Page 45 of Never Kiss a Krampus
“You talk about it like it’s a prison sentence.”
“For me, it is a dereliction of duty. For you, it is an opportunity to avoid the consequences of your actions.”
I sighed, leaning against the counter. “We’re back to my transgressions, are we?”
“We never left.”
The water started boiling, and I turned my attention to making hot cider. I used the good stuff—the mix my grandmother swore by—and added an orange slice studded with cloves and a cinnamon stick. The ritual of it helped calm my nerves.
I poured the cider into two mugs—a reindeer one for me and the usual black for Bastian.
“I do not require?—”
“Just shut up and drink it, okay?” I pushed the mug towards him, then carried mine over to the window, looking out atthe blizzard. Even worse than before. The snow fell so thickly I couldn’t see the building across the street. If the blizzard continued, not only would I be trapped in my apartment, but the store would remain closed and any faint hope that I might be able to save the shop would disappear.
This is bad. This is really bad.
“Noelle.” He appeared behind me, his reflection ghostly in the dark window.
“What?”
“You are shivering.”
“Yes, that’s what happens when humans get cold. We shiver. It’s a biological response to cold.” Although I wasn’t sure it was entirely from the cold.
I heard him sigh, and a second later I was in his arms. He’d picked me up so smoothly that the cider in the mug didn’t even ripple. God, he was warm. I resisted the temptation to nestle closer and frowned up at him.
“What are you doing?”
“I am being practical.” He carried me to the couch and nest of blankets he’d prepared. “Body heat is more effective than blankets alone.”
My brain short-circuited somewhere between “body” and “heat.”
“I don’t need?—”
“Yes, you do.”
He sat down just as smoothly, and carefully pulled the blankets around us.
“This is purely practical,” I said.
“Absolutely.”
“Just until the power comes back.”
“Of course.”
“And we’re not going to make it weird.”
His mouth twitched. “I would not dream of it.”
I could practically feel his amusement, dark and rich, but I could also feel his warmth radiating off him in waves, calling to every cold, shivering part of me.
This is fine. This is normal. People share body heat all the time. It doesn’t mean anything.
I perched on the edge of his lap, stiff and awkward, trying to maintain some semblance of personal space. He made a sound somewhere between amusement and exasperation. “This will not work.”
“Why not?”
