Page 76 of Love Under Snowfall

“And why is that?”

“Self-control.”

“Too much or not enough?”

He turned and lit up her insides with his pointed stare. “Oh, come now, Francesca. There’s no need to tease.”

She shrugged, feigning a nonchalance that she knew he’dnever believe. “I’m not the tease, Benji.”

Like a whip, he was in front of her, consuming the air she exhaled with each fragmented breath. That cinnamon and sandalwood scent intensified, feeling warmer and more vivid from the source.

“Oh, no?” The endless sapphire of his irises tipped over, cascading into the widening black of his pupils as they jerked from her eyes to her lips and back.

“Nope.”

He dipped his chin, settling his mouth a whisper away from her ear. Hot breath played on the shell, tickled her lobe, and descended in silky swirls along her neck.

“How do you think I felt watching him touch you?”

“Which one? Zac or Clint?”

He responded with a growl and curled his solid fingers around her hand. Lifting, he slid her sleeve down her forearm and danced a gentle kiss along the inside of her wrist—something in her belly leapt at the contact. She thought about all the places those plush lips had been on her, dying to feel them there again. Ached to explore his body with her own.

“Both.” His hoarse response held a tortured quality at its depths, but why?

In the cabin, he’d practically devoured her, teased her, withheld release until she truly believed she’d come undone. He’d murmured sweet nothings about being ruined by her. But that’s just what they were.

Nothings.

They didn’t mean anything.

“Look.” She sighed, sliding her wrist from his gentle grasp. “I’m not sure what you’re doing. Either you’re a little buzzed or don’t like that another dude touching a toy you threw away prematurely. Maybe it’s both, but either way, yourdismissaltheother morning was heard loud and clear.”

His shoulders tensed at her words. She’d struck a chord, and for that, she felt a drifting flutter of satisfaction, but it was short-lived as she slid his jacket off and handed it back. The chill overtook her, and she backed toward the tent.

“Francesca.” An apology, a plea? It didn’t matter. It was too little too late.

“Thanks for taking me to get some air. I didn’t realize how much I needed to step away.” Smiling weakly, she turned and rejoined the reception, leaving a dejected Benjamin out in the cold.

“Should we request ‘The Electric Slide’? Or the ‘Macarena’?”

Frankie’s eyes went wide at both of Lucy’s awful suggestions. Lydia and Kylie nodded emphatically. As the maid of honor, it was her job to humor the bride no matter what, but this was a bit too much.

Surveying the crowd, she spotted her brother. Jon glanced down and pulled back his sleeve, checking the wristwatch that was once their father’s. A tinge of sadness bloomed in Frankie’s chest.

I wish Dad could have been here.

Catching her expression, her brother strode over, wrapping her in a strong hug. “Me too, sis.”

He always managed to do that. Scan someone and read their thoughts like some psychic freak of nature. Typically, his little parlor trick wigged her out, but the embrace and words were exactly what she needed.

“Screw it. We’ll do both,” Lucy called over her shoulder, a bridesmaid in each hand, as she sprinted barefoot to the DJ. Asthe first few bars of “Macarena” rang out, a few of the remaining guests scurried out to join her on the dance floor.

“Dad would have loved her,” Frankie said wistfully.

“They would have been insufferable together. She has the same power of persuasion that he did. Same genuine warmth too.” The weight of his arm settled casually around her shoulders. She instinctively leaned in, watching with amusement as their mother—also barefoot—danced right alongside her new daughter-in-law. “It’s probably why Mom glommed onto her so quickly.”

“Can’t say that I blame her.”

---