Icreepthroughthehouse,carefully avoiding the floorboards I know to be creaky, hoping not to wake Matt and Alex. Unlike when they were little and were up at the crack of dawn to see what Santa brought, these days I can usually count on them to roll out of bed closer to nine.
At the front door, I pause to peek through the sidelight, and sure enough, a familiar, large, bearded man is standing on my front porch. I move quickly to unlock the door, wrapping my robe more tightly around myself as I step out to join him in the crisp morning air. Pulling the door closed behind me, I turn to face him. It’s still early, but beams from the rising sun glint off fresh snow at his back, causing me to squint as I look up into his stupidly handsome face.
“What are you doing here?” I hiss.
Grinning, he makes a show of taking me in, his eyes roving slowly over my body. I sigh, knowing what he sees—an exhausted woman who stayed up too late wrapping presents. Beneath my terry cloth robe, I’m wearing a ratty old t-shirt and a pair of flannel PJ bottoms with little grinches all over them. My short hair is undoubtedly a sleep-mussed disaster, and I reach to smooth down the cowlick I usually wake up with in the back.
“Cute,” he says, his voice tinged with amusement and … something else. Somethingmore. Something that causes my insides totwist in a way that might have had me panicking a month ago, but now makes me feel giddy and hopeful.
I shove the feeling aside to revisit later, rolling my eyes and crossing my arms. “I repeat, ‘What are you doing here?’”
Riley’s voice drops, and he moves closer to me. “Can’t a guy come by to wish his girl a Merry Christmas?”
My face heats at his words.
I missed being his girl.
He’s smiling, his eyes soft when I meet his gaze. His hand comes up, assisting me to smooth out my hair, and I let out a contented sigh—completely against my will—as I let him take over, his fingers deftly working through the tangles.
“You could’ve just called.”
“Could’ve,” he agrees. “But I wanted to see you.” He takes another step, closing the distance between us so were pressed together chest-to-chest. His hand stills in my hair, then he slides it down to cup the side of my face. “Maybe even … kiss you …”
His gaze drops to my mouth, and I can’t resist licking my lips as he leans in.
I love that he’s here.
That he wanted to see me.
Still, things are new, and I’m unsure of how I want to handle this when it comes to the boys. I promised them I’d let them know if things progressed with Riley, and I haven’t. Not yet, anyway, and I’m hyper-aware of the last time I was caught on the porch with Riley.
I’m hyper-aware of his proximity, too. It’s hard to ignore as his familiar scent washes over me. It’s so perfectly masculine and just …him.
Closing my eyes, I rise up on my toes to meet him. It’s done entirely without thought, as though he’s willed it to happen.
“I haven’t brushed my teeth yet,” I murmur against his lips.
“Don’t give a shit,” he whispers.
And then his mouth is on mine.
The kiss is sweet—languid and lingering. Everything falls away as I allow myself to melt into him. Into his warmth, into the moment. Despite my initial shock and hesitation at finding him on my doorstep, it’s exactly what I needed and the perfect way to start my day. The thought flits briefly through my mind that we should have been starting our days like this all along, that things could have been so different if only—
But I shut it down fast.
Things are the way they are, and that’s that.
And as Riley moves, softly pressing his lips to one corner of my mouth, and then the other, I can’t help but think the way things are now isn’t quite so bad. I’m unable to stop the whimper that escapes me when he eventually pulls away, though he doesn’t go far, his own reluctance to break the connection evident in the way he rests his forehead against mine and breathes me in. It’s chilly out, and our shared breaths hover, visible in the space between us.
“Merry Christmas,” I say softly, and he smiles.
“See? So much better in person.”
I sigh, then break from his hold, needing to create some distance as I’m reminded of where we are. “Yeah, it was,” I agree, wrapping my robe more tightly around myself, then glancing back over my shoulder at the door. “But the boys might be up soon.”
He rubs a thumb over his lips, watching me thoughtfully. Finally, he asks, “Is that a bad thing?” And, if I’m not mistaken, there’s a hint of vulnerability there. His eyes shine with hope, and I hate that I have to shut him down, but I’m not ready for that.
The boys aren’t.
