Page 38 of Secret Pucking Unicorn

Okay. Taking her hand, I lead us from the ballroom. It’s minutes before midnight and I already know the coming year is going to be the best ever.

“What about your phone or a coat?”

“My gown has pockets.” She blushes when she glances up at me as I push the button for the elevator. “And I was hoping you’d keep me warm.”

The doors open and it’s empty. We have it all to ourselves. I hit the button to take us to where we cross to the parking garage.

I step close to her and put my hand on the wall above her head and lean down.

“I can do that. It will be my pleasure.”

Her blush deepens. “Mine too.”

As my watch ticks to midnight, I start the countdown. “Five…four…three…two…” I lower my head and Miranda whispers, “One.”

Our lips meet, and this kiss is even better than the first one. We have around fifteen floors to go, and I use the time to deepen the kiss. Miranda opens her lips and I slip my tongue in. I can taste the champagne she drank earlier, but that’s not what is making me lightheaded. Neither is the descent of the elevator. It’s about being able to finally express my emotions to her and not keep the fact I love her a secret. I can’t believe she loves me too. This is more than I dreamed of ever having.

As the elevator slows its descent, we break our kiss and grin at each other. Miranda reaches up to rub her thumb across my bottom lip. I take a nip, causing her to giggle.

“Happy New Year,” she whispers.

“It will be,” I promise.

The doors open and we make our way through the crowd in party hats, all cheering and hugging. Paired with the noise of the slot machines, it’s a cacophony. Stopping, I slip out of my suit jacket and drape it over Miranda’s shoulders before we go through the doors to the parking garage. She holds it in one place with one hand as I take her other again.

“You smell good.” She rubs her cheek against the lapel and breathes deeply.

As a shifter, I know how important scent is, especially your mate’s scent. It’s imprinted on your brain. Knowing Miranda finds my scent pleasing does strange things to me. Wonderful things.

I unlock the passenger door to my Suburban and help her into it. I make sure her skirt is fully inside before closing the door.

“Can I flip up the console to make it a bench seat?” she asks when I get behind the wheel.

“Miranda, love, you need to stay on your side because if you’re next to me, I’m pulling off on the side of the road and we’re making out like a pair of teenagers.”

“And…?”

I huff out a laugh. “And I’m almost seven feet tall and it’s January. I want to be alone with you where we can be comfortable and warm. No worrying about frostbite or being interrupted.”

“No one is coming home?”

I shake my head. “I think everyone has rooms.”

I don’t know what we talk about—if we even talk at all. What I remember of our drive home is holding her hand, giving it brief little kisses at stoplights, and stealing glances. Pulling up to the barn, I shut off the engine and we sit there in the darkness. I’m not sure what to do. Of course, I know what I’d like to do. I’ve been fantasizing about this for years. But will the fantasy live up to the reality? Is what I want the same as what Miranda wants?

“Are we going to go in?” Miranda asks.

Giving what I hope sounds like a suave chuckle and not the sign of nervousness it is, I say, “Yeah, I guess we should. Wait there. I’ll come around and help you down.”

After helping her down from the passenger seat, we stand in the light of the almost full moon. I brush my knuckles along her cheek.

“You are so beautiful,” I whisper.

On a sigh, she murmurs, “Kiss me.”

And I do. There, in the moonlight, I kiss her with all the love, devotion, and passion I’ve been feeling for her for years but haven’t been able to express. Our lips cling, our tongues dance, and our bodies press against each other. When she shivers, I know it is partly in reaction to our kiss, but it’s also below freezing outside, and she must be cold.

“Let’s get you inside and warmed up.” I take her hand and lead her to the entry door leading upstairs. The moonlight is enough to illuminate the stairs through the window at the landing, so I don’t bother turning on any lights. Hand in hand, we enter our apartment, and I stop, unsure what to do next.

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