Page 20 of The Mountain Man's Fake Christmas Bride
He sets the bags on the kitchen counter and turns to me, expression surprisingly soft. "Good different. It feels like a home."
"That's the idea." I step into his space, rising on tiptoes to brush a kiss against his lips. "Welcome back."
His arms come around me automatically, drawing me closer for a proper hello kiss. I melt against him, still amazed at how quickly this has become natural between us. When we part, he keeps me in the circle of his arms.
"Ridge texted," I tell him. "The town grapevine has informed him of our supposed marriage."
Jared winces. "What did you tell him?"
"That I'll call him later to explain. Which means we need to get our story straight." I poke him in the chest. "This is your fault, you know."
"How is this my fault?"
"You're the one who told Dr. Matthews I was your wife without giving me any warning. Now the whole town knows, including my foster brother who is probably plotting your demise with his girlfriend and step daughter to be as we speak."
"I'll talk to Ridge. Explain the situation."
"We'll talk to Ridge," I correct. "Together. Like the happily married couple we're pretending to be."
He tucks a curl behind my ear, the gentle gesture sending shivers down my spine. "Are we still pretending?"
The question hangs between us, laden with meaning. Three days of kissing and cuddling and shared meals and domestic bliss, but we haven't defined what this is. What we are to each other beyond a business arrangement that's rapidly becoming something much more complicated.
"I don't know," I admit. "What do you want this to be?"
His thumb traces my cheekbone. "More than pretend. But I'm not sure what that looks like yet."
"Me neither." I press my palm against his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat. "But I like where it's heading."
"Me too." His smile is small but genuine.
We stand there in his kitchen, grocery bags forgotten, just holding each other in the soft glow of the Christmas lights I hung. It feels perfect. Real. And that scares me a little.
Later, after we've put away groceries and made dinner together, we curl up on the couch with glasses of wine. I'm nestled against Jared's side, his arm around my shoulders, my feet tucked under me. The fire crackles in the fireplace, casting dancing shadows across the room. Outside, snow falls gently, adding to the already substantial blanket covering the mountains.
"This feels like a Hallmark movie," I say, gesturing around us. "The decorated cabin. The fire. The snow. Two attractive people falling for each other at Christmas."
"Except Hallmark movies fade to black before anything interesting happens," Jared murmurs, his lips finding the sensitive spot just below my ear.
"Mmm." I tilt my head to give him better access. "And what interesting things did you have in mind, Mountain Man?"
His answer is to take my wine glass and set it aside, then pull me onto his lap so I'm straddling him. His hands settle on my hips, warm and strong. I loop my arms around his neck, admiring the way the firelight plays across his features, highlighting those impossibly blue eyes and the scar that only enhances his rugged appeal.
"You're staring," he says, voice rumbling low in his chest.
"Just appreciating the view." I trace his jawline with my finger. "Has anyone ever told you that you're ridiculously handsome?"
"Not recently."
"Well, you are." I press a soft kiss to his lips. "Unfairly so."
His hands slide under my sweater, warm against my bare skin. "You're beautiful, Jen. Inside and out."
The sincerity in his voice makes my chest tight. This is moving beyond physical attraction into dangerous emotional territory. The kind that leaves lasting scars when it ends. And this will end. In just over a week, Aunt Mildred will leave, our arrangement will conclude, and I'll have no reason to stay in Jared's cabin or his life.
But with his hands on my skin and his eyes locked on mine, I can't bring myself to care about future heartbreak. Not when the present feels this perfect.
I kiss him deeply, pouring all my confused emotions into it. He responds immediately, pulling me closer. One hand tangles in my hair while the other explores my back beneath my sweater. I rock my hips against him, drawing a low groan from his throat.
