Page 60 of Mistletoe Misses
“It’s just a fundraiser, Madds. Everyone here knows it doesn’t mean anything. You’re not leading her on or cheating on whatever you got brooding with Carmen.”
“I guess you’re right.”
“Who knows, maybe she has the hots for me and passes you by.”
“We can only hope.”
To keep the nerves at bay, I don’t watch the line but count the women who enter the gazebo. Jada should be next, and when someone stops in front of my table, my eyes reluctantly raise up her coat to her face.
“Carmen?”
“Veronica is rooting for us,” she whispers. “And I made an extra donation for her letting me cut the line.”
Grateful for Veronica yet again, I make the snap decision to honor her by following the advice I ignored yesterday. A sudden boost of adrenaline has me shooting to my feet to do what young people do and have some fun. Without regard for our audience, I take Carmen’s hand and guide us through the tables and down the back exit to a chorus ofboos. I thought about disappearing with her like this every time I saw her at the house earlier, but I let our nosy company stop me.
She didn’t tell me she’d be here tonight, making this surprise feel like the perfect opportunity to follow through on what I promised myself. I won’t let an audience or my rollercoaster thoughts hold me back. There’s only one way to figure out how I feel about us …
At the first tree we come to, I gently push her back against it and break all the rules. The rules of the kissing booth and the ones I put on myself, preventing my heart from relinking with Carmen’s. My hands grip her waist as our lips clash through a kiss I’ll never forget. This is how free our first kiss yesterday should have felt. While I enjoyed every millisecond of that kiss, I’m uninhibited and unrestricted by pain with this one, and I never want it to end.
My heart races in my ears, drowning out the world. I can’t think of anything except all the ways I’ve wanted to savor her since she became mine all those years ago. Only this time, she’s not telling me to save my passion. Quite the opposite in fact. The verbal and physical cues I’m receiving from her are encouraging me to take more, touch where I want, and explore like we’re somewhere private. My blood heats a few degrees as she tugs me closer by the collar of my jacket, and our lips part on a deep, satisfied hum that originates in my toes.
I have no idea why it’s taken me so long to do this. The voltage we generate is inescapable, and I’m tired of running from it. Tired of living without this exhilaration, this passion, this woman.
“God, Maddox,” she says on an exhale, the hot air grazing my already steaming skin and sending the equivalent of sunrays through my veins. It’s twenty degrees out here, but with the way her body melts into mine, the park feels more like a tropical paradise.
“I don’t want to kiss anyone else but you.”
“Music to my ears,” she purrs, her lashes gliding open to find me in sensual slow motion. The undisguised hunger in her cobalt eyes does something to me, and I almost resort to dragging her to her apartment like a caveman.
Reading my mind—or I look as one-track minded as I feel—and says, “Come over tonight.”
The thought of holding her through the night flashes a vivid image, and my body shivers with greed. There’s no ambiguity in her offer, powering my imagination like an oversized generator, but I can’t allow myself to be that selfish. Not this soon. After all, I’d only unlocked the cage around my heart yesterday, and it needs time to acclimate.
“I want to … badly,” I confess on a long sigh. The truth is the only answer I can form with her body dumbing down mine. I push a hand over my hair and grip the back of my neck, searching for a way to function like the gentleman my parents and the Army raised me to be instead of a dog in heat.
“Why do I feel abutcoming?” She continues searching my face for the answer.
“Not yet. Is that okay?”
“I meant what I said, Maddox. You choose the pace. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Say it again,” I demand, drawing her closer.
“I’m here with you and for only you. However long it takes and whether you’re here or in another state, I’m never leaving you a—”
I don’t wait for her to finish that sentence. It affects me in a way I can’t begin to explain, so I settle on showing her instead. With my body screaming for her, I lower my head for another taste and savor her until Aaron’s voice registers.
“Get back here. My lips are getting chapped!” he complains for the entire town to hear.
My forehead presses to hers in protest. Where did my commitment to ignoring our audience and having fun disappear to? “I don’t want to go back.”
“It’s okay. I’ll wait for you by the hot cocoa stand. However long it takes.”
The reminder hits home again, and I need to hold her again. Except this time, the fog of desire isn’t blocking out emotions I’ve kept tucked away, and I feel things changing. So. Many. Things. All the ways I held her through the many stages of our relationship growing up, pale in comparison to this one, and it’s opening something inside me. My heart? Maybe. My willingness to forgive? Sounds like the logical choice. My thoughts on a future I thought I’d never have? No doubt.
With a squeeze of my hand, she disappears into the darkness before I can finish analyzing what she just did to me. It will have to wait until my brain starts working again. My weak, neanderthal legs stumble back to the gazebo only to be received by a round of applause and an irritated little brother.
“Good Lord. It’s about time,” Aaron says while applying lip balm. “I had to pick up your slack.”
