The Trouble with Mistletoe

So instead he spread it open and wrapped as much of it around her as possible. Chest to chest, thighs to thighs . . . and everything in between mashed up against each other all cozy like.

Except it didn’t feel cozy.

It felt . . . sexy as hell.

It would’ve taken more control than she had to keep her hands to herself. She wrapped herself around him, letting her fingers trail up the sculpted muscles of his back.

At her touch, his gaze met hers, dark and heated. Oh boy. She was in trouble here, and she forced herself to back away and get into her seat.

A minute later, he’d rounded the front of the truck and slid in behind the wheel. He craned around to eyeball Pita like she was a pissed-off rattlesnake.

Willa laughed and Keane turned all that concentrated hotness on her. “What?”

“I’m picturing Petunia coming back from the dead to haunt you.”

With a small smile, he leaned in close and slid his fingers along her jaw. “You think that’s funny?”

“I’d do the same thing.”

His mouth quirked. “Revengeful, huh?”

“Absolutely.”

His fingers still on her jaw, he let his thumb slide lightly over her lower lip, making it hunger for a touch.

His touch.

No, make that his mouth. She wanted his mouth on hers and wasn’t that just annoying as hell. “This isn’t happening,” she said out loud, because surely that would make it true.

“What isn’t?” he asked. “Dinner with me despite you saying that the devil himself couldn’t drag your cold, dead corpse out on a date with me, even if I was . . . how did you put it? Hot as balls?”

“I didn’t say that!” She felt her face flush. She was doing her best to desperately hold on to her resentment over their past, but even she could admit she was quickly losing the battle here, to curiosity.

And lust.

“If you’re going to eavesdrop,” she said with as much dignity as she could, which wasn’t much, “at least get your facts straight.”

He just laughed, a sexy sound that woke up all her happy spots, damn him. And he knew it too. She sunk in her seat a little, crossed her arms over her chest and looked out the window. “Be amused all you want, I’m holding firm.”

He didn’t look worried.

Which in turn worried her.

They made a stop on Vallejo Street, at the top of the hill lined with beautiful old Victorians. Here the houses were big and gorgeous and expensive. The one in front of them had some scaffolding wrapped around it, which didn’t take away from the absolutely gorgeousness of the place.

“Wait here,” Keane said and reached behind him to grab the cat carrier. “I’m just going to run the antichrist inside before we go so she doesn’t have to sit in the truck during dinner.”

“You live here?”

“It’s one of my renovation projects. It’s also my office and where I temporarily park my head at night.”

“It’s beautiful,” she breathed, unable to take her eyes off of it. “One of the most beautiful homes I’ve ever seen.”

He smiled. “Thanks but you should’ve seen it when I first got ahold of it several years ago. You wouldn’t have given it a second look.” He started to get out of the truck but then hesitated. “You’ll still be here when I get back, right?”

She wanted to see inside that amazing house. “You could take me with you to guarantee it.”

“I trust you,” he said.

She didn’t buy that for a second. What she did buy was that he didn’t want her to go inside. “You leave dishes in the sink?” she asked. “Clothes all over the floor? Or maybe you’ve got someone in there waiting on you . . .” She was just joking but she didn’t like thinking it could be true.

“You mean a woman?”

Well when he said it like that, it did sound dumb. “Never mind,” she said. “Do what you have to do.”

He stilled a beat and then set the carrier down again and leaned in close to her. With one hand on the headrest at the back of her head and the other on the seat at her opposite hip, he caged her in, his face an inch from hers.

Smiling.

The ass. He was temptation personified and he knew it. And also, he smelled good. She had no idea how he’d managed to work all day long doing what he did and still smell amazing, but he did. She closed her eyes, making herself sit still instead of doing as she wanted—which would’ve been smushing her face into the crook of his neck and inhaling him like she was a third grader with a bottle of glue.

“You want to come upstairs, Willa?” he asked, voice pure sex.

What she wanted was to put her hands back on his chest now that she knew it was as hard as it looked. Instead she gripped either side of her seat with white knuckles. “Of course not.”

“I think you do. I think you want something else too.”

“What I want,” she said as coolly as she could, “is dinner as promised.”

“Liar,” he chided softly.

“Well that’s just rude, calling your date a liar.”

“So it is a date.” His tone was very male and very smug. It should’ve pissed her off but instead it did something hot and erotic to her insides.

Clearly knowing it, he smiled at her and then dragged his teeth over his lower lip as he contemplated her.

Gah. She wanted to do that. And she wanted to do more too. She wanted him shockingly badly and suddenly she couldn’t remember why she shouldn’t. She tried to access her thought processes on the subject but her brain hiccupped and froze. Which surely was the only reason she let go of the death grip on her seat, slid her fingers into his hair, and . . . brushed her mouth over his.

He didn’t move, not a single muscle, but when she pulled back, his eyes had gone dark as night, piercing her with their intensity.

“Don’t read that the wrong way,” she whispered.

“Is there a wrong way to take it when a beautiful woman kisses you?”

“Um . . .”

He laughed low in his throat, like maybe she delighted him, and then he mirrored what she’d done. He slid his hands up her throat and into her hair, intensifying the pleasure already wreaking havoc inside her body so that desire laced its way from her chest to her stomach, and then much lower.

“Um . . .”