Page 22 of Her Paramedic
“Were you jealous, gorgeous?”
Talia raised a brow at him. “Did I need to be?”
“Not at all.” He pulled her to him. “We both know I’m yours.” He leaned down and brushed his lips against hers. “All you have to do is say it.”
She kissed him. “You just did.”
She turned around and leaned against him, and he wrapped his free arm around her. They had an hour left until they rang in the new year, and then he’d pull her away to give her Christmas gift to her.
The crowd counted down to New Year, and the fireworks were set off. Slate wasn’t that interested in them as he sat in a chair, Talia on his lap, with the sound of guests cheering around the eruption of the light show.
After the show died down, he requested softly against her ear, “Come with me for a minute.” Slate led them to the bedroom and pulled the wrapped gift from his bag.
“I have one for you, too,” she said, opening her bag. “Will you open yours first?” she asked after exchanging them.
“Sure, gorgeous.”
When he unwrapped the gift, he discovered a model car kit for a 1967 Chevrolet Impala SS. He couldn’t help but smile. “Thank you, baby.”
“You’re welcome. It looks like my sister won’t be a widow after all.” When Slate raised a brow, she elaborated. “I remembered you restored old vehicles as a hobby. After I bought it, I asked Axel if he thought it was a good gift, if you’d like it. He said you would, but I might have told him that if you didn’t, I would make Kaydence a widow.”
Slate chuckled. “I’m glad she can keep her husband.”
“For now, at least,” Talia joked. “But it’s the correct one, right?”
He looked back down at the box, and he realized why she was asking. When he’d told her about his hobby, she’d asked what car had been his favorite so far to restore. It was the one he currently held a model of. He’d told her he was looking forwardto restoring another one, and it seemed she had decided he’d be able to regardless of whether it was life-size or a model.
“It is. It’s perfect.” He gestured toward the box she was holding. “Your turn.”
She unwrapped it, opened the bracelet box, and pulled out the platinum charm bracelet. He’d started with two charms: one of her first initial and a pair of open hair shears.
“It’s gorgeous,” she stated, running her finger over the charms. “Thank you.”
Slate reached out and pulled her to him. “You’re welcome.”
He took her lips in a deep kiss, his hand dipping down to grab a luscious ass cheek as he slipped his tongue into her mouth. It differed from the chaste kisses he’d been giving her. He’d waited patiently to get to this point. When she placed her hand on his chest, Slate waited to see if she would push him away. Instead, her fingers curled into his shirt, gripping it as if trying to hold him in place.
He pulled her, wanting her closer, even though he knew it was impossible. There was no space left between them, and when she moaned into his mouth, a soft, sensual sound, he pulled away to speak against her lips.
“Talia, you moan like that again; I’m going to give you a better reason to do so.” He ran his tongue over her lips, and her hand slid from his chest to the waistband of his pants. Before either of them could say or do anything else, there was a knock on the door.
“Slate?”
He refrained from groaning and wondered if this was payback. “Yeah, Kil?”
“Everyone’s leaving. We’re moving the furniture back and cleaning up.”
“Alright. Give me a second.” He kissed Talia again. “I’ll be back.”
“You want me to help?”
“Nah, baby. We can handle it.”
He picked up the car box he’d dropped at the end of the bed and placed it on the dresser before exiting the bedroom. When he made it downstairs, the guests who weren’t staying—only the eleven of them—were trickling out of the front door.
Clean-up was quick with the eight of them and the few guests who stayed and helped before leaving. He returned to the bedroom forty-five minutes later to find Talia dressed for bed, putting her phone on the charger.
“Do you prefer a specific side?” she asked.
