“Sheriff Callahan,” someone called, and half a dozen heads turned his way.
Rush lifted a hand, forcing a nod as kids darted past and someone clapped him on the shoulder. One elderly man in a beaver hat stopped long enough to thank him for checking on his wife after her fall last week. A boy in a red puffer coat askedhim where Riggs was. Down the street, a group of teenage girls yelled something that sounded suspiciously like “Sheriff Sexy,” as they ran off, giggling maniacally.
Rush never took his eyes off Lily.
Her cheeks were rosy pink, first from the cold, no doubt, but the longer he stared at her, the deeper the flush grew. Her curls escaped from under her hat, and a scarf looped around her neck, hiding where else the blush covered. She looked like every one of his fantasies, and she was waiting for him.
He reached out and took her mittened hands and pulled her into his chest just to breathe her in for a moment. She smelled like lavender, and she was warm against his chest. He meant to let go, but she tilted her head back to look at him, and he couldn’t move.
“Hi,” she said. There was glitter on her cheek, probably from the halos, and the sight did something to him. He wanted to devour her right here, drag her back home, strip her clothes off, and bury himself in all that sweetness. When he’d turned into a caveman, he didn’t know, but Lily had always brought out his basest instincts.
See her. Want her. Keep her.
He shook his head at his ridiculous thoughts.
“Hey,” he replied. It came out rougher than he had intended. He cleared his throat and tried again. “You look beautiful.”
Color bloomed in her cheeks. “So do you. I mean—you look handsome.” She laughed self-consciously, and he forgot to breathe.
Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Ben, in full uniform and on patrol. He gave Rush a quick two-finger salute, smirking when he caught sight of where his attention was focused.
A painfully sharp note from a caroler inside sliced throughhis haze, and he eased back another inch, pulse still hammering away, to find her green eyes dancing.
“Those are my students,” she said, nodding toward the studio’s door. “I’d know Bash’s pitch anywhere.”
Right on cue, another off-key blast from “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” made them both wince.
“Aren’t you their director?”
“Evie’s in charge of the vocals and acting. I can only take credit for the choreography. I did my part earlier, so I could walk with you now. Let’s go,” she said, tugging his hand. “You can see the whole thing come together next week, if you want,” she added almost shyly. “I know you might have plans with your family, but…”
Rush shook his head. “Only plans I have are with Riggs.”
The sidewalks were jammed full of people bundled up to visit Northfield for the annual Candlelight Night. The village went all out with decorations, and all the shops and businesses on Main Street handed out hot chocolate and cookies. Horse-drawn carriage rides, a visit from Santa, and ice-skating on the canal, which had been drained to create a skating rink surrounded by string lights.
It wasn’t really his thing to wander in crowds, but Lily stopped by each shop, waving and hugging everyone, and he was content to simply be in her orbit. She was clearly known and loved by many. It wasn’t hard to see why. With Lily, her sweetness wasn’t an act. It was bone-deep, and she poured it out on everyone she touched. He couldn’t help wondering what it would be like if she ever gave it all to him.
They wove their way toward the gazebo, where more carolers, older and more talented, from the sound of it, sang.
“Hmm,” Lily said, sipping her cider. “They’re pretty good. We should try recruiting them.”
“Not a terrible idea,” he said dryly.
She tipped her head up to look at him, her eyes sparkling with humor.
He couldn’t wait a second longer. He bent and kissed her, right there on Main Street.
Warm, sweet cinnamon and cider lingered on her pretty lips. When she parted for him, he caught her bottom lip gently between his teeth, savoring the little gasp of surprise she gave him.
People streamed past them on the sidewalk, but he didn’t care. Not when she was pressed against him, her mittened hands fisting his coat to pull him closer. He kissed her deeper, angling his mouth over hers, taking every bit she gave and giving it back.
He dimly registered the buzz of voices and boots crunching on the snowy sidewalks around them. Someone cleared their throat pointedly. It probably wasn’t a good look for the sheriff to maul the pretty ballerina in the middle of a winter festival, but he didn’t give a fuck.Caveman.
She made a tiny sound in the back of her throat—half sigh, half whimper—that nearly undid him.
It was too much, too public, too close to the edge. He dragged his mouth away from hers, breathing hard. Her eyes fluttered open, lips swollen and parted like she wanted more. She flicked her tongue across them as if she could still taste him.
A sharp shriek pulled his gaze toward the canal. The makeshift rink stretched wide under the lights, full of skaters looping the ice while little kids weaved around them, holding plastic chairs to keep them upright. His stomach turned over. He’d been avoiding looking that way since he’d arrived there.
