Page 19 of A Very Grumpy Christmas

He unlocks the door and ushers me in ahead of him. I scan his place, as I take off my jacket, hat, and mittens, taking in the mostly bare living room and kitchen.

“Nice place.”

“Thanks.”

He turns on some lights, and I wander further into the house.

“Want the tour?” He asks, and I nod. “Well, you’ve already seen the living room and kitchen.”

I nod. “Very nice.”

He takes my hand, and we head down the long hallway.

“This is the guest bathroom,” he says, nudging the first door open. “And this is the first guest bedroom…and the second,” he says, pushing open the next two doors. “And this… is my room.”

I step into his room, and the tension between us grows as I wander closer to the king-size bed. The bed is neatly made, the corners of the dark blue comforter perfectly folded down, and I wonder if that was a habit that he always had or if he picked it up in the military.

“I like it.”

“You can change anything that you don’t like about the house,” he says instantly.

I laugh, thinking that he’s joking, but I turn to see him watching me with a serious look on his face.

“Wait, what?”

“Ginger,” he starts, his voice low and rough. “I need to tell you something.”

I nod, starting to get nervous as he shifts. He looks so anxious and I wonder what it is that he has to tell me.

“I... I’ve been falling in love with you,” he tells me, the words coming out in a rush, like they’ve been trapped inside him for too long. “For a long time now.”

My eyes widen, but not in shock.

“I love you,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “I just needed you to know.”

“I do know,” I tell him. “I know, and I love you too. So much.”

“So much?” He asks quietly, and I nod.

“So much.”

For a moment, there’s silence. Then, without warning, he leans forward, his lips crashing against mine in a kiss that’s filled with everything—every unspoken word, every emotion we’ve both been holding back all these months.

It’s soft at first, tentative, like we’re testing the waters, but then something shifts. His hands tangle in my hair, pulling me closer, and I feel the heat between us ignite like a spark catching flame. I kiss him back with everything I have, pouring months of longing into every movement, every touch.

My body presses against his, and I feel him groan against my lips, the sound sending a rush of heat through me. His hands slide down to my waist as we deepen the kiss, my heart pounding in my chest. He feels so good, soright.

We break apart for air, our breaths coming in ragged gasps, and when I look into his dark blue eyes, I see everything—desire, love, tenderness, all mixed together in a way that makes my heart swell.

“I love you, Kip,” I whisper as his forehead rests against mine. “I think I’ve loved you from your first letter.”

We kiss again, slower this time, more deliberate, like we’re savoring the moment. My hands roam over his chest, and I feel his pulse quicken, the heat between us growing with every passing second. I wonder if he can feel me trembling slightly as my fingers tighten in his shirt.

The kiss deepens, passion flaring hot and fast between us, and I lose myself in him—his touch, his scent, the sounds he makes as he holds me close. Nothing else matters. It’s just us here in this moment, and I never want it to end.

Kip’s hands slide down to my hips and toy with the hem of my sweater. I hum against his lips in agreement and a moment later, he’s slipping the soft wool sweater over my head and tossing it aside. We stare at each other, both of us breathing hard. The lust is palpable in the air around us, and I feel like I’m burning up alive as he stares at me.

“I want you so fucking bad, Ginger,” he whispers, and I swallow hard and nod.

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