Page 22 of Candy Canes & Peppermint Kisses

Blythe

Three hourslater and the last family was being ushered out of the department store. The staff was busy doing some final touches, and I heard they would finish up cleaning and tearing things down tomorrow before the store opened.

And here I was, very, very aware of the fact that Logan spent any free time he had looking in my direction. Because of the role I played at the event, I had to stand by his side the entire time, a basket of candy canes in my hand, handing one to each child after they were done telling him what they wanted for Christmas.

I was very aware of the feel of his body so close to mine, of his heat penetrating me, how my skin felt tight, how my breathing had been so damn erratic. I tried to play it off like I was fine, adjusting the curly white wig on my head, the red bonnet that sat on top of it. I tried to do everything, focus on anything else that wasn’t him. But that was like trying to not notice a giant elephant stomping through a China store.

I excused myself as I went to the back room to change and get out of this godforsaken outfit. Before I stepped inside, I looked over my shoulder and saw that, yup, Logan was looking right at me. His expression was positively… scorching.

There was this look in his green eyes, one that held a hell of a lot of promise. I wasn’t sure what that promise was, but I knew what I wanted it to be.

After shutting myself in the back room, I busied myself with putting my street clothes on. I hung up the costume and then looked at myself in the mirror. I was dressed like I was in damn Antarctica, but then again, Montana this time of year was frigid. My jeans were form-fitting, tucked into my UGG boots.

My shirt was white cashmere, a present my mother had gotten me last year for the holidays. It certainly wasn’t something I could have ever afforded, so I wore it on special occasions… and I hoped tonight would be averyspecial occasion.

It was form-fitting, accenting my breasts, making them look a little bigger than they really were. I buttoned up my red peacoat, the wool soft and thick, the color bright like blood when it hits oxygen. I was starting to sweat, but it didn’t have anything to do with my layers and everything to do with the arousal pumping through my veins.

I didn’t know what was happening to me, but I’d been on this perpetual ledge of arousal ever since my first meeting with Logan. And that had been how long ago? It seemed equal parts a lifetime ago and just the other day. I closed my eyes and breathed out slowly, trying to catch my breath, failing miserably.

I exhaled, feeling weak and far too shy, because I knew I couldn't make the first move where Logan was concerned. I resolved myself that tonight I was going to stop by the grocery store, grab a big bottle of wine, a tub of ice cream, take a scolding hot bubble bath, and pout about why I didn’t just go for it with Logan.

He might watch me, and I definitely felt sexual, attracted vibes coming from him, but I was far too scared to be the “aggressor.”

A bubble bath and getting drunk wasn’t what I particularly wanted to do tonight. What I really wanted to do was the man outside currently dressed as Santa. But I wasn’t going to let my thoughts go that way. Nope. Negative. Hard pass. Although it seemed my body had other plans as sexual thoughts of him slammed through me.

I felt my body warm, soften. My nipples tingled, my pussy wet. My body prepared itself for what was most definitely not going to happen—not tonight, at least.

I moved away from the mirror and headed toward the door to leave, telling myself I’d make a beeline right to the front door and leave without one backward glance. I didn’t want to be trapped in his stare again, snared by the ferocious look in his eyes or the heat from his big, powerful body.

I focused on the ground, people milling all around, a holiday song softly playing overhead, my mind and body at war about leaving because I knew Logan was here. I was thankful I’d opted to take an Uber to the department store, not wanting to deal with the crowd and the steady snow falling since this morning. My mind was so wrapped up in Logan that I wouldn’t have been able to concentrate on driving if I’d taken my own car to Morton’s.

And then my body was stopped, the massive chest in front of me like a wall of solid rock.

I gasped and stumbled back, my feet twisting out from under me. I knew I was falling, that the ground would come up fast, embarrassment the main worry I had. But then I felt strong hands grip my waist and steady me. I was being lifted up like I weighed nothing. On instinct, my hands landed on the chest, my fingers curling into the hardness. God, it was like iron under my nails.

I knew it was Logan before even lifting my gaze to his face. I smelled his cologne, or maybe it was just his natural scent. Either way, it made me feel drunk with need and want. I was dizzy, excited, so breathless that when I did lift my focus to his eyes, I couldn’t catch my breath.

And then I was looking into a pair of deep-green eyes. My breath faltered.

I’ve been looking for you.

I’ve been thinking about you.

So much. So, so much.

I want you.

Thank God I was with it enough not to blab that out loud.

I took a step back and inhaled deeply, trying to find my center, trying not to look like I was totally aroused right now. Which I was, but that was beside the point.

“Hey,” he said, and I shivered—yeah… actually freaking shivered at the way his voice moved over my body.

“Hi.” I lifted my hand in a wave and promptly clenched my jaw and closed my eyes as I instantly felt like an idiot. When I opened my eyes again, I felt how hot my cheeks were, but it wasn’t my embarrassment that had my breath stalling. It was the way he looked at me.

So. Intently.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” he said and then exhaled, as if he’d been holding his breath this whole time.

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