“Your breath smells amazing.”
I laugh, my eyes closed, my cheeks bumping against his. “You’re smelling my breath?”
“I wouldn’t normally, but you don’t know how much I love these cookies.”
“I think I know what you mean.”
Our noses and cheeks are touching, and our lips graze every time we speak. As much as I want to make out with Coop, there’s something deliciously intimate about this … conversation.
But it’s time to move this kiss along, dang it.
I jut my bottom lip out, flapping his with mine. Coop stills, so I do it again, this time letting it linger just below his bottom lip.
And then I tug his lip between mine, and it
Is
On.
HONK! HONK! HONK!
I open my eyes and see lights moving. I moan against Coop’s mouth. “Of all the lousy timing.”
He makes an aggravated growl and pulls back from me just enough to brush my hair out of my face. Then he presses his lips to mine softly, holding it there long enough to earn another honk. We break apart. His lips are the slightest bit chapped, and I make a mental note to put lip balm on before we kiss again.
“This conversation isn’t over,” he says. He sits and buckles up, and I mope but do the same. “Would it have killed emergency services to wait another hour or two?”
“Just an hour or two, huh?” I ask, biting my lower lip.
His eyes burn, and I catch fire. “Sugar Plum, that’s what I’d need to warm up. I could kiss you for days.”
“I guess we should schedule our next date, then,” I say. “When do you get back?”
Coop grimaces. “Shoot. I forgot to check in with my parents. And my phone goes on do not disturb mode automatically at night. She’s probably losing her mind.”
The traffic is moving slowly, as we all funnel down into two lanes. The accident is almost a half mile ahead, but we’re moving steadily enough now. “What’s the flight situation?”
He closes his eyes. “Canceled.”
“How about Midway?”
His fingers are a blur on his phone keyboard. He waits and I watch the road. We’re creeping toward the accident, but once we pass, we’ll need to have a decision quickly about where we go—the airport or … not.
“First available flight is the day after Christmas.”
“Can you fly into another city and rent a car? Or … you could take a bus to another city so you can get some sleep and then drive straight?—”
“How did that work out for the mom inHome Alone?“
“I’m serious, Coop! There has to be a way to get you home for Christmas!”
“It’s over 20 hours of nonstop driving. I already checked the Greyhound schedule, and it’s full.”
“Take Nate up on the offer to use his jet!”
“I’m not using Nate’s jet.”
“But it’s already Christmas Eve!”
