God, she was beautiful.
She caught him staring and smiled. "What?"
"Nothing."
"You're looking at me weird."
"I'm not looking at you weird."
"You are."
Grant pulled her closer, lips close to her ear. "Maybe I'm just thinking about this morning."
Riley's breath hitched. "Grant?—"
"Can't help it."
"We said?—"
"I know what we said." He straightened, his arm still around her waist. "Doesn't mean I can stop thinking about it."
Riley's cheeks went pink, and she looked away quickly, but Grant saw the smile tugging at her lips.
"Want some hot chocolate?" he asked. "I need to warm up."
"It's not that cold."
"Humor me."
They made their way through the crowd to the hot chocolate stand, Grant's hand finding the small of Riley's back. The line was short—most people were still watching the tree—and they ended up at the edge of the square, near the alley between the bookstore and the bakery.
Riley took a sip of her hot chocolate and made a face. "Too hot."
"That's generally how hot chocolate works."
"Smart ass."
Grant set his cup on the nearby ledge and stepped closer. "What was that?"
Riley's eyes sparkled with mischief. "I said you're a smart?—"
He kissed her, cutting off whatever insult she'd been about to deliver. Riley made a sound of surprise, then melted into him, her free hand fisting in his jacket.
When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, Riley laughed. "You can't just kiss me every time I insult you."
"Why not? It's working."
"Is it?"
"You're not insulting me anymore."
"Give me a minute." But she was grinning, her eyes bright.
Grant kissed her again, slower this time, deeper. Riley's hot chocolate cup hit the ground—forgotten—as both her hands slid up his chest.
They were half-hidden in the shadows between buildings, the sounds of the celebration muffled, just them and the cold air and the way Riley tasted like chocolate and want.
"We should get back," Riley murmured against his mouth, making no move to pull away.
