Page 7 of Mountain Man's Christmas Star
“Since the second I met you,” I said.
“You say that like it should be understood.”
I looked over at her. “Shouldn’t it? You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
That brought her head around. She stared at me, her eyes wide, her lips slightly parted as she took me in.
“Nobody’s ever said that to me before.”
“That you’re beautiful?”
“Yeah. Cute. Pretty. Great personality. Such a pretty face. All the usual backhanded compliments curvy women like me get.”
“People are idiots,” I said.
“They were just kids,” she said. “And some adults who didn’t know better.”
Whoever they were, I wanted to have a talk with each and every one of them. Anyone who made this beautiful angel feel self-conscious about herself was on my shit list.
“Well, anyone who can’t see how beautiful you are is just plain blind,” I said.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
The words hung between us in the cold night air, and I found myself leaning closer. She smelled like pine and winter berries—like her soaps—mixed with something that was purely Ivy. Something warm and sweet that made my chest tighten.
“Ivy,” I said, her name coming out rougher than I intended.
She turned toward me, and suddenly we were so close I could see the faint freckles across her nose, could feel her breath against my cheek. Her eyes dropped to my mouth, then back up to meet mine.
“Yes?”
Instead of answering, I cupped her face in my hands. Her skin was cold from the night air, but soft as silk under my palms. “Can I kiss you?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” she whispered.
I leaned in slowly, giving her time to change her mind, but she met me halfway. Our lips touched—soft, tentative at first. A gentle brush that sent electricity shooting straight through me.
Then she made a small sound in the back of her throat, and something in me snapped. I kissed her deeper, harder, pulling her closer until she was practically in my lap on the stage riser. Her hands fisted in my jacket, holding on as I explored her mouth with mine.
She tasted like soda and possibility, like everything I’d been missing without knowing it. When she opened for me, letting me deepen the kiss even further, I had to fight not to groan out loud.
We broke apart, both breathing hard. Her lips were swollen, her cheeks flushed pink in the dim light from the festival decorations.
“Wow,” she breathed.
“Yeah.” I rested my forehead against hers, trying to get my heart rate under control. “Wow.”
She was quiet for a moment, then looked up at me with those beautiful eyes. “Gunnar?”
“Yeah?”
“I think we should go somewhere more private.”
Heat shot through me like lightning. “You sure?”
“Very sure.”
Her voice was steady, but I could see the nervousness in her expression. The trust. She was putting herself completely in my hands.
