“Stop fighting this,” he murmurs. “Because where you go, I’m going. Where you stay. I stay.”
A tear slips down my cheek. He catches it with his thumb before it can fall.
“I don’t want us to be a fling,” I whisper, voice breaking wide open.
His breath shudders out, like he’s been waiting for those words.
“We’re not,” he says. “Not unless you walk away.”
I don’t.
I step into the warm circle of his arms, and rest my hands on his chest, feeling the strong, steady beat beneath my palms.
“Reid,” I whisper, blinking through more useless tears, “I already told my family about you. My dad was sure I’d be bringing you home for Christmas.”
His arms tighten around me, pulling me into his chest as he exhales against my hair, half relief, half possession.
“Good,” he murmurs against my temple. “It won’t be a shock when I show up.”
His lips brush my forehead, soft and sure.
“Heads up,” I whisper. “My dad is less than thrilled about the age difference.”
“Give me a week and I’ll be his favorite son,” he whispers back.
“My brothers are going to hate you.”
Jodi
Reid’s arms stay wrapped around me long after the last words fade into the soft hum of the inn lobby. I can feel his heartbeat against my cheek, steady with a strength I haven’t felt in years.
When he finally relaxes his hold, it’s only enough to tip my chin up with a knuckle.
“Come upstairs with me,” he murmurs.
The invitation shouldn’t make my breath stutter. But it does.
“Your room?” I ask, even though I already know the answer.
His mouth curves, slow, wicked, and warm.
“Unless you’d rather go to yours.”
Heat curls low in my stomach.
“We’d end up in the same place.”
“That’s the idea,” he says.
His shoulders ease, the tension melting away like sun-warmed snow.
We climb the stairs in silence, but it’s not empty. It’s thick with anticipation, both mine and his feeding off each other.
He unlocks his door, pushing it open, but doesn’t step inside. Instead, he rests one hand on the frame and dips his head toward me.
“A warning,” he murmurs, voice low enough to shiver through my bones and make my pulse jump.
“If you walk through this door with me, I’m not going to pretend I don’t want you.” His knuckles graze the side of my neck, soft but commanding. “I’m not going to hold myself at a distance anymore.”
