Let It Snow

by Jeanette Grey

  And that was a little better. No longer right in the beam, his features looked more familiar, for all that she’d never seen them quite like this before. His eyes were dark, his lips parted and hair mussed, the hem of his shirt still pulled up around his midsection. Frankly, he looked like he’d been well on his way to being debauched, before this freaking power outage had conspired to cockblock them.

  “So…that was kind of a mood killer, huh?” she asked weakly.

  “I don’t know.” He tugged his shirt down, and she mentally waved those beautiful abdominals good-bye. For now. His grin was sheepish and so fucking sexy she wanted to lick it off him. “Alone in the dark with the girl I was in the middle of making out with doesn’t sound so bad.”

  “Do you think we blew a fuse or something?”

  He craned his head to look toward the door. “I don’t know. Don’t see any lights on out front, either.”

  As if to confirm that line of thought, a gust of wind rattled the windows and made something scrape against the roof overhead. Probably just branches, but every cheesy horror flick she’d ever seen came back to her, making her shiver at the idea of it being something worse. Werewolves or serial killers or zombies kinds of worse.

  He dropped his head to rest his brow against her thigh, hot breath warming her skin through her clothes, and damn. Just a little up and to the left…He chuckled and lifted his head, and she tried not to combust at the sight of his face between her legs. “I should probably go down to the basement and check.”

  “Um.” More images from slasher movies flipped through her mind. “Isn’t that what the hero says right before he gets killed by the ax murderer?”

  He shrugged and shifted forward to kiss her stomach, then the center of her ribs, above her breasts. His lips hovered inches from her mouth. “I don’t know. Unless the ax murderer drives a plow, I think we’re safe.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Maybe he’s a plow murderer.”

  “If he is, while I have him distracted, you go steal his keys and see if you can dig our cars out from under all that snow.”

  “Very funny.”

  “What can I say? I’m a funny guy.”

  It was funny, was the thing, but she still didn’t like the idea of him going down there and leaving her here alone. Fingering the collar of his shirt and trying not to sound too plaintive, she suggested, “Or you could stay here and keep kissing me and we can lock the door. Plow murderers can’t get through locked doors.”

  “Tempting,” he said, breath warm across her lips. He had no idea how tempting he was, especially when he smirked. “You’ll be annoyed I didn’t at least check when it starts to get cold in here, though.”

  Oh, right. Because no power meant no heat. Another rush of wind howled outside, and her shiver this time had nothing to do with the proximity of his mouth.

  Clearly seeing he had won, he planted a kiss on the tip of her nose, then launched himself backward, hopping to stand and holding his hand out. “Come on. I’ll see what’s going on downstairs. You go raid the New Agey crap section for candles. God knows Margie’s gotta have a lighter stashed around here somewhere.”

  “Right.”

  “Meet you out by the tea party setup?”

  “Sexy,” she mumbled as she accepted his help getting up, staggering to her feet a lot less gracefully than he had.

  Before she could pull her hand away, he caught on to her wrist, grasping it tightly and reeling her in. Through the dimness, his expression was hard to make out, but there was something pleading to it.

  “I just,” he started. “What happened between us in this room—it isn’t over.”

  She hadn’t thought it was, but hearing him say it still sent butterflies skittering through her chest. Her lips twitched up at the corners, and he dipped down, placing a small, soft kiss to her mouth, one that was full of a whole other kind of intent.

  “Be right back,” he promised. He let her go and headed for the door, lingering there for a second before walking away, taking the light of his phone’s flashlight with him into the darkness.

  She waited until she was sure he was gone before she dropped to sit on the arm of the couch. Just in case, she pinched herself, but nothing changed. Unlikely she was dreaming, then. Shaking her head, she leaned back, taking stock of the whole situation in her head.

  Based on all available evidence, she was awake. She was awake and Sam had told her that he liked her and didn’t think he had a shot with her. She was awake, and Sam had kissed her.

