Page 10 of Holiday Temptation

With a feigned look of betrayal, I call out, "Et tu, kid?"

Laughing, Emily beckons to a group of girls eyeing our antics with keen interest. "Come on, girls! Team Emily needs you!"

Never one to back down from a challenge, especially not now, I shout, rallying the troops. "Boys! Who's with Team Dominic?" Almost instantly, a motley crew of eager youngsters flock to my side, their energy palpable.

The hill erupts in chaos. Snowballs fly in every direction, alliances shift, and shouts of laughter fill the air. Parents cheer from the sidelines, some even joining in, unable to resist the infectious fun. Every now and then, amidst the frenzied activity, my eyes lock with Emily's. We share silent, playful challenges, daring the other to make the next move.

A young girl, her hair in braided pigtails, sneaks up behind me with a snowball, but I catch her in the act. Hoisting her into the air, I declare, "A spy in our midst!" She giggles uncontrollably as I set her down, and she dashes off, joining Team Emily with renewed vigor.

The battle continues, neither side giving an inch. But as the sun begins to dip, casting a golden hue over the snowy landscape, a truce is called. Exhausted but beaming, both sides converge at the bottom of the hill, sharing stories of their best throws and most dramatic dodges.

As the children return to their sleds and families, I find myself beside Emily, both of us panting and covered in snow. "You're a formidable opponent, Ms. Hart," I remark, admiration clear in my voice.

She grins, nudging me with her elbow. "You're not so bad yourself, Mr. Grange. But remember, winter is my playground."

And as the laughter and joy of the day's battle linger in the air, I realize that perhaps winter could become my playground, too.

A hot cocoa stand is nearby, complete with outdoor seating and a huge heater. Emily and I each grab a cup of hot chocolate, the aroma of cocoa and melted marshmallows wrapping around us like a comforting blanket.

Huddling under the heater, we sip our drinks and watch the scene in the park. Children making snow angels, parents capturing memories on their cameras, friends laughing and racing each other down the hill. The diverse crowd, with people of all ages and backgrounds, converges in this one magical place, sharing the simple joy of winter.

"You know," Emily begins, her voice soft and reflective, "I've always believed that the holidays aren't just about the traditions or the gifts. It's about choosing the people you want to be with and finding happiness in those shared moments."

I turn to look at her, noticing how the heater's light casts a gentle glow on her face, emphasizing the earnestness in her eyes. "What do you mean?"

She smiles, taking a moment to gather her thoughts. "I mean, life's so fleeting, Dominic. We get caught up in the hustle and expectations, and we forget to live. The holidays, to me, are a reminder to pause, to cherish, and to choose happiness."

Her words resonate with me, stirring something deep inside. I'm suddenly aware of the vulnerability that comes with caring for someone. The loss of my father, so abrupt and painful, had taught me to guard my heart. To keep people at a safe distance so losing them wouldn't tear me apart. But with her warmth and sincerity, Emily was dismantling those defenses, piece by piece.

I'm taken aback by the force of these feelings, by the realization that in trying to protect myself from pain, I'd been denying myself the possibility of joy. The corporate world, the demands, the pressures—they've been my life for so long. But in this moment, everything fades away, leaving just Emily's words and the possibility of a life filled with more than just work.

Without really thinking, I find myself leaning in, the world again narrowing to just the two of us. Our breaths mingle, and in a heartbeat, our lips meet. It's soft and tentative at first, then deepens with a raw intensity. Emily's arms snake around my neck, her lips parting as her tongue meets mine. I deepen the kiss, exploring every nuance and curve of her mouth, our embrace deepening further with each passing second.

When we finally pull apart, our foreheads rest against one another, the heater's warmth now secondary to the heat between us. The holidays, as Emily said, are about the people you choose to be with.

And in that moment, my choice couldn't be clearer.

Chapter 6

Emily

ThewarmthofDominic'shand envelops mine as we walk away from the snow-covered park. The laughter of children and the distant hum of city life fill the brisk air. We approach a cluster of food trucks, each illuminated by twinkling fairy lights and emitting savory aromas. A large green truck labeled "Gourmet Delights" catches our attention, and a waft of spiced meat and roasted vegetables pulls us in its direction.

Dominic releases my hand, stepping forward to examine the menu. "What are you in the mood for?" he asks, glancing over at me, those steel-blue eyes reflecting the gentle glow of the surrounding lights.

"The pulled pork sandwich sounds tempting," I admit, wrapping my arms around myself, trying to ward off the chill.

He nods, then beckons the person inside the truck. "Two pulled pork sandwiches, please," he orders.

I fumble for my wallet, but Dominic's hand halts me. "It's on me," he insists.

A few moments later, we're handed warm, foil-wrapped sandwiches. The scent alone makes my mouth water. We find a nearby bench and settle down, the cold wood beneath us a stark contrast to the warmth of our food. As I take my first bite, the flavors burst in my mouth—tangy, sweet, smoky. It's delectable.

Across from me, Dominic seems lost in his thoughts. I can't help but sneak glances at him. The way his sharp jawline flexes as he chews, the low hum of contentment that escapes his lips—it's mesmerizing. And beneath the soft amber glow of the streetlights, those eyes, so often filled with intensity, now shimmer with a mellow warmth.

We continue eating, sharing occasional comments about the food, the day, and the winter chill. But beneath the light-hearted banter, there's a palpable tension, an undercurrent of something more profound. I'm acutely aware of every movement he makes, every word he speaks, and the electric charge in the air between us.

It's a simple meal, a casual moment. Yet, with Dominic by my side, it feels like so much more.

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