Mistletoe Baby (Crescent Cove 9.50)

“I’m sure you have a few ideas for that.”

“You know what they say…”

“Skin on skin is the quickest way to warm up?”

“Damn, I like the way you think.”

Eight

The heater was blasting in Callum’s insanely bright car. Even in the dark of Dare’s parking garage, it was like a neon banana. However, when the engine purred, I couldn’t deny I enjoyed that bit of extra testosterone.

It was already thick in the air anyway. He’d practically dragged me over to the garage. Not that I could blame him. I’d been wishy washy in the extreme. Talk about hot and cold—even in my own mind.

Now that I’d given him the green light, he was going to run with it.

I wasn’t used to being impulsive. That was my mother. And watching her make the same mistakes over and over again with men made me so careful not to do the same.

I glanced over at him in the shadows of the car. The bright blue lights of the various dials and speedometer tossed his face into stark relief. The hollowed out cheekbones and square jawline gave him that classically handsome look that made women stupid.

Clearly, I wasn’t immune.

He curled his fingers around the shifter, and then he paused and directed all that ridiculous beauty my way. “This doesn’t have to go any further than our date night. I can drop you home and pick you up and take you out for a proper dinner tomorrow.”

I stuffed down the urge to laugh. “A proper dinner on Christmas Eve?”

He shrugged. “Or I can cook you dinner.”

“Is that right? At The Hummingbird’s Nest?”

“No, my place. Well-rounded, remember?”

I leaned into him, and he met me halfway. “Just take me to your room.” I said it against his mouth, the demand oddly reminiscent of how he’d been trying to convince me to go out with him all day.

He cupped the back of my head and kissed me hard before sitting straight again and fastening his seatbelt. I did the same and stared out the window at all the lights swaying in the increasing wind off the water.

There was a lot of pedestrian traffic, so our trip was slow going. We were a hearty bunch in the Cove, but most of the vendors were starting to pack it in. People had families to get to and holiday plans to finalize. And here I was with a stranger, feeling more at home with him than I did with most of my friends.

Not sure what that said about me—or maybe him.

He was so easy with everyone he met. I was polite and friendly, but not like him. He just instantly took to people. And to be truthful, they took to him. Dancing in the park like he’d choreographed it himself. Not missing a beat even when Mr. Phillips ended up in his arms. He was our town Santa and that dance had been the sweetest thing I’d ever seen.

And the sexiest.

Callum was so at ease within his own skin that he was able to be sweet, sexy, or funny in an instant.

I wanted to see all the other sides of him.

He gave me an absent smile as he turned up the radio. An old Creed song was on, and he exaggeratedly sang “Arms Wide Open” until I was laughing with him instead of overthinking everything.

The ride to The Hummingbird’s Nest was over before it started. He pulled into the winding road, and we sang along to the next song as he parked. An old Keith Urban song went through a few stages—from messing up lyrics, to laughing, to kissing.

I couldn’t get enough of his mouth. It was full and warm and oh so talented. He nipped at my lower lip until I practically climbed into his lap to get closer.

He opened his door, and the slap of cold air broke us apart. He quickly got out and came around to help me out of of the low slung car with more kisses and laughter.

“You’re so damn beautiful.” He threaded his fingers through my hair. “Unbelievably beautiful.”

I flushed and looked down. “You’ve got me here. You don’t have to pour it on.” I leaned back into his car to get my bag from the floor.