  Assuming she didn’t wake up drooling on the carpet in half an hour, the last few minutes nothing but a rapidly fading dream, she was seriously going to have to thank Margie for making her work the late shift tonight.

  Suppressing her impulse to do a little end zone victory dance right there in her boss’s office, she refocused on her tasks, forcing herself up again and heading over to Margie’s desk. Sure enough, there was a lighter stashed in the pencil tray. For good measure, she poked through the rest of the drawers, but didn’t find much of interest, slamming shut the one that had a giant pink bra in it. Ugh. Where was the brain bleach when you needed it? She did manage to score some packets of crackers, a bottle of peach schnapps, and another little throw blanket from the filing cabinet in the corner, though, so it wasn’t a total loss.

  On her way out, she closed but didn’t lock the door. Practically speaking, they should probably relocate their little tea party to Margie’s office as opposed to sleeping on the floor out in the main part of the store. If Sam couldn’t get the heat running again, it would stay warmer in there, with fewer windows and less space. It was definitely more private. But it stank of cigarettes, and for all that the store was public, at least it didn’t have pictures of Margie’s daughter staring out from every available surface.

  Beyond that, it was where she and Sam had done all their flirting over the past few months. Where he’d come by and tugged her hair and made what at the time had seemed like idle small talk, but knowing what she knew now…maybe it had been anything but.

  Feeling all glow-y inside, she let the narrow beam of her flashlight lead her through the crowded aisles, back toward where they’d left the blanket and cookies and booze. She dropped her new findings beside the others, then moved to the small display near the front where they kept what Sam had not-inaccurately referred to as their “New Agey crap.” Ignoring the dream journals and crystal healing sets, she picked out a couple of pillar candles. The things were priced at twenty bucks a pop and were supposed to help cleanse your energy. Ha. Yet another thing she’d have to hope Margie wouldn’t notice, or would choose to overlook, considering the situation they’d ended up in.

  She arranged the candles on a shelf where they seemed least likely to set the whole damn store on fire, and lit them. The light they gave off was warm and flickering, and made everything a little cheerier.

  She peered past the shelves toward the big window looking out on the parking lot. The snow had eased off some, but the flakes were still slowly drifting down, leaving the world covered in a soft, thick blanket of white. It looked…beautiful, really. Peaceful. Like it belonged on a Christmas card, and for the first time in three years, that idea didn’t make her angry or resentful. Maybe it had been even longer than that.

  Sad that this was shaping up to be one of the best Christmases she’d ever had.

  With nothing left to do but wait, she made a quick trip to the bathroom, then headed back over to their spot. She laid the thinner of the two blankets on the floor and spread the other one over top of it. Provided it didn’t get too cold, that would at least keep them off the grubby carpet when they eventually went to sleep. Or otherwise decided to lie down.

  That thought sent an odd little tickle of nerves firing off in her stomach. She wasn’t a prude—or a virgin—by any stretch of the imagination, but it had kind of been a while. She didn’t really do much in the way of serious relationships. Unrequited crushes on classmates or coworkers or fictional characters we
re so much easier to deal with. The few times she’d looked at a guy and said to herself, okay, and the guy had done the same to her, it had ended in a few romps in the sack. Fun romps in the sack, but nothing more. It was like she couldn’t…connect. Somehow.

  And now she was in a position to go down that road with Sam. She had no problem with the idea of getting it on with him—especially considering how that second kiss had ignited. She just knew how things tended to go, after. The idea of things fizzling out like that with him left her feeling lonely and cold.

  Needing to get out of her own head, she turned to her phone. She’d been pretty much ignoring it all night, too caught up with the storm and with Sam. She hadn’t really missed much. A couple of messages from her fansites, a few offers for last-minute deals on holiday gifts she didn’t need to buy, and that was it. With all her friends gone home for the break, there wasn’t anyone to tell about the whole snowed-in-with-the-hottie situation. Nobody at home to worry about her. No family waiting to hear she was okay.

