My hands slide down to grip her hips, pulling her flush against me, and she makes a soft sound of approval that shoots straight through me. Her fingers tangle in my hair, tugging just hard enough to make me groan.
"We should stop," she whispers against my lips, even as her body presses closer.
"Should we?" I trail kisses down her neck, finding that spot below her ear that makes her gasp.
"People are working," she breathes, but her head tilts back to give me better access.
"In the main barn. We're alone in here."
As if to prove my point, I back her against the wall, my body pinning hers as I capture her mouth again. This time there's nothing tentative about it. It's all heat and need and the week's worth of tension finally finding an outlet.
Her hands slide under my jacket, palms flat against my chest through my shirt, and I can feel my heart hammering against her touch. When she nips at my lower lip, I nearly lose what's left of my control.
"Wyatt," she gasps as I lift her, her legs automatically wrapping around my waist.
The new position brings us flush together, and I can feel exactly how much she wants this through the denim between us. It takes every ounce of willpower I possess not to carry her to that examination table and find out what she sounds like when she comes undone.
Instead, I force myself to step back, setting her down gently. We're both breathing hard, and her lips are swollen from my kisses. She looks thoroughly ravaged, and the sight makes something primitive and possessive roar to life in my chest.
"Rain check?" I ask, voice hoarse.
She nods, smoothing her hair with trembling fingers. "Definitely."
The sound of footsteps approaches, and we spring apart just as Matty appears in the doorway.
"Sorry to interrupt," he says, though his knowing look suggests he has a pretty good idea what he interrupted. "Just wanted to check if you need help with that cabinet installation."
"We've got it handled," I say, picking up the drill with hands that aren't quite steady.
After Matty leaves, Emmy and I work in charged silence, hyperaware of every accidental touch, every stolen glance. By the time we finish mounting the cabinet, the air between us practically vibrates with unresolved tension.
"I should get back to the clinic," she says, gathering her things. "Mrs. Patterson's bringing her cat in this afternoon, and you know how she gets if I'm running late."
I nod, not trusting my voice. She pauses at the door, looking back at me with eyes that promise this conversation isn't over.
"The Christmas Eve party is tomorrow night," she says. "Seven o'clock."
"I'll be there."
The promise hangs between us like a vow. After she leaves, I stand alone in the renovated space, surrounded by the equipment that will help her save animals, the office where she'll build something lasting.
My phone buzzes with another text from Remy:
Remy
Whatever's happening up there, don't overthink it. Some things are worth the risk.
For the first time in five years, I'm starting to believe he might be right.
The barn feels different now, charged with possibility and the lingering scent of Emmy's perfume. Tomorrow night, the wholetown will gather here for Christmas Eve. Tomorrow night, I'll have to decide if I'm ready to let Hope Peak see what's growing between Emmy and me.
The thought terrifies and exhilarates me in equal measure.
I pull out my phone and dial Remy's number.
"Well, well," he answers on the first ring. "Change of heart?"
"Tell Aunt May she can come for Christmas," I say. "Both of you. There's someone I want you to meet."
