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Besides, she tended to keep the few New Year’s resolutions she made each year. Somehow she’d bet Riley did his best to keep any resolutions he made too. He just seemed like that kind of guy.
“After New Year is when everyone takes all their Christmas decorations down and gets on with their real life, instead of wasting a month dreaming dreams about a man in a red suit bringing them their heart’s desire.”
“Ouch.” He placed his hand over his heart and took a step back as if she’d struck him a vital blow. “You’re a mean one, Miss Gr—”
She held up her hand and squinted at him. “Don’t you call me names, snowflake.” She tossed a loose piece of mistletoe at him, smiling when he easily caught it and blew her a kiss.
She puckered up and kissed the air. Electricity sizzled between them and she clung to their conversation to keep her mind away from just how much she wanted to feel his lips against hers for real. “Not liking this superficial holiday that’s a bunch of marketing hype to get people to spend money that they don’t have does not make me a bad person…or a green one.”
His lips twitched, as if he knew what she was doing, as if his lips had a few wants of their own. “Agreed, but I’d really like to know why someone who’s as sweet as you wouldn’t like the most wonderful time of year.”
“First off, whether or not Christmas is the most wonderful time of the year is a matter of opinion.” Was he moving closer or was she imagining that the distance between them was shrinking? Oh, please, let the distance be shrinking because if he didn’t kiss her soon, she might just bury herself in mistletoe and present herself to him. “Obviously,” she continued, as if her heart wasn’t pounding in her chest, as if every cell within her didn’t leap toward him, “I am not of that opinion.”
“Second?” He’d definitely moved closer. A lot closer. She could feel his body heat, could feel his breath brush across her lips, could smell his musky male scent that sent her senses into hyperdrive.
“Second…” she stared into his eyes, her lips parted, her pulse throbbing “…you don’t know me well enough to know how sweet I may or may not be.”
“I disagree.” He covered her mouth with his, moved his lips in a caress that was teasing, tasting, erotic and sensual. Hot and demanding. Everything she’d just been longing for. Him. His kiss made her feel as if someone had strung lights on her and she twinkled from the inside out.
“Oh, yeah, you’re sweet,” he whispered against her lips when he pulled back. “Sweet as candy canes and gumdrops.”
“Right,” was all she could manage, because what she really wanted was to pull his mouth back to hers. Desperately she wanted another kiss, wanted him. That terrified her. “Let’s get this tree decorated so I can go home.”
After a brief pause, in which he studied her, Riley threw his head back in laughter. “You know, princess, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you like me even less than you profess to like Christmas.”
“Good thing you know better, then, eh?” she retorted, handing him one of the new strings of lights. “Get to hanging or I’m out of here.”
Because at the moment she was having a difficult time recalling all the reasons she shouldn’t want him and needed not to trust in him.
“Yes, ma’am.” With a wicked gleam in his eyes he reached for the mistletoe and went to hold it above her head. “I’ll start with your favorite decoration.”
“No!” But she ruined her denial by having to suppress a laugh. She pointed to the tree. “Decorate.”
He gave an exaggerated sigh. “I didn’t know you were such a slavedriver.”
She gave him the sternest look she could muster when he looked so darned cute and remorseful with his mistletoe. “Like I said, there are a lot of things about me you don’t know.”
“Yet,” he clarified, with what she was quickly realizing was his usual optimism. Or was stubbornness a better label? “Don’t worry,” he continued. “I plan to know everything there is to know about you, princess.”
Lord, she hoped not. She’d come to Pensacola to escape people who knew everything there was to know about her.
“You’ll be coming to me to find yourself,” he added, his expression way too confident.
She hoped not on that too because she never wanted to let anyone that close ever again.
“Here, you save this for later.” He tucked the loose piece of mistletoe she’d tossed at him into her scrub top pocket. “Any time you get the urge, you just wave that and I’ll pucker up.”
She rolled her eyes but couldn’t keep her fingers away from the cheap plastic greenery in her pocket. “Like a red flag in front of a bull?”
He chuckled. “I hope I have a little more finesse than that.” His brow furrowed in mock concern. “I do have more finesse than a stampeding cow, right?”
She gave a little shrug. “Maybe.”
His brow rose.
“Okay,” she confessed. “A little.”
“I’ll settle for that for now, but later we’ll renegotiate your thoughts about my finesse.”
