“Wait.”
My breath catches. “What?”
He leans in slow, hesitant, fighting it but failing and his voice drops to a murmur.
“You’ve got some on your lip.”
I freeze. “I do?”
“Yeah.”
He could tell me where it is. He could let me wipe it myself. But he doesn’t. Ethan reaches up, thumb brushing the corner of my mouth. He’s soft, careful and lingering. My pulse goes wild. He inhales softly, thumb still on my skin, eyes searching mine like he’s looking for permission he doesn’t know how to ask for.
I whisper, “Ethan…”
He moves slowly at first. Then with quiet certainty. Our lips meet and then everything inside me melts. His hand slidesto my jaw. Mine curl into his shirt. His breath catches against my mouth like he didn’t expect this to feel the way it does.
Like lightning. Like relief. Like something that was waiting to happen.
When the kiss deepens, it’s soft and sweet but also hungry in a way that steals my breath. Like he’s been holding back for days. Like he’s still holding back and this is just the beginning. When we pull apart, he rests his forehead against mine.
“Harper,” he whispers, voice rough, almost pained, “this … might be a bad idea.”
I don’t let go of his shirt. I can’t. “I don’t care,” I breathe. His hand tightens at my waist and neither of us moves away.
Chapter 14
Ethan
The moment our lips part, it feels like a crack in a frozen lake — silent at first … then unstoppable. Harper is still leaning into me, breath soft against my cheek, fingers curled in my shirt like she’s holding onto something she’s afraid to lose. Hell, maybe I am too.
Her forehead rests against mine, and I close my eyes because looking at her right now feels too intimate.
“Ethan,” she whispers, voice warm and uncertain all at once.
I swallow hard. “Yeah?”
Her fingers flex slightly in my shirt. She hasn’t let go. She’s not backing away. And every inch of her body is angled toward mine like she wants more — like she’s asking for it without saying a word. I should stop. I know I should. This is too risky. But her breath brushes my lips again and all my resolve shreds like old rope.
“This might be a bad idea,” I murmur, voice low.
She lifts her head enough to meet my gaze.
“It doesn’t feel like a bad idea.”
God help me. Her eyes are soft, wide, and luminous in the firelight. There’s something vulnerable there — trust, warmth, want — and it wrecks me completely. I have no armor against her. Not anymore.
I should pull away. Be the sensible one. Set boundaries. Say something practical like we’re tired or stressed or wrapped up in holiday nonsense. Instead, I lean in slowly, testing and hovering just above her lips.
Her breath catches with a tiny, desperate inhale — and it punches straight through me. She wants this. She wants me in a way I haven’t felt wanted in a very, very long time.
I kiss her again. This time deeper. Still gentle, but with intention. With the kind of hunger I can’t pretend I don’t feel. Her hand slides up to my neck, fingers threading into the hair there, pulling me closer. My entire body goes hot, tight, and alert. She tastes sweet from the chocolate and warm from the fire, and for a brief, dizzy moment, I think I could drown in this.
“Harper,” I say, but her name comes out too ragged, too filled with things I shouldn’t admit. She freezes — not pulling away, but waiting and listening. “I want you,” I confess quietly. “More than I should.”
Her fingers trail down my jaw in a slow, soft stroke. “I want you too.” Having her say those words does something to me. I pull her tight beside me on the king-size bed — the one where neither of us were supposed to drift. But, I’m not drifting. I’m diving into her like she’s the holy water that could save me.
Her mouth opens for me, soft and hungry. My hands want to touch her everywhere at once. I run my palm over her cheek first, then into her hair, burying my fingers at the nape of her neck while her arms go around my shoulders. She clingsto me, smaller than I expect, stronger than I imagined. She makes a little sound, soft and needy, and it spikes straight to my groin. Everything else drops away. The world, the fire, the fake marriage. None of it matters. Only her.
