Page 243 of Midnight Curfew

I remember that night she told me she could leave after she sees snow, but she doesn’t say things like that anymore. Anna-Katherine hasn’t had an episode since living with Callum and me. No one fucks with her or ever will. She feels safe now.

I press my forehead to Callum’s. “And I’m excited for the nights.”

I don’t think I’m going to like the cold, and I definitely won’t remember my manners in this ritzy hotel he booked, but we do have our own room with a balcony and a fireplace and a hot tub.

Perfect place to ask him to spend the rest of his life with me.

I pull him in, taking his mouth in mine and wrapping my arms around him. I taste the cigar mixed with mint, his tongue stirring my insides until I can barely breathe.

Still holding him, I break the kiss and stare into his eyes, thinking back to our mission the last five years. Make the Bay too valuable for them to take.

I had no idea he was going to be the asset that made us priceless.

“What?” he asks me.

I just shake my head. “Just funny how life works out.”

But even if he brought nothing to the table, I wouldn’t care.

“I’m scared.” I swallow to clear my throat. “To lose you, I mean.”

His eyes play with me. “Well, it would serve you right to learn how it feels.”

I laugh with him, but I take his face and kiss him again. And again.

“Never stop loving me,” I say.

He grabs my hips. “I never did.”

I can feel him harden, and we’re about to get too heated for outdoor display here, but before I can tear myself off of him, we hear footsteps.

“Someday, this will stop being awkward,” my sister says.

I look up, seeing her and Clay walking by in swimsuits.

Fuck.

“Merry Christmas Eve,” Clay chirps, climbing down the steps into the pool.

I drop my arms, stepping back a few inches. I’m going to get hard if I keep touching him.

“Looks like we showed up in the nick of time,” Liv teases, sitting on the edge opposite Callum and hopping in. “You can’t go to bed yet.”

I take another drag of the cigar as Callum grabs his drink. “Why?”

“Dinner, opening-a-present tradition, Midnight Mass…” Clay drones on.

“We can sleep in tomorrow,” Callum says, but it sounds like a question.

Liv shakes her head. “Not too late.”

She pulls Clay’s back into her chest, and I blow out smoke, setting the cigar down in the dish.

My sister explains, “Block party Christmas dinner at three, weather permitting, and you guys need to set up tables.”

Great.

“I could’ve hired someone to do all this,” Callum mumbles to me.