Page 35 of Just Home for the Holidays

“You’re welcome. The color was a guess, but it works.” He brushed his fingertips across her bare skin and she shivered with pleasure. Her gown had spaghetti straps and he looked down at the curve of her breast then took a breath. “Those emails kept me awake all night,” he murmured, his eyes dancing. “I hope I don’t doze off.”

“I doubt you will.”

“I’m doubting it, too.”

The group of passersby who had gathered to watch broke out in applause as he handed her into the carriage. Chloe felt herself flush at the unexpected attention, but Hunter tucked the blanket over her lap. He nodded to the driver and the carriage pulled away.

“Wave to your adoring public,” he told her in a conspiratorial undertone. Chloe laughed and waved. She looked up at the windows of her mom’s apartment and waved to the girls, glad she couldn’t hear them.

“I’ve been warned that you’ll turn into a frog at midnight.”

Hunter laughed. “I might. Or maybe just back to my usual self.”

The air was crisp but it was a clear night. The horse’s hooves echoed on the street as the carriage headed back toward the park. People on the sidewalks waved at them and they waved back. Christmas lights glinted on all sides and it was absolutely magical.

Having Hunter’s thigh pressed against her own and his arm around her shoulders didn’t hurt either.

“Where did you find the carriage?”

“Where I always find one. I just call Reg.”

The driver glanced back and tipped his hat. He was about the same age as Hunter and good-looking, but not nearly so handsome. He didn’t have Hunter’s verve. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Richardson.”

“Do you drive your carriage here in the park?”

Reg shook his head. “No, we have a stable and riding school in Westchester County. We only come in for rentals, like the wedding earlier today. Hunter, as usual, caught me at the right moment. Ella and I would have been home by now otherwise.”

“Sorry we were late,” Hunter said. “Ella ate the first bouquet of daisies so I had to find more.”

Reg grinned. “Hunter always has to have the mares just so, so I told him he had to do it. I just leave her mane loose.” He shook his head and turned back to his driving, obviously leaving them to chat to each other.

“I thought you were late on purpose,” Chloe said softly. “Breaking rule eight.”

“No.” Hunter’s expression was innocent. “I was going to follow all the rules tonight and hope for a reward for good behavior.”

Chloe laughed despite herself. “No chance of that.”

“I’ll settle for another email story.” He winked and Chloe’s cheeks burned. He didn’t seem to have an issue with anything she’d said, though, which was a relief. He caught her hand in his, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, and Chloe didn’t pull away. He exhaled as if he’d run a marathon, then surveyed her with approval. “You look fabulous.”

“Thanks. You, too.”

“A little too tidy, though,” he mused. “May I?”

“What?”

“Just a tweak. It’s sexy as hell when you look a little bit disheveled.”

Chloe felt her cheeks heat and didn’t know what to say.

“You know, since you’re shopping for Mr. Right tonight, you should pull out all the stops.” He raised his brows, teasing her.

“What change would you make?” she asked.

He reached across her nape and caught a tendril of hair under his finger. He held her gaze as he tugged it loose from her updo, then twirled it around his finger before releasing it. His eyes glowed as he surveyed her. “There,” he murmured, his voice low enough to make her thrum.

Chloe’s throat was tight and her mouth was dry. She turned to watch the park go by, unable to dismiss her urge to reach out and touch Hunter. She could run her hand down his thigh, or stroke his jaw, or lean closer to steal a kiss... “I hope you can waltz,” she said instead and heard the huskiness of her own voice.

“Tango, rhumba, waltz, you name it. I’ve got it all covered.”

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