Page 51 of Flake It Til You Make It

Rocco stiffened. Wondered if they also thought of him as ‘some weird foreign thing’ even though his family had been citizens for four generations.

“There’s plenty of that here,” Taylor said firmly, quietly. “So better get used to it.”

“Not when I grew up here, there wasn’t.” Steve’s tone was still friendly, but casual, but Rocco knew neither he nor Taylor were particularly happy.

Rocco wasn’t particularly familiar with this town yet, he’d only been here a few months, but he had a feeling Steve didn’t really remember what Christmas Falls had been like, because for a town that celebrated nostalgia, it also embraced so many different kinds of people and traditions. And that didn’t seem like a particularly new thing.

“We’ll have to agree to disagree,” Taylor finally said politely.

“Steve,” Mrs. Gucci Boots whined, “I see Heath over there. Let’s go over and chat.”

He gave his wife an indulgent smile, sent a frostier one in Taylor and Rocco’s direction, and thank God, they were gone.

“That freaking guy,” Taylor muttered after he’d grabbed them two paper cups of hot chocolate. Rocco took one and sipped, not even minding the weak flavor because he was too preoccupied with how upset Taylor was.

“He’s shitty, for sure,” Rocco agreed. “But punching him in the face isn’t going to get you the job you want, unfortunately.”

“Unfortunately,” Taylor grumbled. He glanced over at Rocco. “It’s getting late. I know you get up early . . .”

“We can head back,” Rocco said, hiding his disappointment that the evening had ended on such a low note. He took another long drink of his hot chocolate as they headed out of Sugar Plum Park.

Taylor didn’t say anything as they walked down Candy Cane Lane. Stewing, Rocco assumed, in silence. He needed to dosomethingto drag Taylor out of this angst. Because angsting about it wasn’t going to change anything, and what hewasdoing, getting out into the town and showing them who Taylor Hallreallywas, was actually giving him the best chance to get the job.

A stray snowflake dropped down to his cheek, and Rocco brushed it away. But it gave him the idea. On the next block, he tossed his empty paper cup into the trash and then leaned down, gathering a handful of snow in his gloved hand and before he could think better of it, tossed it right at Taylor.

It glanced off his shoulder, spraying snow into his face, and his jaw dropped.

“What? Are you serious?” Taylor gasped.

Rocco laughed, the sound startled out of him by the shock on Taylor’s face.

Taylor couldn’t believe Rocco had just thrown a snowball at him and thenlaughedabout it. But then, maybe he could. Because the look on his face was all playful heat.

Hot enough to melt whatever snow Taylor might toss his way.

Leaning down, he grabbed a handful of the softest snow and a second later, Rocco was still laughing but spluttering too as he wiped his face off.

“Oh, baby, it’s on now,” he called out and Taylor wasn’t stupid. He ran, ducking back into the coverage of some of the trees on the edge of the park, Rocco right on his heels, pelting snowballs at his back. He chanced looking back and got a mouthful of snow that he hoped was at least clean-ish. Scooped up some more and hopefully gave back as good as he got.

But right after he did, Rocco shocked another breathless laugh right out of him by tackling him right to the ground, their landing softened by a snow drift.

Rocco was strong, but Taylor wasn’t a slouch, and he turned them, flipping Rocco, and then letting Rocco wrestle himself back on top.

Taylor froze as Rocco leaned down, laughter spilling out of his mouth and mischief glowing in his eyes. He’d lost his hat somewhere, and his curls were messed up.

You could mess them up even further.

God, he wanted to.

Pulling together all his strength, he turned them again, and before he could think—or overthink—he tucked Rocco into the snowbank and kissed him.

The desire to do it was a fire in his blood, but doing it once, their lips finally meeting, didn’t do anything to extinguish the need.

Instead, it flared hot and sweet between them, Rocco groaning as he pushed up into the kiss, his hands on Taylor’s back, trying to pull him in closer.

He’d imagined it might be good. After all, they were young and attracted, and it had been awhile for both of them—alongwhile for Taylor, though he was under no delusions that Rocco’s dry spell equaled his own.

Not when Rocco looked like he did.

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