  She swallowed and turned the screen off. It wasn’t like she had nobody to talk to. Several of her friends would be more than interested to learn about the hottie portion of the snowed-in-with-the-hottie situation. Eventually. Once the semester started up again.

  She was saved from getting too maudlin—and from having the daylights scared out of her—by the thud of footfalls coming toward her. She turned around to see Sam approaching, completely intact and unmurdered by either an ax or a plow. He’d apparently stopped off in the back room where employees stashed their stuff, because he had a bundle of their coats wadded up under one arm. And he was frowning.

  Crap. “So that’s a ‘no’ on it just being a fuse?”

  He shook his head. “I put in a call to the power company, but I’m guessing they’re not getting anything fixed until this blows over.”

  “Awesome.”

  He dropped the coats beside the blankets. “Figured they’d make good pillows, if nothing else.”

  “Yeah.” She gestured toward their makeshift bed with a gulp. It was past one in the morning, so it didn’t seem too presumptuous to suggest lying down. “Do you want to?”

  “Why not?”

  She took off her boots and set them aside, then peeled back the top layer and slipped in underneath it, that same nervous flutter still wreaking havoc on her pulse as she balled her coat beneath her head. Lying there stiffly, she watched him take off his own shoes, and for a second, his hands hovered over the buckle of his belt. One glance her way, though, and he dropped his arms, leaving his clothes on as he made himself comfortable beside her. He didn’t seem quite as tense as she felt, but he didn’t close in on her right away, either.

  And this sucked. If the power hadn’t gone out, they could be naked and sweaty right now and probably well on their way to coming their brains out, but nooooo. The universe had gone and screwed that all up, and then she’d messed it up even worse by being a dumbass and letting herself think. There was only a foot of space between their bodies, but it could have been a mile for how impassable it suddenly seemed.

  Finally, as if catching on to her internal neurotics and deciding they were stupid and pointless, he rolled his eyes at her and shifted over, wrapping an arm around her waist. That was better. Much better. But she couldn’t seem to relax into it.

  “Hey. Hey,” he said, tipping her chin up with his other hand. “I told you. What we started back there. It isn’t over.” His gaze flickered. “At least I don’t want it to be.”

  “Me neither.” She pushed out a long exhalation and fought to make her posture easier, her body softer. She brought a hand to rest on his chest, and he didn’t move away. Didn’t tug her closer, either. Like he was waiting for her. Giving her space and time to warm back up to him.

  Sweeping his fingertips over her cheek, he glanced at her mouth and then her eyes. There was no expectation to his voice as he said, “I really want to kiss you again.”

  It was exactly what she wanted, too. She just needed to stop being so ridiculous about it. After a moment’s hesitation, she twisted her fingers in his shirt, giving him the barest hint of a nod as she licked her lips.

  The kiss was soft and tentative, but it was familiar now, a blend of that first uncertain one they’d shared and the steamy one that had accelerated out of control in the span of a breath. His mouth moved, warm and damp against hers, the careful press of his tongue gentling her lips open before licking inside. Curling her hand around the nape of his neck, she angled in closer, tipping her head to the side as she let him in. He nudged her backward, bracing himself with an elbow planted beside her head, half hovering over her and tangling their legs together. Heat and proximity threatened to overwhelm her, making her ribs feel tight and her skin too sensitive, her inhalations and exhalations too fast and too hard. Even when he shifted to kiss her jaw and her throat and, wetly, to her ear, she couldn’t get a full breath, couldn’t think beyond how good this felt. How nice it was to be held and touched by someone she cared about.

  She didn’t want it to end. Didn’t want to speed up or move into those frantic, more focused touches. Didn’t want to lose this in favor of that.

  When he started to kiss lower on her chest, she squeezed her eyes shut tight, then opened them again and tugged at the fine, short hairs at the base of his skull. He raised his gaze to look at her, lips wet, and the low ache between her legs gave a maddening pulse, but she ignored it.

  “Come here.”

