Page 77 of Cozy Little Christmas

“Sorry,” she murmured. “Not my business.”

“If you must know,” he said after a beat, “I’ve had one long-term relationship since I left Shelter Springs.”

Since he left me, she thought, the old wound throbbing with unexpected pain.

“It lasted about a year, but we broke up two years ago,” he went on. “I haven’t dated anyone seriously since then.”

“Why not?” she asked, trying to make it sound like casual curiosity.

He bent to set the water bowl down. “I couldn’t really say. I haven’t had a lot of time. Between my mom and work and everything else, I guess my love life hasn’t been a priority.”

A different kind of silence settled between them again, not quite as comfortable. After sipping from his water bowl, the dog stretched out on the floor, sighing deeply.

Behind the closed door to the kids’ room, she could hear only the faintest rustle. Riley turning over, perhaps, or Carter kicking off a blanket.

“What about you?” he asked softly. “Anybody serious for you since . . . we were together?”

She wanted to toss out something flippant. Sure, she had dated every available guy in Lake Haven County and had fallen in love a dozen times. Anything that would shield her from the raw, vulnerable truth. But lies had never come easily to her.

“Not really,” she said. “I’ve dated a couple of guys here and there, but nothing really clicked.”

You broke my heart like a Christmas piñata, she thought, and I’ve been trying to glue the pieces together ever since.

Hannah’s fingers worried the hem of her soft cotton pajama top as the quiet settled around them.

She felt exposed under his gaze, like he could see right through all the careful defenses she’d built. The smart thing would be to retreat to her own bed, to maintain the safe distance they had established. Instead, she found herself taking a half step closer.

He seemed to move at the same time and the space between them shrank until they were only a few feet apart, close enough that she could see the tiny flecks of gold in his eyes.

“Hannah,” he said.

Only her name. Soft and rough all at once.

Then his mouth was on hers. The kiss was gentle, almost questioning, but she answered without hesitation, leaning into him, her fingers curling into the front of his T-shirt.

In an instant, she was transported back to that long-ago night after the skating rink. The air had been bitterly cold then and she had been shivering as they stood beside her car, neither of them wanting to be the first one to end the evening.

“You’ll freeze if you stand out here much longer,” he had said.

“Maybe you should kiss me, then,” she had blurted, half joking, half terrified.

Wes had gone still, eyes searching her face. Then he had offered that slow, gorgeous smile she loved and bent his head.

Their first kiss had been tentative, almost clumsy, his lips firm and warm against hers, the whole world narrowing down to the press of his mouth, the warmth of his arms around her, the sound of her heartbeat hammering in her ears.

She wasn’t sure how she drove home that night but she remembered floating back into her parents’ house afterward, certain nothing in her life would ever be the same again.

Now his mouth was more confident, no hesitation in the way he angled his head, the way his hand slid to the small of her back to pull her closer. The taste of him was painfully familiar, of cinnamon and chocolate and something unique to Wes Kenner.

All the aching loneliness of twelve years since he had walked away from her seemed to surge up at once. She kissed him back with everything she had tried so hard to bury, her fingers sliding up into his hair, her body molding against his as if it had been made to fit there.

His other hand skimmed along her ribs, his fingers hot even through the thin cotton of her pajama top. A small, helpless sound escaped her. He deepened the kiss in answer, his tongue tracing her lips until she opened for him.

She lost track of time, of where they were, of the thin hotel room walls and the sleeping children and the snoring dog.

She was aware only of Wes and the delicious wildfire racing through her veins—and the terrifying, beautiful realization that a part of her had never stopped loving him, no matter how hard she tried.

Chapter 24