“Totally kidding. Dad is a rational man. He’ll just be happy you were looking out for me. Once, in high school, I had a date who let me drive home in the middle of a tornado warning. Dad about came unglued.”
Knox snorts. “Loser.”
“Yep.” I set my chin atop my knees. “I hear the guy’s in prison now.”
“No way?”
“You’re right. I just made that up. Don’t know why. It wasn’t even funny.”
Humor dances from the scold he tries to form. “Are you always this feisty first thing in the morning?”
Good one. If only he knew how many times I have to hit snooze before I’m conscious. “Not in the least.” I angle my face to the side. “Clearly, you bring something out in me.”
He laughs along, but then his gaze slides over me like warm honey. He takes slow, stalking steps and plants his fists on either side of my hips, coming so close our noses almost touch. “I could say the same about you, Miss Everly Anne.”
The artificially heated and dried out air sizzles. In my sleep, I dreamed of round two of our snow-kiss but assumed the morning was too soon to hope for another. But now…I cradle Knox’s cheek in my palm.
The melting heat in his eyes ignites, and he kisses me.
Last night wasn’t a fluke. The man is the best kisser on the planet. I run my fingers through his messy, morning hair, just one more utterly adorable thing about him.
Splayed across my back, his hands hold me close. I wrap my arms around his neck and do my best to kiss him as silly as he’s kissing me. The pressure and pleasure of his lips throw me into an alternate reality. Who am I? Where am I?
My arms tighten our tangle, and I drift toward the pillow.
But pressure on my back pushes me upright, and Knox peels mostly away, keeping only our foreheads sealed together. He’s as breathless as I feel. “Time for me to take you home.”
The one and only thing I want for Christmas is to haul him back into my arms and make reality stay away, but I let out a regretful sigh and drop my hands to my lap. Once I’m in my right mind again, I’m going to appreciate the heck out of Knox’s decency.
Knox warmed the truck up for ten minutes before helping me into the passenger seat, and the cab has become a sweat lodge two minutes into our homeward journey.
“Can we turn this down?” Anticipating his answer, I reach for the red and blue dial on the dashboard.
“Sure.” His hand makes it to the knob before mine, subduing the August-like blast.
Both of us are quiet. I figure Knox doesn’t need me yammering while he’s doing his darndest to keep us from sliding into a ditch. I watch his profile, his eyes glued to the road. His jaw is strong, indicative of his overall strength, and wildly appealing. How did I miss his charm even for a moment?
As for his mouth, I now know how wonderful it is to kiss. Far more enchanting than the last guy I made a mistake with.
Kissing Knox was nowhere near a mistake. But Ethan? Oh my goodness. How could I have been so stupid? From start to finish,that guy was a fraud. The mere memory sweeps a chill down my spine.
“You sure you don’t want more heat?”
“I’m fine,” I say as I savor the beautiful blanket of white coating the yards, bushes and rooftops along Chandor’s side streets. The skies have closed, yet a bank of slate clouds linger. Christmas lights left burning overnight still glow along rooflines.
The snow makes even the diner appear almost quaint. The weatherperson I watched on TV while Knox changed into jeans and a flannel shirt—in the bathroom, of course—said four inches of the white stuff fell overnight. That’s quite an accomplishment for this area.
The diner’s empty lot makes it pretty obvious Charlie’s is closed, and the reason should be self-evident for anyone with a brain. Nonetheless, with Knox’s help, I make a sign out of printer paper and black marker and tape it to the front door.
There are much worse things than clutching Knox’s arm, feeling the corded muscles bunch, and leaning into his sturdy side throughout the process.
Having a partner to lean on metaphorically wouldn’t be half bad either. I’ve reached my fill of single life. I’m more the settle down and do boring, real-life stuff type. I just want to do it withmyperson. Sure, we’ll have fun times, too, but what I crave most of all is someone to enjoy the simple things with.
Once my sentence—I mean, time—at Uncle Charlie’s has passed, I’ll find myself a house and get busy making it a home.
The bad thing is, my plan sounded more exciting before my time at Uncle Charlie’s. Before…Knox.
A gust of wind raises some flakes from the dead and whips them around the pickup as Knox drives me home.
