Page 42 of Tied Up In Tinsel
God, that smile. It never failed to hit me square in the chest.
We were just days from Christmas now, the town decked out in twinkle lights and evergreen garlands just as always. Days from me packing up my life again, heading toward another rodeo, another circuit, another faceless stop on the endless road. South looked promising, but every time I thought about leaving Snowberry Peak, something inside me recoiled.
Maybe it wasn’t the town I wasn’t ready to leave.
Maybe it was Annie and Ruby.
Leaning against the counter, coffee in hand, I checked the clock. Any second now. My pulse ticked in rhythm with thesecond hand. Patience. I set the mug down, crossing my arms over my bare chest as I waited.
Just like clockwork, her bedroom door creaked open, and moments later, Annie appeared.
My head tilted, studying her as if I’d never seen her before. Today she wasn’t in jeans or leggings. Today she wore a dress that skimmed just above her knees, white tights hugging her legs, short boots clicking softly against the kitchen tile.
“Dressed to impress?” I asked, my voice low, teasing.
She came straight to me, arms sliding around my neck as though she belonged there. My hands found her waist instinctively, tugging her closer.
“It better be to impress me,” I murmured, “though you do that well enough already.”
Her lips curved, but she bit down gently, shaking her head. “Meeting with the mayor and his board this morning. They want to finalize the menu, and he suggested I wear something a little more professional. Leave an impression.”
I gave a slow nod, but my eyes couldn’t help trailing down the length of her body, memorizing the sight. “Gimme a spin, Red.”
I caught her hand and twirled her, the hem of her dress flaring, teasing a glimpse of her curves. Gorgeous didn’t begin to cover it.
When she landed back in my arms, I lifted her easily, setting her on the counter. Bracing my hands on either side of her, I leaned in, close enough to feel her breath on my lips.
Her fingertips traced my chest, lingering over the tattoos etched into my skin. A spark lit in her eyes, one I wanted to burn in forever.
“You know,” she whispered, voice husky, “waking up every morning to you shirtless in my kitchen is pretty damn hot.”
A rough sound rumbled in my chest as I buried my face against her neck, breathing her in. She tilted back, offeringherself to me as I kissed and nibbled at the soft skin there, her hands roaming over my shoulders, down my back, and lower still.
I savored it. Every deliberate touch. Every way she seemed to brand me with her hands.
“I’ll do it every damn morning,” I promised against her skin.
“You already do,” she breathed, smiling, as if it were the simplest truth in the world.
“I know.”
My palms slid down to her thighs, over the silky fabric of her tights, before slipping beneath the hem of her dress.
I felt her body twitch beneath my touch, but I kept moving higher, my fingers sliding toward the band of her tights. Dipping beneath, I teased along her stomach, slow enough to make her squirm.
“What is it with you and kitchens?” she whispered, her hand curling into my hair to hold me there.
I caught her earlobe between my teeth, biting just enough to draw a gasp before letting go. “I’d take you anywhere, Annie. The kitchen just happens to be where you make yourself irresistible.”
Considering most mornings, we’d get handsy in here and yesterday I literally bent her over the counter at the ski lodge with zero remorse.
Hooking my fingers under the fabric, I tugged her tights down. She shifted, lifting her hips to help me. When they slid to her knees, I stilled, a groan leaving my throat.
No panties.
Heat surged through me, my mouth watering at the sight of her bare and waiting.
“What’s this?” I rasped, dragging a finger along her slick core. She was already wet. “Scandalous.”
