Page 32 of Wintertime Love (Holiday 2)

Finn stops walking and makes me face him, his hands coming up to my cup my face, the look on his face, unbearably tender. “This is the first time somebody’s cried for me in years.”

“I told you—” I try to cover up my moment of weakness.

He lets out a small laugh. “Yes, yes. It was the non existent wind.” He lowers his mouth to mine and kisses me softly.

As his cold lips press against mine, my eyes flutter shut, and I let out a small sigh. Like always, there’s a hum of electricity running between us, this vibrant spark that I can’t deny no matter how much I want to.

His lips move against mine, slowly, and he nibbles on my lower lip, tugging on it, playfully, before nudging my lips apart and tasting me. A moan escapes me when he sucks on my tongue, exploring my mouth, committing my taste to memory, and I lean into him, helpless against this kind of affection from him. It’s like time is standing still around us as he holds my face between his hands like it’s the most precious thing he’s ever held and his mouth worships me.

My heart is quivering in my chest and I don’t know why my eyes are wet but there’s something undeniably significant about this moment. I’ve never felt this way about another person and even as my mouth moves against his, deep inside another barrier falls and crumbles to dust.

I’m both terrified and exhilarated.

My hands curl up on his jacket and I hold on for dear life as he savages something inside of me and I let him. My emotions are all over the place and when he finally releases my lips, I rest my head on his chest, not ready to meet his gaze that has a habit of entrapping me. My breathing is harsh while his is just as unsteady and for a moment, it feels like he’s trembling.

“You’re a dangerous woman, Clara Winter,” he whispers into my hair.

I think to myself that the same could be said of him. But I don’t say anything.

We stand like that for a long time and I can smell his cologne, a scent that I have only ever been able to relate to him, a smooth woodsy scent that is pleasant and not overpowering in the least.

Finally, I clear my throat and say, “How about that hot chocolate?”

I raise my head and meet his gaze.

A troubled look passes in his eyes before it vanishes and is replaced by a grin. “If it makes you stop crying.”

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I scowl, and stepping back, I punch him on the arm. “I wasn’t crying.”

He laughs and then drags me closer till I’m tucked into his side, and we start walking. When I try to pull away, he tightens his grip on me, complaining, “I’m cold.”

“You’re such a liar,” I grumble but make no further attempts to shake him loose.

Since it’s late, the stand for the hot beverages is minutes away from being packed up but we still manage to get two drinks. Choosing to sit on the bench nearby, we warm our hands and drink the hot chocolate.

After a while, Finn says, lazily, “I much prefer the one you make.”

I snort, “That’s handmade and this is from the machine. Of course, there would be a difference.”

He turns his head to look at me. “Why are you always so defensive around me?”

I flush. “I’m not.”

He raises his brow. “Yeah, you are. It’s like you’re waiting for me to hurt you or something.”

“Don’t be absurd.” My voice doesn’t sound very convincing.

He studies me. “You really think I would hurt you?”

“You barely know me,” I retort, uneasily.

He’s quiet for few seconds then says, “I know that you’re a workaholic and that you love your diner. I know you like to bake or clean when you’re upset or stressed out. I know that you often skip dinner because you tend to forget to eat. You hate apples and yet you make the best apple desserts in town. You’re adored by the townspeople and you have a soft heart even when you try to act all prickly.” His voice is soft as he finishes, “And I know that what’s between us scares you.”

I swallow, my mouth dry, and stare down at my cup. “T-that’s a lot of assumpt—”

“Don’t,” Finn says, seriously. “Don’t try to belittle this. I have eyes, Clara. Ever since our date, you’ve made sure never to be alone with me. You’ve put up barrier after barrier. You come back late or sometimes just sleep in the office. You’re working yourself to the bone. Is it because of what I said? Is this because I’m thinking of setting up a branch of Expresso House right across the diner? Am I now the enemy?”

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