Page 66 of The Snuggle is Real
The sleigh moved slowly enough we could really take in all the sights, but it was freezing. I dipped my chin, trying to nuzzle into my scarf, and shivered hard.
“You’re cold.” Ford grabbed the blanket pooled on the floor of the sleigh and draped it over our laps. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and tugged me against his side. “Better?”
I leaned in closer, tucking my cold nose into his neck. “Mm-hmm.”
Ford shivered, and I drew back.
“Sorry, am I making you cold too?”
“I’m fine.” He guided my head back to his shoulder. “Can you see the lights from this position?”
“Yeah, thanks. They’re beautiful.”
Ford glanced down to meet my eyes, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah. Beautiful.”
I tilted my face up, my lips buzzing, a tension crackling under my skin.
Kiss me. Please.
“Ford,” I whispered.
He licked his lips. “Yeah?”
“If this really were a date, would you, um, kiss me right now?”
“Yeah, I think I probably would.”
“Well, we’ve been pretending all night, so…”
I held my breath, sure he’d laugh and brush my comment away. Instead, his gaze dipped to my lips, lingered, and between one breath and the next?—
He kissed me.
Ford tipped his head, brushing my lips so lightly it was more the idea of a kiss than an actual one. My fingers curled into his hair, so silky, and I made a soft, needy noise that would probably embarrass me later.
Ford cupped my face, drawing me in, kissing me more firmly. My lips parted, and just as I captured a hint of his taste, the sleigh jolted to a stop.
Ford pushed me away.
Not roughly, but carefully. As if I were a bomb about to explode all over him. Something precarious and dangerous.
“Sorry,” we said at the same time.
“I was just caught up in all of this,” I said quickly, waving to the sleigh and postcard-worthy view.
“Yeah, it wasn’t— I’m not?—”
“I know,” I said. “It’s okay.”
Gus turned in his seat. “All right, folks, hope you enjoyed your ride around Santa’s Village. Have a good evening and a wonderful holiday!”
I smiled weakly. “Thanks, Gus. It was lovely.”
Ford jumped down from the sleigh, and I followed. We crossed the street together, in silence, and my heart tried to hammer out of my chest.
I never should have asked Ford to kiss me. What had I been thinking? The whole night had been like this waking dream, and I’d gotten caught up in the fantasy.
Those Wassail cocktails hadn’t helped me keep my head either.
