The whole street looks like something out of a Christmas movie—romantic, perfect, too damn easy to lose yourself in.
She licks her lips, and my control cracks clean down the middle.
“Eb,” she warns, voice breathy.
I lean down, close enough to see the tiny flecks of amber in her brown eyes.
“Yeah?”
“This probably isn’t a good idea.”
Her heart is beating harder now. Or maybe that’s mine. Hell, I’d wager it’s both.
“Probably not.”
And then I kiss her.
Soft at first. Testing.
But when she exhales this quiet, desperate sound—half sigh, half surrender—I lose it.
The taste of her is pure sin and cinnamon sugar.
Her hands clutch the lapels of my coat, pulling me closer, and I growl low in my throat because, fuck, this woman is everything I didn’t know I was missing.
For a second—maybe two—I forget about everything.
The app. The date contract. The holidays. The gala. The ridiculous fate-twisting magic that shoved us together.
It’s just us.
Her heartbeat against my chest.
My mouth devouring her soft little sounds.
The world fading to snow and heat.
When I finally pull back, we’re both breathing hard, our foreheads still touching.
“Eb,” she whispers, shaky. “You can’t just?—”
“I know,” I cut in gently. “But I needed to.”
Her brow furrows. “Needed to what?”
“To prove to myself this isn’t a mistake.”
She blinks up at me, uncertainty flickering in her gaze.
Then she takes a step back, wrapping her coat tighter.
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Rogers,” she says quietly. “I’ve heard enough of those for one lifetime.”
Her words sting, but I deserve that.
“I’m not like the others, Marigold.”
“Maybe not,” she says, frowning softly. “But I’ve learned not to trust sudden changes of heart—especially when they come with a billion-dollar grimace and a Badger growl.”
