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“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since we met. It’s a miracle I still have all my fingers.” He leaned forward and caught one of her hands in his. “There’s something about you, Christie.” He ran his thumb over her knuckles, and heat spread over her skin at his touch. “I’m glad I’m getting the chance to get to know you better.”
“Me too, Luke.”
He smiled wide, his dimples flashing. “So . . . I wanted to ask you. At the parade, when you said that it wasn’t a good idea for you to get involved with a guy right now, what did you mean? Why isn’t it a good idea?”
Christie opened and closed her mouth, her stomach pushing up into her throat. They were just getting to know each other, and if she told him the whole sordid story right now, it would ruin everything. Now wasn’t the time to tell him. Ignoring the guilt churning through her at her white lie, she smiled. “Oh, only that I’m new in town, still getting settled, and I just broke up with someone a few months ago. That kind of thing.”
He gave her hand a squeeze. “I’m damn glad you changed your mind.”
“So, I, uh . . .” She swallowed, her nerves flaring up at his touch and once again tampering with the connection between her brain and her mouth. “I heard you stole a pig statue once.”
Really, brain? Eight years of college, and that’s what you come up with?
He laughed and settled back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his mouth. “I did. Who’d you hear that old story from?”
“One of the nurses I work with.”
He nodded, and she could tell he was remembering. “It was a long time ago, but yeah.” He started telling her the story, and they eased into conversation. She loved listening to Luke, loved watching his face and his hands as he talked. By the time their food arrived, she had tears in her eyes and her stomach hurt from laughing.
It was the best first date she’d ever been on.
* * *
They’d spent hours at dinner, eating, talking about anything and everything, drawing it out over desserts they were too full to enjoy and coffees they were far too awake to really need. Luke couldn’t remember the last time in his life three hours had gone by so fast. She’d told him about growing up in Kentucky, her family, becoming a doctor, and her initial impressions of Cheyenne. He’d told her more about Cheyenne, Ethan, running his carpentry business, and what it was like to have a twin. They’d compared favorite movies, TV shows, and music, finding lots in common, and teasing each other about the differences.
He pulled his truck into Christie’s driveway just as light, fluffy snowflakes began to fall, drifting lazily to the ground, catching the light of the street lamp nearby. Just like on Saturday at the parade, the temperature had plummeted as soon as the sun had dipped below the horizon, and the digital readout on his truck’s dash indicated that it was only two degrees outside. Funny, he hadn’t noticed the cold as he’d walked Christie back to his truck after their meal. He’d been too focused on the feel of her hands clutching his arm. Immediately, a fantasy of being skin to skin with her, of lowering himself on top of her, had invaded his brain and hadn’t let go, and now he was walking around with a damn two-by-four in his pants.
He walked her to the door and stood with her on the front porch, watching her for cues as to how he should proceed. She hadn’t taken her keys out of her purse. Instead, she was standing mere inches from him, looking up at him with that sweet, lovely face.
A tremble ran through her, and with one tiny step, he backed her against her front door. He dipped his head and brushed his lips against the shell of her ear. Nuzzling his nose against the soft, heated skin of her cheek, he pressed his body against hers, and his nerve endings came alive at the contact, despite the layers of clothing between them. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted a woman as much as he wanted Christie right now. Surrounding her, he cupped her face with one hand, bracing his opposite forearm on the door. “You’re gorgeous, you know that?” He traced her bottom lip with his thumb, and her eyes sparked with heat. Surprising him in the best possible way, she parted her lips and took his thumb into her mouth. He sucked in a breath as her lips closed around him, her tongue teasing the pad of this thumb, the heat of her mouth in sharp contrast to the freezing air around them. His erection pressed painfully against his zipper, jealous as hell.
“Jesus,” he breathed, wanting her so much he felt like he was going to burst out of his skin. Needing to regain his quickly faltering control, he slid his thumb free of her mouth.
“Are you gonna kiss me, or what?” she asked, looking up at him through her lashes.
“Hell, yes.” He couldn’t get his mouth on hers fast enough, and as his lips connected with hers, every single thought flew out of his brain, replaced entirely with pleasure. Something deep inside his chest relaxed and melted as he took her lips, feeding the slow, burning hunger drawing them together.
She moaned softly and slid her tongue against his, her mouth hot and sweet and everything he’d known it would be. Slipping her arms around his waist, she pulled him even closer. He deepened the kiss, lips and tongues melding together, tasting and exploring. God, he could kiss her like this for hours, with her body pressed into his, her soft lips sending spirals of pleasure cascading through him.
He wove his fingers into her hair, angling her face to deepen the kiss even further. Her fists clutched at his coat, a gasping sigh escaping from her, giving sound to the urgency spreading between them. She rolled her hips against him, and his hard cock twitched, already aching for her.
Reluctantly, he broke the kiss, tearing his mouth from hers. “We should slow down.”
“You’re right. We should.” Her eyes locked onto his.
He meant to move back, step away. Really he did.
“Yeah. We probably shouldn’t . . .” He dipped his head and kissed her again, wanting more of her mouth. Wanting more of everything.
After several moments, she broke the kiss, her fast, shallow breaths puffing white around her. “We should stop.” She bit her lip and looked up at him, heavy snowflakes falling around them.
He pressed his forehead to hers and nodded. “Yeah.”
She tilted her head up and brushed her lips against his. “Yeah.”
“I should go.” He pressed her body more firmly into the door and kissed her again, unable to tear himself away from her, hoping that she wouldn’t send him away.
After a few too-short moments, she broke the kiss again. “It’s . . . it’s so cold out. You want to come inside, get yourself warmed up first?” Her already pink cheeks darkened.
