Page 21 of Mountain Man in my Stockings
"What do you want to happen?"
She bit her lower lip. The almost imperceptible gesture told me everything I wanted to know.
My hand tightened on her back, fingers spreading against the soft sweater. "Stay. Wait for me to close up. Come upstairs."
"Yes."
The word was barely out before the remaining crowd erupted in whistles and applause, shattering the bubble we'd created.
"Free drink earned!" Jack announced. "Though I'd say you both won that round!"
We stepped apart, both flushed, both breathing harder than a slow dance warranted. Eve returned to her stool while I tried to remember how to function.
The next twenty minutes were torture. Last call came and went. Regulars settled their tabs with knowing looks and smirks. Sam and the crew handled cleanup while I worked the register, painfully aware of Eve sitting quietly at the bar, waiting.
Finally—finally—the last customer headed out into the snowy night.
"We've got this," Sam said, reading my face. "We can handle lockup."
"You sure?"
"Get out of here, boss." He was smiling. "Go."
I didn't wait for him to change his mind.
Eve stood as I approached, and I took her hand without a word. Led her through the kitchen, up the back stairs to my apartment above the bar.
The door had barely closed before she turned in my arms.
"Hi," she said, suddenly seeming nervous.
"Hi." I tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "You okay?"
"Yeah. Just... it's been a while since I've done this."
"We don't have to—"
She kissed me, cutting off my words. Soft at first, tentative, then deeper as I responded. My hands found her hips, pulling her closer, and she made a small sound against my lips that went through me like electricity.
"I want to," she said softly when we broke apart. "I really want to."
"Me too." I kissed her again, slower this time, savoring it. "Since that first night. Since you pulled that mistletoe dare."
"That was only three days ago."
"Longest three days of my life."
She laughed, and I felt it against my chest. "Smooth talker."
"Just honest." I walked her backward toward my bedroom, kissing her between words. "You're all I've thought about."
We left a trail of clothing—her sweater, my flannel, her boots kicked off somewhere near the doorway. By the time we reached my bed, we were down to basics—her in leggings and a simple black bra, me in my thermal and jeans.
She sat on the edge of the mattress, looking up at me with those green eyes.
"You're staring," she said, but she was smiling.
"Can't help it." I pulled my shirt over my head, tossed it aside. "God, look at you."
