Page 18 of The Santa of the Mountain

“Carry them around in my suit all day. Couldn’t wash off the scent if I tried. And believe me, I’ve tried.”

“You seem resistant to your family’s calling,” I say, prodding him a little.

“About as resistant as you are to avoiding my question.”

“I’m not so much avoiding it,” I say, taking another deep breath of peppermint steam, “as I am trying to purge it from my memory."

“I’m a good listener,” he says. “And I want to know everything there is to know about Kate Sherman.”

I can’t help but smile. It’s been a long time since someone’s wanted to learn about me and not what I can do for them.

“Well, if that’s the case, you better bring a couple of bowls of that stew. It’s going to be a long night. What time is it anyway?” I ask, finally taking a sip of tea. Piping hot, just the way I like it.

Cole rolls up his sleeve and checks his watch. “A hair past seven.”

“Is that all? It feels well past midnight.”

“Well, I promise after a bowl of my famous stew, you’ll feel like a million bucks.”

“That’s a bold statement.”

“Not as bold as the flavors in my stew.”

I snort. “Now you’re just getting cocky.”

I blush as soon as that last word comes out of my mouth. I know exactly how cocky this man is. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Icontinueto see it each time I close my eyes.

He returns a few moments later with two bowls, setting one in front of me on the coffee table, the other he brings with him to the armchair across from me.

“I’ll let the stew do that talking, and then I’d like you to do some. You’re the most interesting thing that’s happened to me in years.”

“I’m not sure how to take that.”

“However you’d like,” he says, sipping his tea and then cringing at the heat.

I stare at him for a brief moment. Not even Evan showed me this much interest today. All he wanted to talk about was Christmas and himself. I’m not sure if he knew anything more about me than my name.

Cole takes a spoonful of his stew as he kicks his feet up on the coffee table. He blows on it a few times and I swear I feelhis breath on me again. A few moments later he takes it into his mouth, moaning as he leans back.

“Good?” I lean forward and set my tea down, collecting the hefty bowl in front of me.

“I’ll let you be the judge. I don’t want to influence you.” He takes another bite. “Fuuuuuck, this is good.”

I snort. “Yeah, you’re doing a great job of that.”

I watch as he licks his lips and I can’t help but wonder what it would feel like against mine. Across my skin. Lips wrapped around my—no!

Tingles radiate across my skull and down my back as I put the thoughts I shouldn’t be having out of my mind. I need to stop torturing myself. I’m leaving after my sister’s wedding. Cole lives on a mountain. I live in a city apartment. This is not happening.

I scoop a spoonful of Cole’s stew pausing right before I bring it to my lips and blow. I can feel Cole’s gaze burning against my skin. It’s nearly as hot as this stew. I blow once more and then finally, take it into my mouth.

Whoa.Whoa, whoa, whoa!

“Cole,” I moan. I take another spoonful and skip blowing on it—this puppy is going straight into my—phlecgk.The stew flies out of my mouth because it’s a few degrees cooler than molten lava. “I’m sorry,” I whine, taking my mug of tea to my lips and—pffffft.Scaldingtea sprays out of my mouth, following the same fate as my stew.

“Ice,” I say, whimpering.

My mouth feels like it has been raked across hot coals, and the roof of my mouth is peeling like old paint. Ow, ow, OW!

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