Page 20 of Dad Bod Snow Job

Where you are, I don't say, but from the way his breath catches, I think he hears it anyway.

His fingers trace the edge of the van listing, but his eyes stay locked on mine. "You're serious about this? About staying?"

"I know what everyone expects," I say, thinking of Sarah, of my parents' subtle disappointment. "Get a corporate job in the city. Climb the ladder. But that's not me. I spent three years trying to be that person, and it felt like drowning."

Understanding floods his expression. He knows something about expectations, about the weight of other people's dreams.

"Here..." I gesture to encompass the shop, the trees beyond the window, the whole of Riley's Ridge. "Everything feels possible. Even turning a beat-up delivery van into a flower shop on wheels."

"It's not beat-up," he says gruffly, studying the listing more intently. "It's vintage. Good solid construction in these older models, if they're maintained right."

A laugh bubbles up, warm and real. Trust Nico to focus on the mechanical details when I'm basically telling him I want to build a life in his town. But there's something tender in the way he's examining the listing, like he's already planning improvements.

"The refrigeration unit will need updating," he continues, rubbing his jaw. "And the suspension—mountain roads are hell on—" He breaks off, catching my amused expression. "What?"

"Nothing." I step closer, drawn into his orbit like always. "You're cute when you're being all knowledgeable and protective."

His eyes darken. "Protective?"

"Mm-hmm." I straighten his collar, letting my fingers linger. "The way you immediately start planning how to make my dream safer and better. It's sexy."

He catches my hand, his thumb brushing over my knuckles. "You really want this? To put down roots here?"

The vulnerability in his voice makes my heart ache. I think of what Sarah told me once, about Nico always expecting people to leave. About him keeping everyone at arm's length since his parents died, protecting himself by staying alone.

"My roots are already here," I say softly. "They always have been. The city, that corporate life—it was like trying to grow in the wrong soil. But here..."

I take a shaky breath. "Remember last week, when you showed me how to test if a tree was healthy? You said to check the roots, because that's where the strength comes from. That's what Riley's Ridge is for me. What you?—"

His kiss is hungry, possessive, stealing my breath. My hat falls off as his hands tangle in my hair, but I don't care. All that matters is the heat of his mouth, the solid warmth of his body against mine.

The storage room door creaks.

Nico moves faster than I thought possible, putting three feet of space between us just as Tommy pokes his head in. "Boss? We've got a situation with the—oh!" His eyes widen at my disheveled state. "Sorry, I didn't?—"

"What's the situation?" Nico's voice is remarkably steady for someone who was just kissing me senseless.

"The um, the Hendersons' tree. The one they pre-ordered? It won't fit in their car."

"I'll handle it." Nico straightens his shirt, not meeting Tommy's eyes. "Go help Pete with the morning deliveries."

Tommy practically runs from the storage room. As soon as his footsteps fade, I burst into giggles.

"This isn't funny." But Nico's lips twitch. "You're a menace in that costume."

"You love it." I retrieve my hat from where it fell, settling it at a jaunty angle. "So, about the van..."

He runs a hand through his hair, looking torn between kissing me again and lecturing me about vehicle safety. "Let me help. With the van, the business, all of it."

"Really?" I bounce on my toes, making the bell jingle.

"On two conditions." He holds up one finger. "First, you let me check the van thoroughly before you make any decisions."

I nod eagerly. "And second?"

His eyes darken as they sweep over my costume. "You change into something less..."

"Less what?" I step closer, enjoying the way his breath catches.

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