Page 8 of A Gingerbread Romance

She nodded agreeably, with a steady glance up at him. “It is.”

Greta still hadn’t shared too many concrete details about herself, not even exactlywhereshe worked, but that was fine with him. He hadn’t, either. He knew that a lot of women tried to keep their distance on a first date with a stranger they’d met online. Although she’d asked him to walk her home, so she must not be too wary of him anymore.

That was good.

Greta slowed as they reached a walkway in front of a beautiful, old Victorian home. “This is me.”

He stopped and looked at the house, his jaw dropping open. “Wait, you livehere?” The place looked like it should be on the national registry of historic homes, with its three stories of decorative woodwork, its large and imposing façade, and its steep, gabled roofs, turrets, and towers. It had to be well over a hundred years old, although, as well maintained as it was, you’d never guess. He’d noticed it each time he’d driven by.

“Yes. It’s my grandmother’s, actually. It’s much too big for the two of us, but she’s not ready to give up the house yet, so I pay part of the mortgage and help her with the upkeep.”

“Can’t say I blame her,” said Jonathan, his eyes fixed on the scene. “Can I walk you to the front door? I love old houses.”

He’d always had a fascination with architecture. It was one of the reasons he’d gone into real estate, and Victorian mansions were one of his favorites. Baltimore had several. His Aunt Linda called them gingerbread houses or life-sized doll houses.

“Sure.” She pulled him gently toward the house, her arm still in his as they walked down the walk that wound through the yard, separate from the driveway. Some of the trees in the yard, as well as the house itself, had been decorated with soft white lights. Holly, garland, and red ribbons donned the railings and the door. “So, what do you think?”

He nodded appreciatively. “I think it’s gorgeous. And hey,” he said, smiling, “This place has serious curb appeal. You do know that, don’t you?”

Greta grinned, nodding. “Thanks. We like it.”

They reached the front porch, and he turned to her after a quick look around. “So, I had a really great time tonight,” he started.

“I did, too.” Her gaze met his, those big green eyes and long lashes sweeping his features and making him sweat even in the cold.

She liked him, didn’t she? As much as he liked her. He could feel it. She was probably hoping he’d ask her out again.

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his overcoat to keep himself from reaching for her. For an instant, he wanted to run his fingers through the long waves of her golden-brown hair, which trailed over the fuzzy scarf around her neck. “Thanks for coming out tonight.”

“Thankyou. I had a…really great time.”

“Can I see you again?” He couldn’t help himself.

She nodded. “Sure. I’d like that,” she said quietly.

His pulse quickened. Every instinct inside of him was telling him to reach for her.

“Greta,” he said softly, his throat dry.

She stared up at him, her head tilted to one side in a question. “Yes?”

His eyes fell on her lips, so glossy, so perfect. “Can I kiss you?”

She nodded, not taking her eyes from his.

Gently, he lowered his head and took her face in his hands, tenderly brushing his lips against hers. He pressed more firmly, and she responded in kind.

He held her there for a long moment, tasting the sweetness of her mouth, the delicious warmth of her skin. But a fierce electricity ignited inside of him, so he pulled back, slowly, before it took over. “I’ve been waiting all night to do that.” She smiled.

Shoot, he was in trouble.

“So have I.”

He studied her face, savoring the moment of pure happiness.

His heart felt full. And to think they’d just met, and he hadn’t wanted to go on this date in the first place. Wade and Jocelyn were going to go nuts. “I’ll call you tomorrow?”

She nodded sweetly, then found a key in her purse and turned to unlock the door. “Goodnight, Jonathan.”

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