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She planned to walk away. He could see it.
And for some reason…it pissed him off. “Gianna?”
“Yeah?”
“It’s not silly.”
Before she could protest, he lowered his head, intent on following through on the mistletoe tradition, on wiping away some of the vulnerability he saw in her eyes.
She raised her face, clearly ready to offer him a quick, platonic kiss. In fact, that was exactly what she gave him, but just as she began to back away, Elio wrapped his free hand around her waist and pulled her closer.
“I think we can do better than that,” he murmured—before giving her a much less platonic kiss.
Her lips were soft and warm against his, and she startled briefly when his tongue made an appearance. He stroked it along the seam of her lips, inviting hers to come out to play.
Elio wasn’t the type to do anything half-assed. Not hockey and certainly not kissing. And while he could tell she wasn’t as experienced as his past lovers, she was certainly making up for it with enthusiasm.
She parted her lips, offering him entry, and he didn’t hesitate for a moment, his tongue darting out to meet hers. She tasted like the wine she’d just taken a sip of, sweet and tart at the same time.
He was sorry her hands were occupied, holding the two wineglasses. He wouldn’t mind having them on him, feeling her fingers stroke his chest, maybe wrap around his shoulders. It had been too long since he’d had a woman in his arms, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever had one whose kisses impacted him quite like Gianna’s. Though he couldn’t put his finger on why.
There was an openness to her that he found himself responding to. Which was strange. He’d always felt like the one Moretti who didn’t quite fit, the one the stork most likely dumped at the wrong house. His family was tight knit, always together and in each other’s business, and while he was feeling that pull to belong lately, it hadn’t been very powerful the first thirty years of his life. Unlike his brothers and cousins, he’d also never felt the need to exert that overprotective gene around the women in his life. Probably because he hadn’t been around enough to see all the shitheads Aldo claimed Liza seemed to attract.
Gianna felt like the kind of woman he’d want to shelter, to defend, to…
Keep.
She sighed softly as he deepened the kiss, running his tongue along her lower lip. He wasn’t sure how much time passed before he recalled they were standing within plain view of everyone in the party. He pulled away, regretfully, forcing himself not to go back for seconds.
Gianna blinked several times as if to clear her vision. He took pleasure in realizing he hadn’t been the only one to lose his head.
Elio gave her a quick wink, hoping it would work at dispelling whatever the fuck it was that had just passed between them. He’d heard the term chemistry before, but he’d always chalked it up to female fantasy, a flight of fancy or whatever. But now…he wasn’t so sure it wasn’t a real thing.
Gianna’s cheeks were flushed an even brighter shade of red, though this time he knew it was driven by heat, not embarrassment.
They still stood close, her gaze locked with his, and he could read the confusion and desire there. He wasn’t sure how she was pulling off that combination, but that was definitely what he was seeing.
Elio had never taken the time to look at Gianna very closely, but now that he was, he had to admit she was very pretty with her shoulder-length blonde hair. She was medium height, which meant she was about a foot shorter than him. She was quite slim, almost too thin, which seemed to indicate her simple eating habits hadn’t changed. Her skin was fair, like porcelain, and her nose and cheeks were dotted with a light smattering of freckles that added to the wholesome air about her.
It occurred to him it was that wholesomeness that had probably kept him from noticing her before. That and the fact she’d had a serious boyfriend for as long as he’d known her.
“Whoa,” she breathed, not hiding the impact of that kiss.
After too many years spent with women who were accomplished in seduction, she was a breath of fresh air.
“I think we did the mistletoe proud,” he said.
“I’ll say,” Keeley chimed in, fanning herself, eyes wide. “Holy shit.”
Elio laughed, then turned his attention back to Gianna, and while she was the one who was supposed to practice flirting, he was the one doing it. “So…meet you back here in about an hour?”
Gianna rolled her eyes, responding to his words like they were a joke, when he wasn’t entirely sure they were. “You’re shameless. All you Moretti men got in line twice when they were handing out charm, didn’t you?”
“Three times,” he corrected, then decided it was probably a good idea to step away from…whatever this was. He hadn’t lied to his brother. Now was the time to focus on making decisions about his career, his future. There wasn’t room in his head for anything else.
“Merry Christmas, Freckles.”
She giggled softly, shaking her head in amusement at his nickname for her.
