Page 37 of Say It Isn't Snow
I ladle the mulled wine into two glasses, garnishing them with dried orange slices and cinnamon sticks. He accepts the one I hand him and trails after me.
Outside, he watches me intently as if he’s reluctant to let me out of his sight. I pause after setting my drink on the edge of the hot tub. Meeting his burning gaze, I peel his hoodie off, showing off the red plaid bikini with frills that flaunts my curves.
Before I have to ask, his hand is there. I take it gratefully and climb in, entering the water with a shivering sigh. The fizzing bubbles burst against my skin and the temperature difference makes the rest of me break out in goosebumps.
Caleb’s throat bobs with a swallow. He angles his glass back and forth, tearing his enraptured attention from me to stare into the drink before taking a long sip.
“If you need anything, call for me. I’ll leave you to enjoy yourself,” he rasps.
The night air combined with the heady mulling spices bolster my impulses. My hand darts out, grasping his wrist to stop him.
“What’s wrong?” The glow of the lights draped around the porch catch his eyes, making the green more vivid and alluring.
“Stay with me,” I murmur.
The request encompasses everything I want right now. Him joining me in the steamy water to enjoy the mulled wine I made together. Him staying in New England. Him staying with me and never letting go again.
Caleb inclines his head with a hooded gaze. “I didn’t bring swim shorts.”
“Since when has that been something that stopped you?”
I sink into the water and lift my brows in challenge, sipping my drink. The corner of his mouth lifts in a lopsided, dimpled smirk that steals my breath.
He reaches behind his head and tugs off his sweater. I only have a moment to enjoy the view of the fitted t-shirt he’s wearing underneath before he loses that too, revealing his delectable bare chest. Finally, he kicks off his jeans and tosses them in the clothes pile with the hoodie.
It’s my turn for my eyes to roam everywhere that I didn’t indulge in the first morning here. God, he’s so hot. His chiseled pecs and those irresistible broad shoulders. Muscled arms that engulf me in the best embrace. Sculpted abs I want to lick.
He joins me in the water with a rumble of satisfaction when he lowers himself beside me.
“Nice, right?” I settle against the jets and admire the twinkling stars overhead beyond the pine trees.
“Yeah.”
He’s not looking at the starry sky. His gaze is locked on me.
Our legs brush together. Exhilaration simmers in my stomach. He’s so close my side tingles with awareness.
The humid condensation rising off the water amplifies the hushed yet enticing sense that we’re teetering on the precipice of something.
For a while, we’re both quiet as we drink our mulled wine. It’s nice. I don’t feel like I have to talk to fill the space. With him, I can just be.
“Remember that time we came here, just the two of us?” He tilts his head back and peers at me from the corner of his eye. “That was the best summer of my life.”
I bite my lip and nod. “Mine too.”
A beat of silence passes. He’s the one to break it.
“If that’s true, why didn’t we work out?” He sets his drink aside and shifts closer to me, brows pinching. “We were good together. Weren’t we?”
“We were,” I agree, distracting myself by tracing the water droplets on his chest.
We drift closer. His arm circles my waist and his fingertips skim up my spine as his stare pins me in place.
“So…?” he prompts gruffly.
“So what?” I murmur ruefully. “We were young, and it was exciting sneaking around with you because you were my best friend’s brother.”
He shakes his head. “It was more than that.”
