Grant's pulse kicked up. "Like what?"
"Like ask if I can come home with you."
His grip on her tightened. "That would be stupid."
"Terrible idea."
"My dad's probably still awake."
"Probably."
"And we're supposed to be taking it slow. That’s what we told everyone."
"We are terrible at taking it slow."
Grant pressed his forehead to hers, breathing her in. "Riley."
"I know. I know." She pulled back, her eyes searching his. "Tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow what?" The hopeful tingle in his gut would’ve said yes regardless.
"Can I see you tomorrow?"
"You can see me whenever you want."
"Your farm's going to be crazy. It's almost Christmas."
"I'll make time."
Riley rose up on her toes and kissed him one more time—quick and sweet and full of promise. "Goodnight, Grant."
"Goodnight."
She climbed into her car, and Grant stepped back, hands shoved in his pockets to keep from reaching for her again.
He watched her drive away, her taillights disappearing into the snowy night.
Then he stood there for a long moment, breathing in the cold air, trying to get his head straight.
That kiss had changed everything.
He'd meant it to shut Brad up. To stake a claim. To show everyone—including Riley—that she wasn't some temporary thing to him.
But somewhere in the middle of it, when Riley had kissed him back with that same desperate want, when her hands hadfisted in his shirt like she was afraid to let go, when she'd pressed against him in the parking lot like she couldn't get close enough?—
He'd forgotten they were supposed to be faking.
Forgotten there was an audience.
Forgotten everything except the way she felt in his arms.
Grant climbed into his truck and sat there for a minute, hands on the wheel, staring at nothing.
Brad had been right about one thing. Riley was leaving after New Year's. She had a job in the city. A life there. She'd always planned to go back.
But what if she didn't have to?
What if Grant gave her a reason to stay?
