Page 44 of The Christmas Romance Wish

She nibbles her lip.

I brush my fingertips across her forehead, then along her cheek. “I hardly believe that you’re real.”

Her eyes search mine as if I just said something absurd like zebras are excellent at ice skating. But this is not a moment to overthink. I press my mouth against Emmie’s lush lips, making this a peppermint mocha kiss.

When we part, I say, “It’s an official snow day.”

“We didn’t have those in Florida.”

“Oh, right. No white Christmases either.”

“White sand Christmases.”

“I dreaded snow days when I was a kid unless I was staying with my grandmother. Being an adult means I don’t have to do things I don’t want to.”

Emmie goes still, her expression not quite far away, but not entirely present either.

I rub my knuckles down her arm. “What are you thinking about?”

Her eyes dart to me. “How’d you know I’m thinking?”

“You were biting your lip.”

“I was thinking about what you said about being an adult. You don’t have to kiss me.”

What can only be described as a guffaw escapes at the absurdity of her comment. By the way her lip juts out, I quickly realize that was the wrong response.

“Emmie, I wanted to kiss you a minute ago. I want to kiss you again now. If you thought I was doing it for some other reason?—”

She flutters her hands by her ears. “I’m sorry. Sometimes, okay, most of the time, my head is full of questions and doubts and all this noise. It rushes in. I start overthinking. I’m sorry if I ruined it. Talk about death by awkward.”

“You didn’t ruin anything. I think it’s adorable. Endearing. It doesn’t have to be a mental struggle. Also, if you didn’t notice, I’m a big guy. Anyone, even you with your jiu-jitsu moves, would be hard-pressed to force me to do anything.”

Her shoulders up by her ears ease and she sits down on thecounter stool. “I learned to be alone. I’m comfortable being by myself in the company of written words. It’s being around the real people who lived the stories I help tell that can be a problem. Well, just one of the people. Who happens to be handsome and strong and has a dimple when he smiles at me. But I haven’t notice it pop when he smiles at other times.”

I step closer, the warmth between us stoked once more.

“You don’t have to question, doubt, or overthinkus. This is what it’s like to feel wanted.” I haven’t ever quite experienced it in this way and it’s good. So good.

“This is new to me.”

“Me too.”

She nods, her gaze holding mine.

Boosting Emmie onto the counter, so we’re closer to being face to face, I press my forehead against hers. I close my eyes, letting us steep in this moment, in this connection and closeness.

Taking a deep breath, I shift back slightly. “Now, do you want the good news or the bad news?”

“The bad first. I like to save the best for last.”

“Flights have been canceled until at least Christmas night. The planes they rerouted can’t land because the storm hasn’t let up. Tomorrow is Christmas Eve Eve, so they’re telling travelers to find alternate means of travel. I checked in with my pilot friends and the best I can do is get you down to Las Vegas then you can fly to Miami. Or you can wait until Christmas night and hope for a seat on a plane out of Salt Lake City.”

Emmie drops into a chair at the table. She eyes the red mug. I hooked a candy cane over the side. “You did this for me?”

“I hope you like it.”

She takes a sip. “It tastes like Christmas.”

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