Page 63 of Inherited Holiday

He beamed, all proud of himself.

“Now you’re spoiling me.”

“Get used to it.” He grinned. “I’m back, baby. Now let’s go for a ride.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “I’m not going to pretend that seeing you on that snowmobile doesn’t affect me. I practically lived on the back of yours.”

There was a permanent grin on his face. “Why do you think I bought it for you?”

I laughed, hurrying back inside. I got Max nice and comfy in his crate. He loved it in there and I made sure the doggie cam was working.

“Be back soon, Maximillian!”

I hauled ass outside and grabbed the extra helmet from Nicholas’s hands, then put it on while I jumped on the seat.

I ordered, “Take me for a ride, Mr. Saint Clair.”

He didn’t have to be told twice. For the next hour, we drove all over the woods. We were back to being those kids again. The ones who were wild and free. I loved every second of that afternoon with him.

It was perfect.

He was perfect.

Veering off on a secluded road, he drove us back to where I didn’t think he’d go. Right when he parked the snowmobile, he turned me to straddle his waist.

Instantaneously, I remembered all the times we’d talk just like this.

“The more things change,” I stated, “the more they stay the same.”

I looked around the space. We were in our woods, the one where he made the gingerbread house for me for my year anniversary of living there with him.

Except that wasn’t the only thing; it was completely decked out with all the decorations again.

“How did you do this?”

“I had help.”

My eyebrows rose.

“My personal assistant made some calls and found someone for me. She’s been working on it since my plane landed.”

“Nicholas…”

“I knew I’d get you back here, and I had to make sure it’d beright. I’m sorry I didn’t do it myself this time, but I will next year.” He gripped the back of my neck. “And the next year and the following.” Before he softly pecked my lips. “And the next…”

“That’s a lot to commit to.”

“Mm-hmm…”

Clutching onto the side of my face with his other hand, he lightly bit my bottom lip. His hands fell to my ass, gripping it nice and tight.

The memory of him never compared to real life.

I moaned into his mouth, and he groaned into mine.

He fisted my hair by the nook of my neck while his other hand glided down the side of my body.

“Please,” I pleaded against his mouth, fully aware he’d love to hear me beg for it.

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