“I can see why,” I say. “But it was more than that, Roan. You… you made me feel something. It was like you were singing just to me.”
“I was,” he says.
His eyes flash to mine and I realize that we’ve stopped under a streetlight.
Snow is falling softly all around us, but I’m transfixed by his gaze. His jaw flexes and his blue eyes are bright with longing, and something else too.
But I don’t have time to figure out what because the hand that isn’t holding mine is cupping my cheek as he bends to claim my mouth with his.
His lips are warm and demanding. A million tiny butterflies flutter in my chest as he kisses me like he’s trying to convince me of something I already know.
I’m not falling hard for Roan Connelly.
I’ve already fallen.
15
ROAN
It’s not that late when I get back to the farm, but it feels like about a million years have passed since we left for the Mingle this morning.
I stand next to my truck for a moment after I get out, drinking in the deep silence and hoping the cold night air might clear my mind a little. I know I should head to bed and not overthink things, but I’m still reeling from that kiss.
The second I let myself think about it, I can feel the softness of her cheek in my hand, smell the light vanilla that clings to her hair, and hear the way she sighed when I kissed her. Like she had been waiting for that kiss for a long time. Like she was happy.
It’s probably for the best that a crew of teenagers came laughing their way up the street a moment later. She pulled back, and I had to let her. But she didn’t seem upset that we kissed or say anything like weshouldn’t have done that or she just wanted to be friends.She just smiled up at me, her cheeks pink from embarrassment that we were almost caught, and I felt something warm and gentle curl around my heart like a kitten in front of a fireplace.
I brought her back to the shop afterward and walked her right to the door. Somehow instead of kissing her again, I managed to let her open up and go inside, promising to see me soon.
And standing on the sidewalk, watching until a light came on in her apartment, I felt this profound sense of peace.
My heart is still pounding, but this isn’t a frantic love. It’s a deep one, a love that will last.
Of course I can’t say anything like that out loud yet, or I’ll scare her away.
I blow out a deep plume of warm breath and decide to go inside. I could head over to my place, but I’m going to stop by Mom and Dad’s first in case Meg is still up. She was planning to do a sleepover with them, but I hate not saying good night if I have the chance.
I knock the snow off my boots and head inside. The house is dark and silent—I guess Mom and Dad got to bed early. And Buck probably won’t be back for hours.
But wow, it smells so good in here. Dad definitely had the slow cooker going while we were all out, and there’s no way I can resist poking around in the kitchen.
Sure enough, I find a container of chili in thefridge, and a pan of cornbread too. I pull out the chili and set it on the counter to fix myself a bowl.
It looks so good that I just dig in without even heating it up, and I guess I’m too lost in my thoughts to hear the front door because suddenly there are footsteps in the kitchen.
“You’re eating that cold?” Buck asks.
“It’s good cold,” I tell him through an enormous bite.
“I’ll be the judge of that,” he says, grabbing a bowl of his own and a huge spoon.
We stand by the sink together, looking out at the moonlight glowing on the snowy trees.
“You have to lock that down immediately,” Buck says suddenly. “You know that, right?”
“Taylor?” I ask, even though I know the answer.
“No, Santa Claus,” Buck says, shaking his head. “Of courseTaylor. She’s great, man, and she really likes you. What are you going to do about it?”
