“Because I hate it. It reminds—” She cuts herself off, turning away again, but I’m already there.
I catch her wrist, turning her back to face me. “Reminds you of what?”
“Never mind.” But her breathing’s already changed, gone shallow and quick.
“You want to know what I think?” I back her up until she hits the wall. Her eyes widen, but she doesn’t tell me to stop. “ It reminds you of how good we were together. Doesn’t it?”
“Enrick...”
“Makes you wonder what it would be like now.” I brace my hands on either side of her. “Because now that we’re older, we know what we want.”
“And what do you want?”
“You.” I lean in until my lips hover just above the curve of her neck. Not touching, but she tilts her head anyway, baring her throat in unconscious invitation. “I want you in my bed, under me, over me, any way I can have you. I want you at my breakfast table looking thoroughly fucked and satisfied. I want you exactly where you are right now, looking at me like you’re trying to decide whether to kiss me or knee me in the balls.”
She lets out an unsteady laugh. “I’m leaning toward the second option.”
“Desiree.” I finally give in, nuzzling into the curve where her neck meets her shoulder, and she shivers. Her hands come up to my chest. “We’re probably stuck here for a few days. No running away, no hiding behind Patricia. Let’s figure out if this thingbetween us is just us remembering what we had, or if there’s actually something still here.”
“And then what?” Her voice shakes. “What happens when the snow stops? We pretend this never happened? I can’t do that, Enrick. I can’t do casual with you.”
“Who said anything about casual?” I meet her eyes. “What if we use this time to figure out what we are? What we could be?”
She leans into my touch for half a heartbeat when I cup her cheek, then she steps back. “I need to check on Bella.”
“Des—”
“Goodnight, Enrick.”
Then she’s gone, leaving me hard and aching and more determined than ever.
Outside, the storm rages on, and I smile.
Let it snow. Let it trap her here through Christmas morning. I’ve waited five years for a second chance with Desiree Reynolds—what better gift than time?
Heat Check
Desiree
My body aches from tossing and turning all night, and these silk pajamas sliding against my skin with every movement didn’t help. They kept reminding me of other things that could slide against my skin. Specifically, Enrick Hughes’s hands.
Get it together, Dez.
I reach for my phone on the nightstand, squinting at the screen. Multiple notifications flood in—weather alerts, flight cancelations, road closure updates. I scroll through them with growing dread.
FLIGHT UPDATE: Winter Bay International Airport remains closed.
“Great,” I mutter. “Just great.”
Two days before Christmas and I’m still trapped here. With him. With these feelings, I have no business feeling.
“Mommy!” Bella bursts through my door. “It’s a snow day! Uncle says we can’t leave the house ’cause the snow is taller than me! Isn’t that the coolest?”
“The coolest,” I manage, sitting up.
“Daddy says it’s time for breakfast!” She bounces on the bed. “He’s making pancakes shaped like snowflakes!”
Twenty minutes later, I emerge from the shower wearing designer jeans that hug my curves like they were tailored for me and a cashmere sweater so soft it feels like a hug. My braids are piled high in a bun, and I’ve managed to make myself look presentable despite having no makeup except the lip gloss in my purse.
