Page 10 of Snowed in with a Grinch

My heart races as he leans in, his lips just shy of mine, and holds. The moment becomes suspended in time, ripe with a possibility that has my entire body screaming for him to domore. I could lean in myself, close the tiny bit of distance between us and take this kiss he’s holding back. But as everything around us fades into a blur, the exotic orchids, the raging storm outside, even the cold creeping through the glass walls of the greenhouse, all seem to do exactly what I am in this breath-catching moment. Waiting. Hoping. As the soft glow from the grow lights catch the green of Sawyer’s eyes, making them seem almost luminescent as they search my face.Please kiss me.

He furrows his brow, and I can see a flicker of uncertainty, as if he's grappling with a decision he doesn’t want to make. His hand comes up, hovering near my face but not quite touching, like he's afraid I might disappear if he moves too quickly. And honestly, I feel much of the same. I can scarcely believe how much I crave the warmth of his lips against mine, and yet I can’t seem tomove. My heart pounds in my chest, daringhimto close the distance. I need him to choose me.

“Sawyer…” I begin, barely able to contain my hopes, my voice coming out as little more than a whisper. But before I can say any more, the alarms finally cease, the silence almost as jarring as the initial sound was.

Sawyer lifts his head and looks around the greenhouse, the sudden quiet pulling us both back into reality. I blink, trying to shake off the dreamy haze that enveloped us.

“Looks like we have things stable. For now.” Sawyer’s hand drops, and with it, my heart sinks just a little. “We'll need to monitor it through the night.”

“We?” I blink again, my heart performing a confused little dance at his choice of words. “You mean, you want me to keep helping?”

His lips twitch at the corners, a hint of that rare smile teasing its way into view. “Seems we make a pretty good team. I couldn't have done this without you, Noelle. Thank you.”

“See what happens when you let people in?” I start gathering the leftover thermal blankets. “Even Christmas-obsessed social media managers have their uses.”

“Leave those. We might need them again.” He guides me toward the door with a gentle hand on my lower back. “Come on. You must be exhausted.”

The warm air of the cabin feels almost refreshingly cool as we step out of the humid greenhouse. The lights I hung earlier make the space feel intimate and cozy now. It finally feels like Christmas.

“You know...” I glance up at the paper mistletoe I'd hung in the kitchen doorway earlier—just a quick sketch, but recognizable enough that when we stand underneath it, I can’t bring myself to let another opportunity to kiss him slip through my fingers. I’m dying here.

He follows my gaze, lips twitching. “Is that…mistletoe?”

“Seems so. Crazy how it just kinda appeared there.”

Sawyer raises an eyebrow. “Just…appeared.”

“We don’t question Christmas magic, Sawyer.” I shrug, trying to ignore how my heart is trying to escape my chest. My fingers fidget with the hem of my ridiculous sweater, needing something to do besides reach for him. “And it's bad luck to ignore mistletoe traditions. Even paper ones.”

“Is that so?” His voice drops to a rough whisper that does delicious things to my insides. One of his hands comes up to cup my face, thumb brushing across my cheek. The calluses on his fingers from working with his plants create a delicious friction against my skin. “Wouldn't want to risk bad luck.”

“Definitely not.” I'm not even sure how I'm forming words with him looking at me like that, like I'm one of his precious orchids he wants to study and cherish. The warmth of his palm against my face makes it hard to think straight. “Not after we just saved your orchids.”

“Absolutely.”

“And especially now that those alarms have finally stopped interrupting us.”

“I don’t think this should be interrupted.”

“Although you don’t have to. I mean…if you don’t want to. I’ll underst?—”

“Noelle?”

“Yes?” The word comes out breathy, wanting.

“Stop talking.”

His mouth crashes into mine, and the world dissolves into sensation. His lips are firm but gentle, coaxing rather than demanding as they move against mine. I melt into him, my hands fisting in his sweater as he deepens the kiss. He tastes like coffee and something uniquely him, and I want more. Need more.

A soft moan escapes me as his tongue traces the seam of my lips, seeking entry. I open for him eagerly, and he groans, the sound vibrating through me as his arm wraps around my waist, pulling me flush against him. My curves fit perfectly against his hard planes, like we were made to come together this way.

Somewhere in the background, a clock chimes. Sawyer pulls back just enough to rest his forehead against mine, both of us breathing heavily as he looks at me with a tenderness that I never would have believed possible when I first crashed into his life.

“Midnight,” he murmurs, his thumb tracing gentle patterns on my cheek. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.” I'm still a bit dazed from the kiss, my lips tingling. “What did you wish for from Santa?”

He studies me for a long moment, his eyes dark with something that makes heat pool in my belly. His gaze traces over my features like he's memorizing them, and I hold my breath, waiting.

---