As for me? I’m apprehensive. Iwantto kiss Theo—fuck, do I ever—but I never imagined it happening like this.
I’m doing the mental arithmetic to figure out how this changes things when Theo gives me a rueful smile. “You don’t have to do this.”
Normally I wouldn’t. But we had that almost-kiss in the kitchen, and Theo said,We’re not done yet.
I’m going to take him at his word.
“It’s fine,” I say quickly, stepping closer to him.
He searches my face for a moment, then shrugs. “All right.”
Then he’s leaning down, aiming for my cheek, probably planning to deliver a light peck before backing away.
But I didn’t dress like Mariah Carey to mess around, and if this is my only kiss with Theo Winters, I’m going to make it a good one.
At the last second, before his lips can graze my cheek, I grab his face and pull his mouth to mine.
I feel his shock when my lips land on his, hear the sharp inhale when he sucks in a breath through his nose. Then I’m slanting my mouth and stroking the seam of his lips with my tongue. He opens for me, and it’s a wrap. Cheers and catcalls erupt as Theo’s strong arms band around my waist and pull me flush against him. He tilts his head, changing the angle of the kiss and taking it even deeper. He tastes like wine and peppermint and sugar cookies. I can’t get enough.
Too soon, he breaks the kiss and stares at me, wild-eyed. He casts a quick look around at everyone clapping and whistling. A flush creeps up his neck and he grabs my hand.
“Merry Christmas, everyone,” he calls out gruffly as he pulls me through the crowd. On the way out, he shoots Mr. Barnes a suspicious glare. “Nate, thanks for hosting.”
Nate chuckles, and I see Mrs. Greene by his side, grinning hugely. She sends me a cheery wave.
A few people mill in the hallway and stairwell. Theo tows me past them and down a flight of stairs to the fourth floor, where we stop in front of his door.
“Is this okay?” He’s panting like he’s just run a hundred-yard dash. “You don’t have to come in, but—”
A million thoughts race through my head. I think of my sister and my grandmother. Of Starsong and Oscar the Grouch. I think of the sofa and the tree and the light bulb.
I think of him offering to let me use his kitchen, of inviting me to come up and talk to him, of him understanding how it feels to live and breathe your work.
When I answer, my voice is clear and firm. “Yes. I want to.”
His grin flashes, big and adorable. “Great. Yeah. Me too.” And then he’s fumbling to unlock his door.
We stagger inside and lean on each other as we hurry to remove our boots. His tool belt hits the ground with a clunk and a jingle of bells. When I’m standing in my socks with Theo towering a foot above me, a serious expression crosses his face, and he catches my shoulders.
“How much did you drink?”
“One glass of wine. You?”
“A glass and a half.” He sounds relieved. “I just wanted to make sure—”
I cup his cheeks and interrupt. “I get it. And I love that you thought to ask. But if you don’t take me to bed right now, I’m going to scream.”
“Noted.” He grabs my hips and hoists me up. I lock my thighs around his waist and press my mouth to his as he carries me into the bedroom.
I’m desperate to know what his place looks like, but there will be plenty of time for snooping later.
We fall onto his bed together and I come up for air long enough to get a sense of dark walls and floating shelves. He reaches across me with one long arm and flicks on the bedside lamp. It bathes the room in a cozy glow, and I see that the walls are gunmetal gray and the bedding is marigold yellow. It’s masculine, but modern. Lived in, but neat. Also of note? He doesn’t have a desk in his bedroom. What’s it like not to sleep in your office?
But then his mouth is on my neck, and all of my awareness is centered on the wet slide of his tongue and the gentle scrape of those sexy fucking teeth. I let out a squeal when he rolls us and I’m suddenly straddling his thighs. He gazes up at me in the soft lamplight with sleepy, lust-darkened eyes. I’ve never seen a more beautiful sight.
“Is this where I make a joke about sitting on Santa’s lap?” It’s out of my mouth before I can think better of it, but he cracks up.
“I forgot I was wearing this.” He reaches up to remove the hat, but I stop him with a hand on his wrist.
