Page 11 of Snowed in with a Grinch

“You,” he whispers, the single word filled with such raw honesty it makes my heart skip. His fingers thread through my hair, cradling the back of my head as he pulls me closer. “Just you.”

SAWYER

Her lips are addictive. Sweet and warm and perfect against mine as I pull her closer, needing to feel every soft curve pressed against me. She tastes like holiday spices and promise, her mouth moving against mine with an eagerness that makes my head spin as my fingers thread through her hair, reveling in its silken texture.

Her hands slide up my chest, and I groan at the contact, even through the ridiculous sweater she convinced me to wear. The sound seems to encourage her, her fingers curling into the fabric as she presses closer, fitting against me like she was made for my arms. Everything about her drives me crazy—the little whimpers she makes when I deepen the kiss, the way she melts into me like she belongs there, how perfectly the curves of her body align with mine.

The scent of her surrounds me, and I want to drown in it, in her. My hand slides down her back, drawing her even closer as my tongue traces the seam of her lips, seeking more of her addictive taste. She opens for me with a soft sigh that I feel in my very bones, and I know in this moment that I'm already in too deep.

Then the lights flicker and die, leaving us with only the battery operated Christmas lights and the fire for illumination.

“Damn it.”

Noelle pulls back with a soft laugh. “Let me guess. Back to the greenhouse?”

“Close.” I rest my forehead against hers, reluctant to let go. “Generator room. It's outside.”

“Of course it is.” She shivers slightly as I step away. “Good thing I brought snow boots.”

I grab flashlights from a drawer, handing her one before shrugging into my coat, then helping her with hers. “Stay close. The path gets tricky in the dark.”

“Don't worry.” She takes my hand, twining our fingers together. “I'm not going anywhere you aren’t.”

When I open the front door, a blast of frigid air bursts in. The snow is almost up to my waist, and I have to slide out on my stomach to get free. When I turn back to Noelle, she’s already shivering.

“Maybe you should just stay inside.”

She laughs and shakes her head, snowflakes already catching in her eyelashes. “And miss out on you seeing me try to wriggle my way out like I'm a seal on a snowbank? Where's the fun in that?”

I laugh as I offer her my hand and help her over the piled-up snow. Her fingers are already cold against mine, making me want to pull her close and warm her up. The storm itself has calmed somewhat, but snow still falls heavily around us, creating a curtain of white that makes the world feel smaller, more intimate.

“This way,” I say once we're on our feet. The path is hidden under fresh powder, and when Noelle's foot slides on an icy patch, I catch her against my chest. She fits perfectly there, herback pressed to my front, and for a moment we both freeze, aware of every point of contact between us.

“Sorry,” she whispers, but makes no move to pull away. Her breath forms little clouds in the frigid air.

“Don't be.” Reluctantly, I help her find her footing, but keep her close, one arm around her waist as we continue forward.

Noelle's flashlight beam bounces ahead as she hooks her arm through mine and we trudge ahead together. The wind whips around us, driving us closer together with each step. Snow clings to her hair, making her look like some kind of winter fairy.

“So this is what you do up here full time?” she asks as I dig out enough space so I can unlock the generator shed. “Chase after temperamental machinery in snowstorms?”

“Among other things.” When the door swings open, the smell of oil and metal greets us. The small space feels even smaller with her presence, her vanilla-cinnamon scent mixing with the industrial aromas. I immediately move to check the circuits, my hands working automatically through the startup sequence, though my awareness is entirely focused on her movements behind me.

“Other things... Like, cultivating rare orchids and pretending to be a grump?” Her teasing tone makes my lips twitch. She moves closer, peering over my shoulder at what I'm doing. The warmth of her body radiates against my back, and I have to concentrate to keep my hands steady.

“Can you look inside that tool box and pass me the screwdriver with the red handle?” I ask, focusing on the generator's flickering lights rather than how her body brushes against mine as she moves around the tight space.

“Sure.” She rummages through the toolbox, her flashlight beam dancing around the dark corners until she finds what she's after. When she hands it to me, her fingers wrap around mine. “You're not very good at it, you know.”

“Not good at what?” I ask, getting back to work.

“The grumpy part—your orchids are amazing.”

I glance up at her. “What makes you say that?”

“Well, for one thing, you kiss like a man who definitely doesn't hate company.”

My hands still. “Noelle...”

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