Laughs erupted around them, inciting whole new levels of scorching to Charlie’s cheeks.
“What do you say, Charlotte?” Arran’s voice scooped low to cradle her name before he gestured with his gaze upward. “For tradition’s sake?”
Again, her face must have said things her brain didn’t even know yet, because Arran slid a palm around her waist, tugging her a teensy bit closer. Her breath trembled at his touch, from his nearness.
And, if she was being honest, from a whole lot of anticipation.
With only a pause to look into her eyes, he captured her mouth with his.
The confident touch, soft yet in control, blurred the rising calls of her crazy family. His hand slid up her back, bracing her, his lips offering a longer and gentler caress than the brief time before.
Her palm instinctively rose to his cheek, a hint of stubble tickling her skin. She embraced the safe feel of his arms around her, the easy confidence in his kiss, the intimate trail of his lips skating over hers only to press in for a bolder taste.
Have mercy!A prince’s kiss was all she’d imagined and so much more.
He drew back, his gaze searching hers as the sounds around them exploded with a mixture of “Gross!” from a couple of little boys, “It’s about time!” from someone who sounded suspiciously like Luke, and “Now, let’s eat!” from Papa.
With a careful touch to her arm, Arran guided her away from the hungry crowd, out the back door of the house. It was a good thing his brain was in working order because she left hers under the mistletoe.
“I know this”—he waved between them—“is complicated.”
She blinked up at him, gathering whatever wits still remained in close proximity. “You think?”
Two words. Somewhat clearly spoken. She was rather proud of herself after being kissed into a brain blur.
“Do you think we could try to figure this out together? No strings?” His palms slid down her arms, inciting another desire for her to step closer. “Just... discover if what is happening between the two of us could prove worth the sorting?”
The warmth in her eyes puddled just a little. “No strings?”
He gave his head a small shake. “Unless you find you want them. I fear my heart is already entangled.”
Her jaw slacked a tiny bit.
Could this be... real?
She pushed the fear of all the what-ifs away and focused on his face. The hope in his expression, the tenderness in his voice, pushed her heart forward a baby step. “The Christmas parade and tree lighting in downtown Ransom is on Saturday. That would make a really nice first date.”
His expression gentled into the sweetest smile. “Sounds perfect.”
***
She’d worn red.
Beneath a long black coat, the red turtleneck peeked out, adding color to Charlotte’s face and drawing attention to her lips—an unneeded, though not unwelcome, reminder of her kiss.
Arran had doubted the readiness of his heart to ever love again, but as he and Charlotte walked along the quaint downtown of Ransom, Christmas decorations donning lampposts and storefronts, he welcomed the possibility.
The hope.
Yet this time something deeper wrapped ’round the feelings. Was it a better understanding of himself? An awareness that Charlotte’s personality and compassion fit his life better than Angelica ever could?
He’d taken two years to work up the courage to ask Angelica to marry him. Agonized over it, as if he’d somehow known, deep in his heart, she’d never been the right one for him.
And here, within weeks of meeting Charlotte, he was ready to dive into forever.
Working so closely with her over the past few weeks, both in the day job and with The Wish, only secured his desire even more.
So fast. So certain.
