Page 17 of Christmas With the Navy SEAL Mountain Man
"And it doesn't drive you crazy?" I ask, only half joking.
"It did at first." He takes a sip of his coffee, his eyes never leaving mine. "Now I think I'd miss it if you stopped."
The admission, so simple but revealing, makes my heart skip. I step closer, drawn to him like gravity.
"Aaron Wilson, are you saying you like me?"
"I'm saying I spent two years avoiding everyone in this town, and now I'm considering attending the next community event just to see you in action." He sets his mug down to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, his touch gentle. "So yeah, I like you. God help me."
The mock distress in his voice makes me grin. "It's not so bad. Liking someone. You'll get used to it."
"Will I?" There's genuine uncertainty beneath the question.
"I hope so." I rise on tiptoes to press a soft kiss to his lips. "Because I like you too. Grumpiness and all."
He captures me for another kiss, deeper this time, his arms wrapping around me as if he never wants to let go. When we finally break apart, he rests his forehead against mine.
"I should go," he says reluctantly. "I have work waiting at the cabin."
"The cradle?" I ask, remembering him mentioning the commission yesterday.
He nods. "Needs to be finished before Christmas."
"I understand." And I do. Whatever is happening between us is new and fragile. We both need time to process it. "Will I see you again soon?"
"Tonight?" he suggests, surprising me with his eagerness. "I could cook dinner. At my place."
The invitation to his sanctuary feels significant, a barrier being lowered. "I'd like that."
He dresses quickly, efficiently, transforming back into the imposing mountain man I first met. But now I know what lies beneath the gruff exterior—the gentleness of his hands, the heat of his passion, the vulnerability he tries so hard to hide.
At the door, he pauses, turning back to me with an expression that makes my breath catch. Without a word, he pulls me into his arms for a kiss that feels like both a promise and a claim.
"Tonight," he says against my lips. "Six o'clock."
Then he's gone, his heavy footsteps echoing down the stairs to the street below. I close the door and lean against it, hugging myself as joy bubbles up inside me.
The Aaron Wilson who just left my apartment is not the same man who scowled at me from his woodpile days ago. Something has shifted, some wall has begun to crumble. And I'm both thrilled and terrified by what might be emerging from behind those walls.
My phone buzzes from the bedroom, breaking my reverie. Reality intrudes in the form of a dozen messages from Wren about the Winter Wonderland cleanup, questions from vendors, and a reminder about tomorrow's town council meeting.
Life goes on, even when your world has been turned upside down by a blue eyed mountain man with magic hands and a wounded heart.
I shower and dress, my body pleasantly sore, my mind racing with thoughts of Aaron and tonight and what it all might mean.As I respond to messages and prepare for my day, one thought keeps circling back:
I'm falling for him. Fast and hard and probably unwisely.
And I have no idea if his crumbling walls will let me in completely, or if they'll rebuild themselves stronger than ever when he remembers why he sought solitude in the first place.
Only time will tell. And tonight, over dinner in his cabin, I might get my first real clue.
CHAPTER SEVEN
AARON
2 WEEKS LATER
"You've gone soft, Wilson."
