His warm breath fans against the back of my neck as he brings the zipper up the last bit, but his fingers stay exactly where they are. Neither of us moves while my blood turns to lava in my veins.
Somewhere in the last few moments, I forgot that I was trying to tease him. I may have been attempting to push him over the edge, but I threw myself right over with him.
I would giveanythingto see his face right now.
With a stuttered exhale, he takes a step back.
Chest rattling, I suck in a breath and then a few more, trying to stabilize everything in my body.
I turn to face him, whispering, “Thank—”
But my words die on my lips at thetorturedexpression on his face. His dark eyes are wide, his cheeks flaming the same color as his outfit.
Oh, I’ve won. I’ve fucking won this game.
His composure has slipped enough that I can see theneedburning through his body.
He licks his lips, his attention dropping to my mouth for a beat.
Swallowing my nerves, I take one step toward him, my toes bumping his. His whiskey gaze darkens on my lips like he can’t look away from them.
Fuck it, we’re already over the cliff together. We might as well crash at the bottom in each other’s arms.
I lift my chin, putting as much determination into my expression as I can.
If I could beg for one thing right now, it would be for Gavin to dip his head and bring his mouth to mine.
Just a taste.
His wide hands land on my waist, and every bit of focus in my brain is taken away from helping me breathe, and it’s all rerouted to the spots where we connect.
We’re pulling toward each other like there’s a force dragging us closer. Only a few inches separate us, and our collision feels unavoidable.
His grip tightens, and his eyelids flutter shut. “You’re a menace,” he breathes, but nothing about it seems like an insult. Instead, it sounds like the sweetest compliment.
My heart races as I grip the front of his suit and—
Tap, tap, tap.
Three hard knocks rattle the door behind me, and we jump away from each other, breathing heavily.
“You two ready?” comes Rosie’s sweet voice from the other side.
14
GAVIN
“My mom doesn’t want me to have a BB gun, but can you get me one?”
This kid on my lap—maybe his name is Felix, I can’t remember—blinks up at me, flapping his lashes like he thinks that might convince Santa.
Running a hand over my fake white beard, I deepen my voice to ask, “How old are you …”Is it Felix? Shit. I have no clue.
He flicks his fingers up one at a time until all five are out. Then he holds them in my face with a proud smile between his round cheeks. “Five. But my birthday is coming.”
I shoot a questioning look at Mrs. Claus, who’s standing next to the giant sleigh I’m sitting on. Elevated a few feet above her, I have to make a concerted effort not to look down the front of her dress. There’s only about an inch of her cleavage showing, but it’s enough to draw my attention every time I look her way.
Lena winces and gives a subtle shake of her head.
