He picks up my bandaged hand. “Does it still hurt?”
I shake my head. He raises it to his lips and gently kisses my knuckles, his beard brushing against my skin.
I suck my breath in as he kisses my hand again, his bright blue eyes never leaving mine. His fingers brush from my ear down to my jaw as my heart hammers in my ears, my forehead damp. The fan’s soft whirring and my breathing are the only sounds as he leans down and kisses me.
Every nerve in my body lights up as his lips move on mine. I press my thighs together, my panties damp and my core on fire. His thick beard tickles my face as his tongue explores my mouth,his hand cradling my jaw. My nipples are hard points and I moan, craving his touch. His hand moves to my blouse, slipping between the thick cotton and my neck.
I pull away. Shaking my head, I stand. I’m a little unsteady on my feet and he rises to hold my shoulders.
“I’m sorry. I need some time. I thought I was ready, but–”
“Don’t you apologize, Peaches! You take the time you need.”
I grimace. “Do we still have a date?”
His face breaks into that joyful grin.
“You bet we do.”
Chapter Five
DECLAN
Leaning on the bar at Peppermint Lodge, I wipe the sweat from my forehead. The air is hot enough to scald a lizard, but people are still dancing. Some genius thought it was a good idea to light hundreds of little candles. Romantic, but it adds to the heat. A couple of kids are already napping under the buffet table. Flower garlands are pinned up everywhere, their heady rose scent reminding me of Georgia.
I take a sip of my drink, ice-cubes already almost melted, then nearly spit it out. It’s some god awful cocktail made with honey. No wonder they’re giving it away for free. There’s been a big drive to make Snowflake sustainable and the beehives are part of that. One of my brother’s colleagues, Griff, is responsible for keeping the bees in line. There’s so much honey that it seems like everything in Snowflake now has the stuff in it.
Beams stretch across the ceiling of the main hall and the doors are open onto the paved part of the outside space. It still smells of fresh paint. Some crazy guy tried to burn this whole place down months ago. A rebuilding project, funded by a couple of the local billionaires, has transformed the burnt-out shell of the extension. I missed the re-opening party, but there are events here every weekend and during the week.
I don’t usually go along to all the parties. In Snowflake, especially during the holiday season, you could spend every day and night at some event or other. I like the peace of the mountain, the crack of my ax or the buzz of my chainsaw. My brother thinks I’m a nut for wanting to be outside most of the time, but he’s happiest tinkering with an engine or shooting the shit with his firehouse buddies.
A rumble of thunder in the distance makes the room quiet for a second. There’s a vigorous round of applause as people point at Carl, who takes a bow, white beard bobbing. His weather predictions get a lot of shit, but his forecasts have never let me down. Anyone that works outside knows to pay attention to him.
A flash of lightning makes me raise my head. Georgia is standing by the door, looking at me shyly. She’s wearing a red silky-looking dress that skims her curves. Long sleeves again, but with a hint of cleavage. My cock is hard, pressing against the seam of my pants at the sight of her. She’s like a modern-day Marilyn, her gold hair curled in tumbling waves and her plump lips red to match her dress.
I put my drink down on the bar and walk over to her. Her cheeks flush as I approach, a delicate shade of pink. She’s wearing earrings that sparkle in the candlelight. It takes everything I have not to scoop her up, throw her over one shoulder and carry her out of there. My cock is so damn hard it feels like it might explode.
“You are gorgeous, Peaches. You must get tired of people telling you that? You look like a damn film star in that dress.”
“Thank you. And no, people don’t tend to tell me I’m gorgeous.”
“They should. It’s one hundred percent true. Can I get you a drink?” Another deep rumble of thunder outside.
“Thanks.”
I lead her over to the bar.
“Don’t get the honey cocktail, that’s my advice. Ruins the taste of good whisky.” I stare down at her. I could never get tired of looking at that beautiful face.
She raises her hand to brush her hair back from her face. She’s painted her short, bitten nails the same red as her dress. A surge of protectiveness runs through me, the same one I had at the hardware store. I’d jump in front of a train to save this girl. There’s something vulnerable mixed into all the glamor.
“I’ll have a glass of wine. That rosé looks good. So, do you have your work on show?” She peers up at me, brushing her hair away from her face again. Lightning flashes outside, reflected in the crystals of her earrings.
“Magnus, the guy who owns this place, insisted on it. He’s keen on repurposing stuff people discard in the forest or wood that would normally go for scrap. That table over there is one of mine.” I nod my head to the left as I hand her the drink. Our fingers brush and my cock twitches.
“It’s huge. Beautiful work. Did it take you long?” Georgia takes a sip of her wine.
“Three months. Albert found that one. Big ol’ pine came down on the north side of the woods. Had to cut it up before I hauled it back. See that frame over there? Around the mirror above the fireplace?” I point it out and she nods. “That’s part of the tree, too. But with a different stain.”
