Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63917 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 320(@200wpm)___ 256(@250wpm)___ 213(@300wpm)
I start running, or at least try to, but the snow makes it feel more like floundering through knee-deep mashed potatoes. Every step is hard won, and my legs are shaking with exhaustion, but I don’t slow down.
I keep moving, keep pushing, keep fighting through the storm.
She’s in there. She’s safe. And I need to get to her.
Finally—finally—I reach the steps, fight my way up to the front door, grab the handle, and haul it open.
The first thing I see is the fire in the large stone fireplace dominating the lobby. Then, there, beside it, silhouetted against the flames…Holly.
“Thank God,” I croak, certain I’ve never meant the words this much.
She jumps to her feet, spinning to face me as the wind gusts in. “Luke?”
Before I can speak, the storm knocks me forward, slapping me to the floor before slamming the door closed behind me.
Snow cascades off my coat, my hair, covering the hardwood before it starts to melt in the heat.
“I love you,” I rasp, the words breathy as I begin to shiver, and my head spins in a way that warns I might not be conscious for long. “I might be about to pass out, but I love you. I’ve loved you since you put your head on my shoulder at the tree lighting. Maybe even before. I’m s-sorry for being an idiot who didn’t know how to pull his head out of his ass. B-but it’s out now. Fully out and ready to f-fight for you.”
The words echo in the sudden silence, as I lie there, dripping and shivering and slowly realizing that I really am about to pass…
Eighteen
Luke
Warm…
I’m so deliciously warm.
I drift slowly toward the surface of my mind, too comfortable to worry about opening my eyes right away. There’s no rush, not when the blankets are perfectly heavy and being half-asleep feels so nice. My bedroom is even more peaceful than usual this morning. The only sounds are the gentle pop of the dying fire and, more distantly, the howl of wind outside.
Sounds like the storm is still raging.
The storm…
Memories float to the surface in fragments. The pub. The panic in Willow’s voice. My desperate search through the blizzard. Struggling up the steps to the town hall. Holly by the fire, the relief filling my chest as she spun to face me and then…
Then…nothing.
I try to remember how I got from the town hall back to my bedroom in the mansion, but my brain is sluggish. I feel like I’ve been drugged. Or like I hit the gym hard after a month off and not nearly enough protein beforehand.
I’m wiped out. Still, I should get up. Check on my brothers and sister, ask what happened last night. Make sure Holly is okay.
Holly…
More memories flood in.
I’m pretty sure I told her I loved her.
And then I passed out? I think?
And then…
Then, I woke up in bed with another body pressed against mine. A small, soft body that’s every bit as naked as I am…
My eyes snap open to firelight dancing across a dark ceiling and oil paintings of long-dead men in white wigs.
I’m not in my bedroom. I’m still in the town hall’s main lobby, sometime around midnight if the grandfather clock in the corner is to be believed.
And Holly’s here with me, curled against me in little spoon position beneath a pile of quilts I’m guessing she lifted from the Christmas quilt display in the “temporary exhibit” area. Her long, dark curls spill across the rolled-up quilt we’ve been sharing for a pillow, and I can feel the steady rise and fall of her breath against my ribs.
My heart stutters, then begins to pound.
She saved me. It’s the only explanation for waking up like this. She must have pulled off my wet clothes and bundled us both under the covers to bring me back from the edge of hypothermia.
I shift slightly, pushing up on one arm to catch a glimpse of her face in the firelight. One cheek is smushed adorably against our makeshift pillow, and her lips are slightly parted, letting out a soft mew of breath with every exhale, like a dreaming kitten.
She’s so beautiful it hurts to look at her.
So perfect.
So her, the person I want to wake up with for the rest of my life.
A wave of tenderness fills my chest to overflowing, and once again, I know with a bone-deep certainty that this is love. Hell, I’ve been awake for a good three minutes, completely naked under the covers with a woman whose body regularly sends me into dizzying lust spirals, and I haven’t had a single impure thought.
I’m working on a few, however, when she stirs, making a soft sound as she snuggles closer.
The curve of her ass brushes against where I’m quickly becoming inappropriately hard for a man in a “naked for reasons other than getting it on” situation. I shift away, but she pushes up against me again, wiggling her hips with a moan that makes my jaw clench.