read my text yet. She hasn’t. As her boss, it makes me happy to know she isn’t spending her shift with her eyes glued to her screen. But as her friend, I’m pissed off. She got me into this mess and now she needs to get me out of it.

Me: HELP!

Me: SOS!

The little circles still haven’t turned blue, which means she’s not looking.Damn it.

“I did it!” Brittany cheers as she gives Scott a high-five.

My eyes flick over to where they’re standing at a little dart-throwing game. He looks genuinely happy to be at the orchard with me and Brittany. I know he said he wanted to be here but saying it and meaning it are two different things.

“Are you sure you haven’t done this before?” he asks her.

She giggles. “No, Mommy would never let me play with sharp stuff.”

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