Page 92 of Holiday Hostilities

“I missed you this week, Olivia.You.”His eyes bore into mine. “And I told myself a million times that I was going to be patient tonight. That I wasn’t going to jump on you and kiss you senseless the second I saw you. Because even though I’ve been going half-crazy the entire drive home thinking about your lips, I wanted to show you that this is more than just physical. That I haven’t just been waiting to get you home, but that I’ve been craving your company as much as touching you. Your laugh as much as your gasps.” He chuckles softly, his minty breath whispering over my lips. “But then, you had to go and wearthis”—his hand fists in my sweater—“and make me lose the last shred of my resolve. I couldn’t help myself, Olivia.”

“Good. I don’t want you to,” I tell him, and his eyes flicker. That crazy luminous green. Those long, dark eyelashes. And within his eyes, a raw, stripped emotion that makes me suck in a breath before his mouth claims mine again.

I expect the kiss to pick up where it left off, for him to devour me wildly, leaving me breathless and gasping and clinging to him.

Instead, he surprises me. He backs me against the front door, one big hand next to my head, the other cupping my face, effectively pinning me in place. His body presses against mine, and I arch into him as he kisses me with what I can only describe as the physical communication of that raw emotion I saw in his eyes.

He kisses me slowly, carefully, but with total dedication to the task. Like we have all the time in the world, but that’s not enough. Each movement of his lips is fraught with pure, unbridledfeeling, and it’s somehow impossibly hotter than the frantic kiss we were sharing a moment ago.

Saying everything, all at once, without uttering a single word.

He deepens the kiss, angling my face up, and a strangled, almost anguished noise escapes my throat as his tongue brushes over mine. Seeing stars, I grab him by the lapels of his coat and pull him closer, fully losing myself in him.

I let my hands move over his body, exploring. They trace the shape of his big shoulders, then travel over the planes of his chest and the ridges of his abs. This elicits a delicious shiver from him.

“Livvy.” His stubble scratches my jaw as he presses a kiss to the sensitive skin there. “We should really take this inside.”

“Yeah,” I pant, my fingers sliding under the bottom of his sweatshirt, skimming across his warm, taut stomach. “We should.”

But instead, he makes a deep noise in his throat and moves his mouth back over mine again.

And that’s when the front door opens.

36

AARON

My wildest dream is turning into an unhinged fever nightmare, real fast.

Because honestly, the last person in the world you want to see while you’re locked in a passionate embrace with your dream woman is your freakingmother.

Oh, and bonus points for seeing your grandmother, too.

But, here we are. Somehow.

“Mom,” I gasp in a daze, one hand locked on the doorframe, which I caught literal seconds from tumbling head over heels into my house. Thank the good Lord for my hockey reflexes. My other hand is wrapped tight around Livvy’s lower back, catching her from landing on top of Nonna. “What on earth are you doing here?!”

Mom’s delighted eyes slide from my disheveled form to Olivia’s mussed-up hair and swollen lips and shocked expression. She smiles knowingly. “Surprise!”

“We’re here for Christmas,” Nonna announces, looking as wickedly gleeful as my mother does.

“What?” I choke out as I run my fingers through my hair, which I’m sure is sticking up straight from Olivia locking her fingers in it. Not that I’m complaining.

For the past hour, I’ve been trying to process how amazing it feels to see Olivia again. How I missed her way more than I even thought I would, and was counting down the moments until I could see her again.

Now, I’m additionally trying to process the fact that my mother and grandmother are standing here, right in front of me. “I’m meant to fly to Newark in the morning.”

“Not anymore, you’re not,” Nonna tuts as her wrinkled hands clasp around Olivia’s arm. “Hello, sweetheart, come on in. I’m excited to hear all about this ‘not nobody’ that Aaron keeps going on and on about. Can I expect any great-grandbabies in the near future, may I ask?”

“Pardon me?” Olivia squeaks as Nonna—all five feet and one hundred pounds of her—practically drags her through the front door and down the hallway.

If this wasn’t all so insane, it would be comical. Olivia, in her heeled boots, is about a foot taller than Nonna, and yet, she’s being pulled through the house like a wayward puppy being leash trained.

I step into the entryway in an attempt to free Liv from Nonna’s clutches, but Mom intercepts and pulls me into a huge hug. “So good to see you, my boy.”

“It’s good to see you too, Mom,” I tell her as I try to figure out what the hell is happening, alongside the news that I’m apparently not going home for Christmas.

“Sorry we didn’t make it to your game. Tonight’s flight was the only one before Christmas Day with two seats left.”

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