His hand brushed hers. Warm. Solid.
She froze. Not because of her arm but because he didn’t move away. He was still close. Too close. Deliciously close.
The door swung open, and she practically stumbled inside, half from nerves, half from the fact that Liam’s presence was now fully short-circuiting her brain. She headed straight for the kitchen in the back.
At the center of the room stood a long, marble-topped worktable, cool and smooth to the touch, its surface usually dusted lightly with cocoa powder and powdered sugar. Copper mixing bowls hung from a rack overhead, swaying slightly as she brushed past them, and beneath the table were rows of drawers filled with candy molds, piping bags, and carefully labeled ingredients.
Cassidy made a beeline for the farmhouse-style sink beneath the window, flipping the tap on and running cold water over her arm.
Liam followed with that swagger of his, his gaze never leaving her. “Let me see.”
She held her arm under the water, trying to pretend this was normal. Trying not to look up and notice how good he looked in the soft glow of the twinkle lights she’d left on. Trying not to care that his voice had gone husky.
“I’m fine,” she said, but it came out as a whisper.
“You keep saying that. But you’re shaking.”
She swallowed. It was true, she was practically vibrating inside. But not from the hives.
“It’s nothing,” she added with a soft smile.
He stepped closer, his hand coming to rest gently on her waist as he leaned in to look at her arm. “You broke out in hives. That’s not nothing. Maybe you should have a doctor check it out.”
“No, trust me, I’m fine. Just a little allergic reaction, no big deal. I once had an asthma attack from a holiday spruce-scented candle, so really, this is nothing,” she rambled. “It’s totally fine. I mean, it’s not fine, but it’s like… normal not-fine. You know?”
He huffed a quiet laugh, but his hand didn’t move. Neither did hers, which had somehow settled on the front of his coat. She didn’t even remember putting it there.
He was so close. She could smell him—woodsmoke and pine and something undeniably him. Her gaze dropped to his mouth.
“This isn’t just in my head, is it?” she asked before she could stop herself. Her other hand was now on his waist. The water still running in the background.
He went very still. Then his voice came, low and rough. “No. It’s not.”
Her heart skipped.
In one whisper of a second, everything shifted.
The heat in his gaze made her dizzy. Her arm might’ve been on fire, but the rest of her was burning for entirely different reasons.
His fingers slid up her arm, careful to avoid her hives, but tender all the same. She tipped her face up just as he leaned in. His hand cupped her cheek.
And then?—
“Cassidy, honey? Are you back here? I brought that jar of candied pecans,” Mrs. Bishop’s voice called out.
Cassidy jumped back from Liam like she’d been hit with a snowball. He stepped back just as quickly, one hand scratching awkwardly at the back of his neck.
“Oh hey, Mrs. Bishop,” Cassidy called out, voice an octave too high. “I was just trying not to be killed by a Christmas tree!”
Mrs. Bishop’s head popped into the kitchen, holding a festive Mason jar with a bow tied on top. She took one look at Cassidy’s flushed face and Liam standing there looking very much like he’d been about to do something worth blushing over.
“Well,” Mrs. Bishop said, taking in the scene. “Didn’t mean to interrupt whatever… medicinal treatment was happening back here.”
Liam cleared his throat. “Cassidy was having an allergic reaction.”
“Uh-huh,” Mrs. Bishop said, setting the jar on the counter with a wink. “I’ll just… let myself out.”
Cassidy groaned, covering her face with both hands.
