Page 63 of A Merry Mountain Christmas

“You’ll do it?” she asks, as excited as if I’d announced I wanted to go caroling in costume.

“Sure,” I say, one corner of my mouth hitching up. “Because you twisted my arm. But why do you care so much?”

“My mother would say that I care way too much about other people’s business and too little about my own.”

I’m close enough to touch her, and I don’t deny the desire any more. I tell myself I’m just doing it because she needs cheering up, but only a fool believes his own lies. Tipping up her chin slightly, I look into her big blue eyes. “And what wouldyousay?”

She doesn’t flinch or look away, her gaze soaking into mine, her proximity making my skin feel like it’s buzzing. Her skin is warm and soft against mine, and I have a moment of self-consciousness. I know my hands are callused from building cars. From odd jobs. I try to pull away, but she lifts her other hand to mine, keeping it there.

“I’d say that I like you, even if I shouldn’t. I’ve been worried about you.”

“You don’t need to worry about me, Princess,” I say, but I don’t try moving my hand from her jaw. I find myself tracing the shape of it, the rest of my body inching closer. “I’m the last person you need to worry about.”

“I think you’re exactly the person I need to worry about,” she says. “If you don’t open up to anyone, who helps you carry the weight?”

I smile at her because I can’t help it.“Right now, I guess you are. Why go to that much trouble for someone you barely know, Kennedy?”

“Because I’d like to know you,” she says, as my fingers reach up to stroke her cheeks, to soak in a little more of her. “Truth. What’s your passion, Rowan?”

Right now, my passion is Kennedy Littlefield. But I know that’s not what she means. “Making model cars.” I curse as soon as the words come out, immediately feeling like an idiot. “It’s stupid.”

“It’s not. You mentioned it to me the other day, but you didn’t tell me much. I’d like to know more.”

“They’re toys.”

“I didn’t know you liked kids,” she says with delight.

“I don’t,” I blurt, letting my hand drop. Then I instantly shrug. “Okay, I sort of do. I like the way kids see the world. I like that they haven’t been put into boxes yet, like the rest of us.”

She smiles. “I’d like to see some of your cars.”

I don’t plan on it. I just do it, which is maybe the story of my life. I lean in and kiss Kennedy, because even though I don’t want to need her, something inside of me does. She lets out a little gasp of surprise, and I swallow it, but it only takes her a second to wrap her arms around me and draw me closer. She’s sweet like that damn cookie, and I want her so much it physically pains me. I can’t remember ever wanting another woman this much.

It’s because of what happened while she was around, I tell myself. But I don’t really believe it. I deepen the kiss, because I want to forget the stupid voice in my head, and I really want to forget the six men competing to marry her. Hell, I want to make her forget it too, so I deepen our kiss, weaving a hand into her long hair so I can bring her closer—and because I have a bone-deep need to feel the silky strands wound between my fingers again.

Her breasts are pressed to my chest, the sweet sensation adding to my fire, making me want to strip that shirt off of her,because there’s no way in hell she’s wearing a bra. I feel like a fool for not doing that last time, when I had her splayed out before me. I could have had something else to think about at night.

She pulls away, her lips pink. “Is this a way to avoid showing me your cars? Because I still want to see them.”

“Maybe,” I say with a smirk. But to my surprise, I want to show her the damn cars.

I take out my phone, flinching when I see there are two missed calls from Oliver. “Shit,” I say, showing her the screen.

Her eyes go wide. “Harry.”

She checks the phone he left her with shaking hands, then shows me the screen.

Oliver:Hey, man, did you get held up?

Oliver:Where are you?

Oliver:Okay, Harry. I can take a hint. You could have just said no, you know.

“Rowan,” she says, her voice full of terror. “He was looking forward to this date. A lot. He never would have stood Oliver up.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

ROWAN

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