Page 7 of Santa's Angel

My breath catches in my throat as Grady kneels before me, snow swirling around us like we’re in the middle of a fairy tale snow globe. But this isn’t a fairy tale. This is my life, and the man I’ve tried so hard to shut out is right here, looking up at me with those hazel eyes that once again have me believe in the possibility of a forever.

The words he just spoke echo in my mind.I’m not walking away this time. I’m here to stay if you’ll have me.

I don’t know what to say. I stare at him, searching his eyes for even the slightest hint of a lie. But all I see is sincerity and raw, honest vulnerability.

“Grady...” I whisper. “I don’t know…I don’t know if this is right for us.”

He stands, brushing the snow from his knees, but he doesn’t step back. Instead, he moves even closer until there’s nothing between us but the misty breath that hovers in the cold air.

“I’m tired of running, Carla,” his voice is soft. “I’ve been running from how I feel about you for years, and it hasn’t gotten me anywhere. You’re all I think about. You’re the one thing I’ve never been able to let go of.”

I blink, trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill over. “You hurt me, Grady,” My voice is barely more than a whisper. “You walked away from me without a word. Do you have any idea what that did to me?”

He winces, and I see pain flash in his eyes. “I know I was a coward,” he admits, his voice breaking. “I was scared—of how much I loved you—terrified of commitment. Panic-stricken thatI was not good enough for you. And in trying to protect you, I hurt you.”

I close my eyes, trying to steady myself, but the tears spill over anyway. His hands cup my face, his thumbs gently brushing away the wetness on my cheeks. His touch is so tender and gentle that it makes my heart ache.

“Let me make it up to you,” he whispers. “Let me prove that I’m not going anywhere this time. I swear, Carla, I’ll spend the rest of my life making up for all the mistakes I made. I love you.”

His words wrap around my heart, squeezing it tight. I’ve been so afraid, so convinced that letting him back in would only lead to more pain. But now, standing here under the mistletoe with snow falling around us, I realize that the only thing scarier than letting him in again... is losing him for good.

I look up at him, my heart hammering against my ribs. “You love me?” I whisper.

His eyes soften, and he leans in, pressing his forehead against mine. “I love you, Angel,” he murmurs, using the nickname that always melts me from the inside out. “If you give me this chance, I’ll never leave you again. Not now, not ever.”

The last of my defenses crumble, crashing down around me like a wall of shattered glass. Before I can second-guess myself, I reach up, thread my fingers through his hair, and pull his mouth to mine. “I love you, too.”

Cradling me in his arms, his tongue glides across mine. Grady groans, his hands sliding down to my waist, pulling me against his body. I open my mouth, savoring the taste of him.

The kiss goes on, moving from sweet to hungry, then back again.

“God, Carla,” he breathes against my lips. “I love you so much. I need you in my life.”

Because I can’t find the right words, I kiss him harder, deeper, pouring everything I can’t say into the way our lips move together. My hands are everywhere—his chest, his shoulders, the strong line of his jaw. It’s not enough. I need more. I needallof him.

Grady pulls back, his eyes dark with desire, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “I’ve got to have you,” he says, his voice thick with need. “Now.”

I nod; my need is a burning ache that can no longer be ignored. “Yes,” I whisper. “Yes.”

Without another word, he scoops me up into his arms, carrying me through the snow toward a nearby gazebo hidden from view by a curtain of twinkling garland. He sets me down gently, his hands sliding under my dress and up my thighs.

The fabric bunches around my hips, his lips leaving a fire trail along my neck, shoulders, and collarbone. I arch into him, my fingers fumbling with the buttons of his pants, desperate to have him inside me.

He sits down on the bench. “Come here, Angel.”

I straddle his hips, my hands grabbing onto his hard shaft and sliding it through my wet core. I place him at my entrance, then sink slowly down until I’m stretched wide. His hands wrap around my hips, holding me tight as we rock together.

“Grady…” I sag against him.

“You feel so good, Angel,” he kisses me. “So good…”

I suck in a breath, stiffening as an orgasm washes over me. The sound of his ragged breaths makes me shiver.

And in that moment, surrounded by snow and mistletoe, I finally let go. I let myself believe in second chances, in the magic of Christmas, and this time…I know that this is for real.

Epilogue

Carla

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