Page 58 of Mistletoe Latte

Four days…dropping down to three with the sun.

The reminder barely made a dent in Emma’s mood. She jumped up and kissed him, most of her lips pressing to his cheek instead. Nick laughed and bent over. His nose pressed into her cheek as he parted his mouth before her lips. The heat of his breath chased away the winter chill, and he kissed her. All the quick glances over the day, the intimate grazes, and the fact she’d stuffed her bra in her pocket reached a boiling point. Emma clung to his cheeks and rifled her fingers through his hair. His tongue tasting of caramel and pecans swept over hers.

She had to break away as another biting winter wind cut through her jacket.

“You’re freezing,” Nick said. She wanted to argue but her teeth chattered in response. He pecked a quick kiss to her forehead, then hefted the suitcase up with a groan. “What do you have in this thing? Pirate gold?”

Together, they stumbled for the front door instead of the side. The place was cool after hosting no one for two days. Emma shivered and rubbed her hands while abandoning her shoes. Nick was a gentleman and took not only her coat but her scarf as well. “I was thinking, since the corn dog and macaroni kid’s gonna be out tonight, how’s lobster ravioli sound for dinner?”

“Like you’re trying to get me into bed.”

Nick chuckled and he swept her up into his arms. “It doesn’t have to be the bed.” He kissed her again, heat rushing through her.

Her thighs clenched and an urge to tug off his clothes overcame her. But the ache in her empty stomach calmed her enough to think clearly. “Are you going to have to pick up Skylar?”

She’d been at her hair appointment for hours. The girl could pop in through the door at any second and catch them in the act.

“Her friend’s gonna drop her off. They’ll get dressed. I get at least three embarrassing pictures, then she’s off.”

Sounded like a good plan. Emma nodded and the two trekked into the kitchen.

“Can’t say I miss that high school mess,” Nick said as he flipped on the kitchen light. “The damn tie choked me the whole night.”

“I bet you were handsome.” She found her way into the fridge and, sure enough, there was a packet of ‘real lobster meat’ in the drawer.

Nick barked out a laugh and dropped the flour canister. “I looked like a bull with a rope on my neck. But you made all the jaws drop.”

She gulped and touched her cheek. The divot from an old scar yanked her heart back to the trauma of high school. All she could do was shake her head and focus on creating the filling.

“Well, I’d kill to see you in a dress.” Nick swept a hand around the back of her waist and pulled her close. “Or nothing at all,” he whispered against her cheek.

The storm in her stomach settled. She turned to him, but he stared at the bowl and blinked. “You’ve already got that made up?”

“It…sorry, was that wrong?” Her years of training had kicked in without thinking. She knew what needed to be prepped and did it.

“A beautiful woman whipping food together for us? That’s never wrong.”

“But you…you were going to…” Emma abandoned the spatula and slipped away when a hand caught hers.

“Hey, I like cooking beside you. For starters, you know what you’re doing.”

Her cheeks burned and she smiled. “So do you.”

“Uh-huh.” He dumped the ingredients into the stand mixer and turned it on. As it kneaded the flour into pasta dough, Nick chuckled. “My food’s edible, yours is... I think the last customer called your eclair divine.”

“No, they didn’t.” Oh god, she was blushing to her knees.

“Like heaven inside pastry,” Nick kept on. She tried to shake away the compliments, but they lightened her heart. His jovial laugh faded and, in a serious tone, he said, “The best thing to ever happen to Brew 4 U.”

Four days…

She’d never been the best thing anywhere. Emma looked up at him and found herself falling into a winsome smile that spoke novels. Her hand abandoned the bowl and reached for his cheek.

Why not stay longer?Make divine eclairs, help Skylar with young womanhood, fall into bed with this impossibly sweet and gruff man every night. She pulled Nick closer, the idea perched on her tongue.

The stand mixer beeped in pain and he jerked away. “Ah, shit, where’d I leave that pasta roller-outer thing?”

As he hunted for the missing attachment, Emma returned to stirring, terrified of the want growing in her heart. She dipped a spoon into her lobster filling and held it up for Nick. “What do you think?”

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