Page 25 of Second Chances with St. Nick

Nick ended our kiss. As our lips parted, he brought his hands to my shoulders and studied my face.

“What? Has my mascara run?”

“No. Hold still.” Nick ran his thumb gently over my cheek then, with the sexiest smile known to womankind, brought it to his lips. He licked the tip. “Icing sugar.”

I brought a hand to my face. “Oh, crap, am I covered in it? I probably look like a mess.”

Nick raked his eyes over me, shaking his head. “Absolutely not. You look gorgeous. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so charming.”

At his words, a flash of heat ran through me, like I’d been struck by lightning. “Damn! I almost forgot to give you your Christmas present.”

He huffed a soft laugh. “No, you didn’t. I’m holding it. And it's perfect. Just what I always wanted.”

Nick leaned in to kiss me again, but I held my hand to his chest. “No, I have something else for you.” I dug into the hidden pocket in the side of my dress.

Nick widened his eyes. “You have pockets in there? I’m sorry, I assumed someone sewed you into that gown. You look incredible.” He brought his mouth to my neck, trailing feather-light kisses behind my ear. With his touch, all thoughts of presents and Christmas left my brain, as my nerve endings sparked to life. Hell, he knew exactly how to distract me. But I had something that belonged to him. Something I wanted to return.

“Nick.”

“Mmm?”

“We shouldn’t. Someone could walk in.”

He paused, lips hovering millimeters from my skin. “I have every faith in you.”

“Sorry, what?”

“I’m sure you could take an intruder down with those nutcrackers in a second.”

I giggled, drawing a small silk bag from my pocket. I took one of Nick’s hands and placed it in his palm. “Here, I wanted you to have this back.”

Nick examined the bag, quirking a brow. After a beat, he pulled open the drawstring and tipped out the contents. The music-note charm he’d given me, so many years ago, lay against his calloused palm. I’d kept it on the gold chain that belonged to my grandfather.

He flipped the charm over, running his finger over the metal. “Isn’t this…?”

I nodded. “I thought you might like it back. I hope you like it.”

The apples of his cheeks raised, and his eyes sparkled. “I love it. Thank you.”

Nick leaned in and gave me a lingering kiss on my forehead. “But what can I get you?”

Try a lifetime of watching him chop wood and keeping me warm at night. With a smile, I wrapped my arms around his waist. “You don’t need to get me anything.”

“Oh, I think I do.” Nick smiled and secured the charm around his neck.

“Well, you could book me in for a tattoo. One to match your special heart.”

His eyes sparked. “I don’t know, Abbie. A tattoo is pretty permanent.”

I grinned. “I’ll take my chances.”

He swept me up in his arms again, kissing me gently. “What kind of tattoo would you get?”

“I don’t know. Something to remind me of you.”

“Maybe an axe?”

My mind lingered on the memory of the wood splitting demonstration he’d given me yesterday at his cabin. I wasn’t sure an axe was really my style, but I was more than ready to sit through a million wood-chopping lessons, should he require.

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