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“God, I like you,” he said.
“Then come home with me,” I offered. “I’m just a few blocks away. I know you’re curious about my backsplash, right?”
I waited, wondering if I’d said too much again.
I was beingcrazy, inviting him home, right?
But he picked up his beer and tossed the rest of it back in five seconds flat. “Don’t have to ask me twice.”
Adrenaline shot through me as I attempted to finish the rest of my margarita. It had been a shot in the dark asking him to come home with me at all, and I sure as shit hadn’t known whether he’d say yes or not. But soon we were tossing cash on the bar and my heart was pounding faster in my chest. I headed over toward the Fixer Brothers, thanked them for inviting me, and got words of encouragement from all of them on the hottie I was bringing home.
And then I was heading back out into the cold December night, with Rome right beside me. The rush of adrenaline had become a full-blown five-alarm fire in my body.
As we were walking down the set of wooden steps on the front patio of Jade Brewery, I stumbled on one of them, almost face planting right into a mound of snow.
Rome caught my arm.
“Whoa, whoa,” he said. His firm grip was comforting on my upper arm. “You alright? I didn’t think you’d hadthatmuch liquor in the margarita.”
I took a deep breath, trying to regain composure. His face was framed by a halo of decorative lights just behind him—lights he’d hung up, himself, probably an hour ago.
He sure as shit looked like a Christmas miracle to me.
“No, it’s definitely not the liquor,” I said. “I don’t feel drunk, I’m just freaking out.”
His brow furrowed. We stopped there at the edge of the stairs, on the path that led down to the parking lot.
“Freaking out?” he said. “I don’t like the sound of that.”
“No, no,” I said. “Freaking out in a good way. A very good way. I promise.”
He lifted one eyebrow. God, how did he look so sexy even doing something as simple aslifting an eyebrow?I hated it. I loved it.
“You sure?” he asked me.
“Listen,” I said, “I was surprised you even looked my way when I walked up to the brewery. The fact that you’re coming home with me feels like winning the lottery. I just don’t want to fuck it all up before we even get there, like I seem to be way too good at doing.”
A gentle wind blew a lock of his hair to one side. He got a sympathetic look in his eyes, almost like he wanted to protect me somehow.
“Well, whoever you’ve ‘fucked it all up’ with must be different from me,” he said. He took a step closer to me, and I could feel the warmth of his chest near mine. “Because I’ve wanted you more every minute we’ve spent together.”
I could barely handle having those eyes on me. I let out a soft moan as his warm hand found its way to the side of my neck again, gently gliding up toward my hair.
He leaned in for another kiss. This time it was soft. Gentlemanly and polite.
He was kissing me like someone might kiss after a nice, simple first date. He was as sweet as he was sexy, apparently.
He pulled away, looking me in the eyes.
“I get the sense that you want someone to take care of you,” he said, his voice deep and velvety. “So, if you want, I would fuckingloveto take care of you tonight, Casey. No more, no less.”
“That sounds like the best thing I’ve heard in a long time,” I said softly.
He reached down to hold my hand. “Lead the way?”
For the short few blocks back to my house, I felt like a giddy teenager. Rome kept his fingers laced through mine, and the feeling of his hand in mine was more intoxicating than any alcohol could have been. As we walked, Rome pointed out every decoration that his company had put up around town, and then the other decorations, which were far inferior to his, of course. Soon the main street gave way to quieter streets full of houses and tall trees, and Rome was nothing but encouraging. He loved every type of decoration that people put up on their homes, even if they’d only used simple strings of lights across their house.
“I can’t help it,” he said as we approached my house. “I’m well into my forties, and I’ve never gotten sick of December. People talk about the childhood magic wearing off, but it never did, for me.”
