Page 20 of The Santa of the Mountain

“Better?” he rasps.

I try to respond but I’m so discombobulated that I can’t speak. I shake my head. I nod. I grunt because I can’t deal with what just happened.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he says as he gets up. “Now I want to hear how you came to be on my doorstep.”

I swallow. I shake my head, blinking as I watch him grab his mug and take a seat in his armchair again.

“You know a convo like that usually happens before you stick your tongue in someone else’s mouth.”

I can’t believe he’s acting so nonchalantly. Like he didn’t just kiss me. Did he kiss me? Does that count as a first kiss? I don’t know what to call that but my body’s reacting like it wants more. A lot more.

“Is that what I did?” There’s that smile. The disarming, dazzling smile that makes my stomach and chest ripple with electricity. “That was your tongue. And only my lips.” He takes a sip of his tea. “You’ll know when I use my tongue.”

He lets out a deep, satisfying sigh.

Ooookay, Santa Claus. I reposition myself on the couch and then again because I can’t find a comfortable position anymore. Each time I move I feel a jolt. A burst. Another delicious pulse.

“Is that so?”

He nods, grunts, and stares. Penetrating and intense. He’s looking at me in a way I’ve always wanted to be looked at. And I’m thinking this won’t be the last time.

“Tell me, Kate. Do you have a man?”

6

COLE

The words comeout before I think, and it’s not the first time. I’m losing control, and that’s not like me.

“A man?” she asks.

“Boyfriend,” I clarify. “Because I don’t see a ring on your finger.”

It was the first thing I checked when I was removing her gloves. If she was my girl, I’d never let her leave my sight. I’d protect her with my dying breath, come back to life, and do it all over again.

“You’re observant,” she says.

I am when it comes to you. There’s not a part of you I haven’t noticed. And as I let my eyes dip low, there’s more that I want to explore. And taste…

“And I don’t,” she says. “I’m as single as they come.”

“Good,” I say, again without thinking.

She snorts. “Good?”

“Now I don’t have to kill the man who let you wander into that blizzard. Because Kate, a man who can’t protect his woman, is no man.”

She moves again on the couch and the sweater I gave her slides off her shoulder. A few more inches and I’m not sure how I’d react. I’m already losing it with her so close.

“Well, I was on a date.”

Motherfu—“Where is he?” I growl, the leather of my armchair creaking as my fingers dig in.

She smiles and it calms me down. “I don’t know, but it wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t my fault either. It was all Rudolph’s fault. He led me and his sleigh into the woods.”

“The red-nosed reindeer?” I have no idea what she’s talking about, and I’m wondering if she’s still feeling a little feverish.

“The geriatric Clydesdale. It was supposed to be a romantic one-horse open sleigh ride, but it was not. Although,” she says, mulling something over. “It’s not all Rudolph’s fault. I’m putting most of the blame on the band of churlish chipmunks that spooked him.”

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