Page 13 of Dad Bod's Daring December

I can’t help but smile as the festive spirit sweeps away her cares, and she dances with a childlike abandon that’s contagious. It’s as if she’s shedding the fear and caution she brought from Vegas, her laughter filling the space between us, soft and full of life.

I get swept up in it, dancing along despite my usual reluctance. The self-consciousness doesn’t disappear entirely, but with her hand in mine and her delight so genuine, it’s smaller, quieter, as though it’s no match for the light she brings into the room.

As the song fades into a mellower tune,I’ll Be Home for Christmas, something inside me shifts. The melody seems to reach out, luring me forward, guiding my hands to rest on her waist, drawing her close. Her body fits against mine with an ease that should surprise me but doesn’t. We move together, slow and gentle, each step like coming home. I catch myself humming along, my voice low as if singing to her alone.

It’s new to me, dancing with a woman who stirs up a storm within my chest, a mixture of emotions I’d all but forgotten. Thoughts about duty and the weight of past mistakes drift awayas I lose myself in the moment, in the feel of her in my arms. Maybe falling in love isn’t such a distant concept after all.

The song ends, and I’m reluctant to let go. But as we pause, I realize we’ve stopped beneath a sprig of mistletoe, delicately tied with a red bow, hanging innocently overhead.

Ember glances up, a playful glint in her eyes, her lips curling in a smile that makes my heart stutter. “You know,” she says, her voice a soft chime, “it’s bad luck not to kiss under the mistletoe.”

Is it? I’ve never been one for superstitions, but as she stands there, hope glimmering in her gaze, I’m unable to refuse.

Leaning down, I press my lips to hers, starting with a tenderness that makes her hum with happiness. But the sweetness quickly ignites into something deeper, a fiery passion that surprises us both. The kiss sears straight to my soul, a revelation of desire and connection, and I know that I’ve crossed a line I can’t come back from.

When we finally break apart, breathless, I stare down at her, need burning through every cell. “I’m not sure about luck, but I’d certainly accept more kisses from you.”

Her cheeks flush with a rosy hue, her lips still tinged with the promise of more. Leaning closer, she whispers the words that send my heart racing even faster.

“Take me home, Edward.”

“Home,” I echo, the word taking on an entirely new meaning.

With her hand in mine, the promise of what’s to come fills me with a heady combination of anticipation and wonder. Could this Christmas be the one that changes everything?

Silence fills the car as I drive us toward our homes. Ember is so quiet beside me that I wonder if she’s changed her mind, if perhaps the magic of the evening momentarily clouded her judgment. I want to tell her how much she means to me, how I’ve been holding my breath until this moment. But I keep it inside. If she’s having second thoughts, that’s her right, and I’ll respect it.

But as we reach her driveway, she gets out of the truck humming a Christmas tune, her eyes soft and her smile still lingering from our evening. I walk with her up to her porch, my hands tucked into my pockets as the cold bites at my skin. The festive lights from inside her house spill out, casting a warm glow over the snow, the world still and almost dreamlike around us.

“I should probably get going,” I murmur, reluctant to break the magic that has cocooned us since that kiss under the mistletoe.

“Stay.” Ember’s voice is soft yet insistent, her hand reaching to grasp mine gently.

I look down at her, drinking in the sight of her flushed cheeks and the way her breath comes out in little puffs of white. Desire courses through me, a powerful current that washes away thoughts of duty and past regrets. How can I possibly walk away from this woman who has turned my world upside down in a matter of weeks?

“Come inside,” she says again, her voice a whisper of invitation that tugs at something deep within me.

I nod, wordless, knowing that if I speak, I might shatter the fragile bubble of hope that has enveloped us. Following her lead, I step across the threshold into the warmth of her home. The door swings shut with a soft click, sealing us away from thewinter night. Our breaths mingle in the quiet space, the faint scent of pine and cinnamon wrapping around us.

“Home,” I say quietly, the word carrying a sacred weight in the small sanctuary she’s created.

And for the first time in a long while, I believe it could be. Home isn’t a place; it’s wherever this feeling resides, wherever Ember is. And tonight, that’s right here with her.

Chapter 7

Edward

I meant to seduce her. Lay her on her bed and kiss every inch of her, from her beautiful mouth to the curve of her neck to her soft stomach and beyond. Make her slick enough to take me. Slide inside her, gentle and slow. And as I thrust inside, I intended to stroke her cheek, her hair. Tell her how precious she’s become to me.

I fail.

The moment I close the door behind us and she lifts those trusting russet eyes to mine, lust hits me hard. It’s been riding me for weeks, this need for her. But this is more profound because it grips me all at once. My walls tumble, and I’m suddenly desperate for her. This moment. This woman. The need to be inside her.

Our surroundings seem to amplify the moment, the oak table in the kitchen gleaming with its fresh coat of varnish, the Christmas lights in the living room throwing flickering shadows across her flushed skin. Her cheeks are red. Her nipples are little points pressing through her sweater, begging me to taste them.

I wrap my hand around her nape, bringing her mouth to mine even as she jerks at my jacket and claws at my t-shirt. Our lips land awkwardly, then slant into a seamless kiss.

Ah, fuck. Perfect.

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