Page 81 of Stuck on the Slopes

“We were just talking about you,” Veronica said.

“Oh?” As Juniper looked at me, I tried to hide my wince with a smile. I hadn’t been sure if he should even know about this conversation, but the cat was out of the bag now.

To my surprise, his mother said, “She’s an interesting one, Junebug. The girl’s got spunk.”

“She hates me.”

Juniper laughed as he stacked the plates and set them in the bus box we snagged from The Elk’s Head kitchen. The table was clear now, with the bus box resting in one of the chairs. Sasquatch rested in the corner of the room. “Even if she does, I don’t care what she thinks.”

I sighed. “I also don’t want you to get shit for it later.”

“I’m a grown man, Rach. You said it yourself, I’m thirty years old. I can handle it. And besides, at the risk of sounding like I have mommy issues, she’s never exactly been the mother of the year.”

“Well, that makes me feel slightly less bad about it.”

“You really said all that, huh?”

I’d given him a recap of our conversation, not sparing him the gory details. While I wasn’t sure how he’d react, I knew he wouldn’t be mad—but I also hadn’t expected him to have a twinkle in his eye the entire time.

“I had to defend your honor, Juni.” I glanced out the window next to us, glimpsing at a large herd of male elk retreating into the woods. “Mine, too, but it was yours I was more concerned with. And I meant every word.”

The only part I hadn’t told him about was when his mother asked if I loved him, nor did I tell him my answer. I’d shout it from the rooftops if I could, but after he’d been wounded before, I wanted to give Juniper the time he needed to get there. No matter what happened with the lodge, we didn’t need to rush, and I’d rather we take our time than accidentally push him away.

That wicked smirk I knew well enough by now crossed his face. “I could take you right here on this table, you know that?”

“Really, now?” I placed my hands on the edge of the table as his arms encased me. Juniper pushed the chair with the bus tray to the side, distancing us from the smells of orange chicken and fried rice. His lips dipped to my neck, kissing the spot just beneath my jawline that always sent heat rushing through me.

“Mhm.” He continued kissing my neck as his hands gripped my waist. With ease, he lifted me up onto the table and positioned himself between my skirt-covered legs. “What can I say? It’s sexy when you’re feisty.”

“What’s left of Christmas dinner be damned?”

He titled his head to the side in brief, faux consideration. “Good thing you’re Jewish.”

I laughed so hard I nearly snorted and then faltered when I remembered our conversation with his mother earlier. “Thank you, by the way. For standing up for me when your mom made that comment.”

“Of course. What the hell was I supposed to do, let her say dumb shit?” He planted another kiss on my cheek, this one sweeter than it was sexy as his hands rested beneath my ribs. “What kind of person would I be if I said nothing?”

“I’m used to most people not wanting to get involved. And I know a lot of people don’t mean anything horrible by it, which is why I try to shrug it off, but that meant a lot to me. So, now that I have the chance to say it properly, thank you.”

“No need to thank me for doing the right thing. I’ve always got your back, Rach.” His grip on my waist tightened, then he lowered his hands to squeeze my hips. “Let me prove it to you.”

“Right here?”

“Mmm, I think so.”

My eyes widened, surprised at his boldness considering how private he was. “And what if we get caught?”

He hummed as he nuzzled my cheek with his nose. “Then let it be known by the tabloids that Juniper Hart fucked Rachel Friedman’s brains out over Christmas dinner.” Juniper’s hands skated up to my shoulders where he pressed down to urge me to lay flat against the now-bare tablecloth. “Extra, extra,” he said, breaking the words up with a trail of kisses down my body. He leaned over me as he started his ministrations at my sternum and moved down to my stomach, eventually lowering himself to reach my hips.

Those slate-blue eyes of his were blown with lust as he looked up at me through his eyelashes, and even though he kissed me through my clothes, Juniper still had my body feeling like melting snow, something easy and relaxed that shot chills down my spine all the same.

Juniper gripped at my skirt and hiked it up, still covering my thighs but giving himself room to slip his head beneath the fabric as he kissed up my bare legs. His kisses were hot, open-mouthed, and tantalizingly slow, leaving me to wonder just how long he planned to tease the plush skin of my thighs. My breath hitched as he dragged his lips along my inner thigh, pausing only when he reached the center. When he kissed there—still through the fabric—I wanted nothing more than for him to shove my panties aside or to pull them down, but he seemed set on dragging this out. Despite his instincts most likely fighting him on this internally, I was certain he was getting a thrill out of the risk of getting caught.

“Juniper, please.” I didn’t dare speak it louder than a whisper, but it only made me sound even more desperate than I already felt to feel his tongue without a barrier. “You damn tease.”

When he chuckled, I felt the vibration shoot through me. “We’ll put that in the press release, too. I can see the revised headline now: Juniper Hart makes Rachel Friedman beg.”

Every word he spoke made me ache with want. I bit my knuckle, hoping it would muffle the pathetic whimper I couldn’t help as he left another passionate, open-mouthed kiss between my legs. Relief came soon after in the form of one finger dragging the fabric aside. I could feel his breath on me as he grazed his teeth along my clit and traced my entrance with his tongue.

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