Page 16 of The Santa of the Mountain

She takes her bottom lip into her mouth and damn if it isn’t the sexiest thing. Although the more time I spend with her, I’m sure I’ll find something even sexier.

“I’ll take that sweater off your hands,” I say, the music nothing more than a murmur now. The light’s flickering like dying embers.

She reaches for the bottom edge and pulls.Fuuuuuuck….There it is. Something even sexier. As Kate pulls the sweater overher head, she reveals a nice little stomach. A belly I’d like to fill with my—I rub my face roughly.

Stew. Stew is all I’d like to fill her belly with and nothing else.

“Here you go,” she says, shoving it into my hands before heading into the bedroom. “Might want to turn around,” she says over her shoulder. “Everything’s about to come off.”

Jesus.Jesus.I need this girl like I need air in my lungs.

“Fair warning,” she says, teasing the waistband of her jeans as mine stretch painfully between my legs.

“I’ll leave you to it,” I grit out because I know she’s messing around.

I step back, and then shut the door, imagining every bit of clothing being stripped from her lithe body. And when I hear her clothes hit the floor I take her sweater to my face and huff. I breathe in again and again, savoring her scent. Needing her scent. It’s like it’s unlocking a part of me that’s been dormant my entire life.

Awakened. I’m not letting this sweater go. I’m not letting her go. Kate’s mine. It’s only a matter of time before she finds out.

5

KATE

Did I just say that?Do that?

He thinks I was joking, but I wasn’t. Iwantedhim to watch me and that’s not like me. Not at all. I’ve never even considered doing anything remotely like that. But there’s something about him that has me craving his attention. Craving his eyes on my body. His hands on me. His… dearlord!I need to pull myself together.

I’m chalking my lapse in judgment—ahem,continued lapse in judgment—to this terrible day and my acute delirium from fighting through a blizzard. I’m still reeling from everything because there’s no way I’d ever undress in front of a stranger fifteen minutes after I’d met him, even though he looks like Santa Claus.

Especiallywhen he looks like Santa Claus.

Well, the white beard, costume, and last name are the only things Santalike about him.Kringle.I still think he’s messing with me. But for some reason, I don’t mind because the rest of the package is… well, let’s just say he’s igniting a little more than Christmas spirit inside me. And if there’s mistletoe somewherein this cabin, I’m not above hanging it over his head. If I could reach that high…

I’ve never met a Santa with tattoos, muscles as hard and big as boulders, and a ruggedly handsome face that warms me up quicker than the raging fire. God, the way he held my hands.Blewon them? I thought I was going to melt right there, pooling into an amorphous blob of nerve endings and need.

I pull on Cole’s sweatpants. Keep pulling. And pull some more because these things are as baggy as Santa’s suit. They’re massive.He’smassive as if it wasn’t apparent enough.

I close my eyes, picturing the outline of something massive between his legs. I didn’t mean to look. I’d turned around because I couldn’t believe that I might be stuck here for a few days. ForChristmas.But as I slide onto the bed, swimming in Cole’s sweatpants, I wonder if it would be so bad.

It’s not like I’m having the best Christmas ever. At the rate it I’m going, I’m pretty sure this will been in the running for the worst Christmas ever. Worse than the gingerbread debacle when I was twelve and nearly burned down our house.

Spending Christmas with a stranger who knows nothing about me sounds delightful in comparison to spending it with my family who knows my flaws, reminds me of them every time I’m around, and makes me question whether I’ll ever be enough. There’s always something more they want from me.

I sigh, pulling up my big mountain man pants, and then slip into Cole’s sweater. It falls below my knees and I can’t help but think I look more like a toddler trying on their parents’ clothes than a full-grown, capable adult woman who pays her bills on time. And when I look in the mirror, I can’t help but laugh.

“Are you serious?” I mutter waving my arms as sleeves that would be baggy on my legs hang loosely. My pants fall again, so I pull them back up, tugging the drawstring until the waistband is taut and wrinkly. After looping it around my waist and tyinga knot behind my back, there’s a fifty-fifty chance they stay up. I wouldn’t mind if Cole helped me find a solution. Maybe they stay off permanent-ohmygod,I’m doing it again.

But as I stare at my reflection, I realize there’s no chance of anything happening with me wearing this. It’s about as much of a boner killer as a sledgehammer to the balls.

After slipping on a pair of socks that are about as long as stockings and a knit hat so large I could hide my mother’s Christmas spiral ham inside, I head for the door, wondering what my excessively large host has in store for me. I’m hoping this turns out a little better than the last eight or so hours. And when I open the door, I think it might.

Speaking of hams… I’m staring at two ham hocks as Cole leans over, tending to the wood stove in the living room. I’mtransfixed. I can’t say I’ve ever looked at a man’s butt for this long, but I also can’t say I’ve met a man as large as Cole before. Everything about him is larger than life, and I’m hoping whatever he’s doing takes a little while so I can?—

“Clothes work for you?” Cole asks, his back still turned.

I swallow. The man has a sixth sense made especially for me.

“You could say that. Think you have something bigger?”

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