Hollywood offers Flint the last half-eaten cookie. “Don’t say I never give you anything.” He grins, crumbs tumbling from his lips.
Flint rolls his eyes, ignoring the offering.
I slip my arms into my coat, smile and wave as I gingerly step out of the room.
Their laughter trails behind me as I walk out into the cold, the wind whipping around my legs, cooling the heat that still lingers low in my belly. A grin tugs at my lips despite the blush burning my cheeks.
“You got your car keys?” Flint says.
I pull them out of my purse and hold them up, a flurry of snow swirling in the wind.
“Text me when you get home.” He brushes a few strands of my hair from my face, and I lean into his warm palm. “I have some stuff to finish here.” He huffs out a laugh. “Including roasting the guys—shouldn’t take me too long.”
“All right.” My chest blooms with warmth at how his thumb caresses my cheek. It’s as if we’re a proper couple, even though nothing’s been made official. I do feel this man would walk on hot coals for me. Besides my nan, I’ve never had anyone in my corner before, but with Flint, I finally have somewhere I belong.
Chapter Fourteen
FLINT
Snow’s fluttering down by the time I pull into the drive. The cab smells like pine and wet leather, and the damn tree’s shedding needles all over my seats. I wrestle it out of the truck, sling it over my shoulder, and stomp up the path.
I step inside, boots thudding on the mat. She’s at the stove, the aroma of home cooking filling the space. Her hair’s tied up, she’s wearing one of my t-shirts and a pair of sweats fitted snug around her wide hips. Christmas music plays in the background, and for a second, I just stand there, watching her hum along as she stirs the pan.
She turns, eyes widening. “What on earth—” Her mouth curves, that soft, teasing smile that always gets me. “You brought a tree?”
“Yeah, figured the place needed something festive, and my sister’s Christmas sweaters aren’t gonna cut it.”
She wipes her hands on a towel, tilts her head. “Look at you, Chief. Turning all sentimental on me.”
“Don’t push it.” I set the tree down in the corner of the living room, shaking the dusting of snow from the branches.
“Dinner’s nearly ready.”
I glance over my shoulder at her. “Smells good.”
“It’s just pasta.”
“It’s home cooked, and you made it, so it’ll be good.” I cut the netting off the tree with my penknife. “We can decorate it after dinner.”
“I’ll serve up.” She goes back to the kitchen and sets out two plates from the cupboard.
I shrug out of my jacket and wrap my arms around her from behind and kiss her neck.
She tilts her head to the side, giving me better access. “I like that.”
“I told you I can’t stop kissing you. I just want my lips on you all the time. Even when I can’t touch you, I want you to know that it’s killing me not to.”
She turns around, her fingers scratching the stubble on my jaw. “Well, you don’t need to hold back now.” Her lips press against mine in a searing kiss, warming my body from the inside out.
The words I want to say are on the tip of my tongue, but it’s too soon to say them, so I spell them out for her instead, deepening the kiss, hoping she can sense just how I feel about her.
I reach into my pocket. “Got something for you.”
Her brows knit. “What is it?”
I hold out the hanging angel ornament, all clean with a new ribbon. “Found this when we went back through the rubble. Thought it was a goner, but managed to clean it up.”
“Nan’s angel,” she whispers, voice trembling.