  He came easily enough, kissing his way up her throat before she dragged him higher to her mouth. With all the restraint she had, she made the kiss slow, rubbing her thumb over the hinge of his jaw, sucking on his lower lip for a long, lingering moment before pulling away.

  “Can we just…” She worried at the inside of her own lip with her teeth. Then gave him a weak smile. “Slow?”

  The way he swept his eyes closed looked pained, but he rolled to lie beside her again, nodding as he said, “Yeah. Of course.” While his eyes were still dark with desire, they were genuine, too. Understanding. “Slow is fine. I just got a little swept up in things.” Splaying a hand out across her collarbones, he sighed. “You’re so beautiful.”

  She couldn’t help the little chuckle that fought its way out of her throat. She didn’t get that kind of compliment very often, but even she knew it was a rare gift for a guy to say it the way he just had. In a way that felt unpracticed. Like he really believed it.

  The way he was looking at her, she kind of believed it, too.

  For that alone, she kissed his mouth again, quick and soft, before pulling away to rest her head on the crumpled lump of her coat, working hard to calm her pulse and her breath. A part of her was still dying to get his clothes off and feel his skin. Feel him over top of her and moving inside her, but the low burn of it was manageable for now. She’d rather just be close like this. Give herself time to grow more sure of him.

  Things between them had done a full one-eighty in the last hour. He’d gone from unattainable and possibly spoken for to not only interested but conceivably just as aware of her as she had been of him. It was taking a second to get her head around—the idea that not only did she get to kiss and touch him, but that they might be heading toward something more.

  Man, she hoped they were.

  All the same, she felt a little bad about revving him up only to ask him to cool down. She twisted her mouth to the side in a half grimace. “Sorry.”

  “Hey, no. You don’t have to apologize.” He smoothed his hand over her shoulder and down to rest on the dip of her waist.

  It was a huge reassurance, knowing he wasn’t going to press the issue, but the need to explain gnawed at her anyway. “It’s just, I don’t really…do this. Much.” Not wanting him to think she hadn’t ever had sex with a guy after the first date, she clarified, “Sleeping with guys I know, that is.” She heard how bad that sounded about half a second after it left her mouth. “Er, I mean…”

  But he was laughing, head tippi
ng back onto his own coat-pillow. “Because with guys you don’t know, it’s okay?”

  Well, when he put it that way…“Yeah? Actually?” Shit, this was coming out all wrong. “Not that I sleep with random guys all the time or anything. Just.” She took a deep breath. “It’s easier. With strangers. Sometimes.”

  His laughter tapered off, and he rubbed at her side through her clothes, repositioning his other arm so it was bent in the space between them, and he twisted loose strands of her hair between his fingers. “How so?”

  She considered her meager history and shrugged. “After. It gets so awkward, and I guess I have a…a hard time. Letting people in.”

  “Well, I’m very patient.”

  A little part of her twinged. It was probably too much to hope he was patient enough.

  But there was a quality to the space they were lying in. Wrapped in darkness, their bodies close and faces even closer…it was intimate. Lacking in expectations. For the first time in she couldn’t even remember how long, she felt safe with another person. Like she could let some of the brittle edges go.

  For a long moment, they lay there together in silence, staring at each other across scant inches. All these months she’d been holding this torch for him, he’d seemed so confident. Like he knew where he was going in his life and what he was doing. In the flickering candlelight, he looked so much younger, and it struck her that they were nearly the same age.

  And the things he’d said, back in Margie’s office, about college and his family and how he saw himself…none of it was what she would have imagined.

  Maybe that was why, given time to catch her breath, she’d shied away from letting herself get caught up in him and his kiss and his touch. She wanted to trust him. But she scarcely even knew him at all.

  Dropping her gaze to focus on the hand he still had splayed out between them, she moved her own arm. Reveled in the warm hints of electricity as she let her palm come to settle over his. Danced her fingertips along the lines there, and over the inside of his wrist.