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I blew out a breath. “Sorry. You…wow.”

Her lips quirked up at the corner. Damn, she knew her power. Why did that make her even hotter?

I cleared my throat. “I was looking for you and then I took out the notebook and it was ready to bust open.”

She dropped her arms and came for me. I mean, came forward. The slow roll of her hips and those legs of hers made me crazy. I couldn’t form a fucking thought. She tipped her head slightly and the scent of vanilla and honey flooded my senses. From the dusting of something shimmery on her shoulder to the glimmer of gold at her neck, ears, and wrists, she sparkled. She was a winter dream right in front of me.

And I was totally botching this. Again.

She took the notebook and dropped it into the huge bag over her other shoulder. “Thanks for keeping it safe. Ish.”

“I didn’t touch it. Well, I mean I looked at a few pages, but I didn’t hurt anything. It’s really amazing,” I finished lamely.

“Thanks. I’ve been collecting for a long time.”

“Just collecting?”

She stepped closer. “Guess I’ll find out Monday.”

“What’s Monday?”

“Do you really care, Callum?”

“Of course I do.”

“You’ll be gone by then, won’t you?” She tipped her head and tucked a heavy lock of hair behind her ear. “Better question is why are you still here?”

“We had a moment.”

“Yeah. It was a moment. A nice one.”

“It was more than nice and you know it.” I stepped into her space and some of her bravado seemed to fall away.

She shrugged. “I’m not looking for a bit of mistletoe-flavored fun, Callum. Come to think of it, it’s poisonous. Did you know that?”

“I did. And actually in Norse mythology, it was the single thing that killed Baldr. He was immune to everything thanks to his mother, Frigg. Save for one little plant.” I invaded her space. “An arrow made of mistletoe was his ultimate demise.”

She licked her lips and stared at my mouth. “I didn’t know that part.”

“Then again, there were the Druids who used mistletoe in a lot of their rituals. They thought it had special powers. And as most things in pagan religion, the Christians nicked it for their own.” I slid my fingers along her hip. “It went from being used in solstice rituals with evergreen for various fertility reasons to finally becoming little pretty things in doorways and arches to catch a kiss.”

There were a lot more stories around mistletoe, but right now, most of it was leaving my brain. Probably because most of my blood had headed south.

“Oh.”

Her lashes swept down and I went for it once again. Instead of the bite of winter and snow with traces of vanilla, she tasted of sharp mint. But her sigh was the same, and when she melted into me, I took full advantage. I wrapped my arm around her back and drew her up against me.

The café sounds fell away, and there was nothing but her honey-scented sweetness. I resisted the urge to break a few laws—sex in public was definitely frowned upon, especially in a small town. And I’d already made that colossal mistake with our intimate public mome

nt.

Instead, I tempered myself into a long, slow kiss. She gripped my shirt, and I was pretty sure a few chest hairs were sacrificed for the cause. I didn’t care. She was with me now, and that was all that mattered.

Six

For the second time in as many days, I found myself kissing this man. And as with the first kiss, I didn’t really understand why it happened. Only that I liked it.

A lot.


Tags: Taryn Quinn Crescent Cove Romance