Page 6 of Tangling with the Christmas
"I'm glad I crashed into your snowbank."
In the golden light, I see him smile. A real smile this time, not just a twitch of his lips. "Yeah," he says softly. "Me too."
Chapter 4
Rhett
Thecabin'sgonequietexcept for the storm and the low hum of the fire. I should be asleep. Should have closed my eyes hours ago and let the exhaustion drag me under.
But I can hear her breathing.
She's in my bed, twenty feet away, and I can hear every soft inhale, every shift of fabric against skin. The lamp's burned down to nothing, leaving just the fire's glow, painting everything in shades of amber and shadow.
I tell myself to stay put. To keep my distance. To remember all the reasons this is a bad idea.She's leaving in the morning, she's got a whole life down in the town, I'm not built for whatever it is she seems to want from me…
But then I hear her whisper, so soft I almost miss it. "Rhett?"
"Yeah?"
"I can't sleep."
"Fire keeping you awake?"
"No." A pause, heavy with meaning. "You are."
The air shifts, thickens. I sit up, heart hammering against my ribs like it's trying to escape. "Rosemary—"
"I keep thinking about earlier. When you touched my wrist." Her voice is small in the darkness, but steady. Sure. "I keep thinking about what might've happened if the lights hadn't gone out."
I should shut this down. Should tell her it's just the storm, the isolation, the strange intimacy of being trapped together. But instead I stand, moving toward the bed before I can talk myself out of it.
"What do you think would've happened?" I ask, stopping at the foot of the bed.
She sits up, and in the firelight I can see the outline of her—dark hair wild around her shoulders, eyes bright and fearless. "I think you would've kissed me."
"Yeah," I admit, because there's no point lying. "I would've."
"So why didn't you?"
"Because you deserve better than some mountain hermit who forgot how to do this years ago."
She shifts, moving to the edge of the bed, feet touching the floor. "What if I don't want better? What if I want you?"
The words hit me right in the chest, stealing my breath. "You don't know what you're saying."
"I do." She stands, closing the distance between us until I can feel the heat of her, until that cinnamon scent wraps around me like a spell. "I know exactly what I'm saying, Rhett Walker. I want you. I've wanted you since you scowled at me in the snow."
My hands find her waist before I can stop them, and the small gasp she makes goes straight through me. "This is a bad idea."
"Probably." Her fingers trace up my arms, over my shoulders, into my hair. "But I've had enough good ideas to last a lifetime. They all ended badly anyway."
"Rosemary—"
"Stop thinking," she whispers against my jaw. "Stop hiding. Just... be here. With me."
When I kiss her, it's nothing like I planned. Not gentle, not testing. It's hunger and need and months of loneliness crashing together all at once. She melts into me, making small sounds that drive me absolutely crazy, her hands fisting in my shirt like she's afraid I'll disappear.
I walk her backward until her legs hit the bed. She sits, pulling me down with her, and suddenly we're tangled together—her soft curves against my hard angles, her warmth seeping into places that have been cold for too long.
