I swallowed hard, an ache expanding in my chest. “What if I’m still angry with you?”
Luke shrugged, his shoulder bumping mine. “Then yell at me, I don’t care. But keep talking to me. Six years is too damn long.”
I was about to respond when Luke suddenly stiffened beside me, his gaze fixed on something beyond the sleigh. I followed his line of sight to see Mioko peering out from Crossroads Coffee’s front window, her dark hair unmistakable in the dim evening light.
“Our matchmaker is keeping tabs,” Luke said, a hint of mischief creeping into his voice. “Should we give her a show? Maybe cuddle a little?”
The question hung in the frosty air between us. I looked at him—really looked—and saw the boy who’d been my closest ally and strongest supporter for years.
His eyes held that familiar challenge, the one I’d never been able to resist, not when we were building tree forts, stealing apples from Old Man Granger’s orchard, or staying up all night to watch meteor showers from the roof of the inn.
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
Luke leaned in slowly, wrapping his arms around my waist and burying his face against my throat, his breath peppering across the sensitive pulse point there. I turned and looked towards Mioko, still watching, and shifted, pushing him back against the cushioned corner of the bench seat, cupping my hand around his throat.
“You don’t have to,” he whispered.
“Yes, I do.”
Six years of anger and longing crystallized into a single moment as our lips met, soft and tentative at first, then deeper, more searching. Something inside me snapped.
He was mine. He was supposed to be mine, not just a friend, but fully and completely mine. It was insane that I’d never seen it before. Or maybe I had, and I’d been too scared of him leaving to admit it.
A growl rose from my throat as I took control, my hand sliding around the back of his neck as I climbed halfway into his lap, pushing him back against the wooden sleigh frame, pinning him down as I devoured his mouth. He yielded beneath me with a soft moan that sent fire racing through my veins, arms wrapping around my neck as he arched up into my touch.
“Jesus Christ on a popsicle stick, get back in your goddamn seats!” Walt’s voice cut through the haze of desire. “This ain’t a bedroom, it’s a family establishment!”
With effort, I settled back onto my side of the bench, my body thrumming with need. My face felt flushed despite the cold, and I couldn’t catch my breath.
Luke leaned against me, his expression cheeky as he nuzzled my shoulder. “That was hot. I didn’t know you had that in you.”
“Yes, you did.”
“You might be right. There’s a part of me no one has had, and I’m pretty sure it’s because it’s yours.” He leaned in closer, nipping at my earlobe. “I’m talking about my hole.”
I snorted. “I realized that.”
“Just making sure you’re completely aware that no one has been inside me, Eli. Ever.”
The words hit me like a physical blow, sending a wave of feral possession surging through my body. After six years, he’d kept that part of himself for me alone. I fought the urge to mark him, claim him in Walt’s sleigh with the whole town watching. Instead, I just looped an arm around his waist and held him close.
“I hope Mioko’s satisfied with her scheme,” I said, adjusting my jeans.
Luke grinned, the mischievous expression so familiar it made my chest ache. “You like her. Do you want her for us?”
“For us?”
“Like we used to talk about.”
“Sweetheart, we were kids. That plan was about how we’d get married and still be best friends, not about fucking.”
“Marriage includes fucking,” he shrugged. “You know, maybe we should show her what happens to people who meddle in our business.”
I’d never been able to resist that look in his eyes, and apparently, I still couldn’t.
Chapter 8
Luke
