his head toward the berries.
Mitzi rarely blushed, but she recognized the heat crawling up her neck. She couldn’t remember the last time a guy had turned away one of her kisses or she’d been so completely impulsive.
Impulsive, most certainly. Completely impulsive, no.
“You’re right.” She flashed him a bright smile. “I don’t know what came over me.”
He skimmed his knuckles down her cheek. “I don’t know what it is, either, but it’s damn enticing.”
The gentle touch reignited the desire hovering just below the surface. Darn if she was going to make another move on him.
She didn’t have to because, before Mitzi could utter a word, he cupped her face in his hands and kissed her with surprising tenderness. His lips were warm against hers, and he tasted of spearmint.
Confused—and slightly dazed—Mitzi glanced up at him. He must have seen the question in her eyes.
“We kissed,” he said, in a low rumbling tone that made her belly jitter, “because we wanted to kiss. Not because of berries and leaves.”
Which meant she couldn’t blame her response on the mistletoe. Maybe a little on the full moon hanging like a large golden orb in the sky. Or on the intoxicating way he smelled. Or simply because she wanted to see what it was like to kiss an ex-con.
She jerked back at the realization of whom she’d just locked lips with, whom she’d enjoyed locking lips with, whom she wanted to kiss again.
Red flags popped up so fast it made her dizzy. After her football-player fling, Mitzi had promised herself she’d get serious about finding Mr. Right. She’d agonized over the criteria that had to be met before she would consider a guy relationship material.
After all, she had a gene pool trying to pull her down. From the time she was a teenager, she’d found herself drawn to boys who liked having fun a whole lot more than they liked studying. Guys with flash but no substance.
Guys like Keenan McGregor? She didn’t know him well enough to make such a judgment, yet how could she not? It was a self-preservation kind of thing.
Unlike her sister, who now had three kids by three different men, Mitzi’s vision for her future never included struggling for every penny or having a kid before she was out of high school.
She’d stuck to the straight and narrow. Studied, worked hard and got out. Her life was just as she liked it. Mitzi wasn’t going to let anyone—even a handsome ex-con—pull her off course.
Keenan saw it in the beautiful blue eyes the second she dismissed him. He wasn’t sure why she’d wanted to kiss him—though he knew she had—when he obviously wasn’t her usual kind of guy.
Understanding didn’t stop the twinge of regret that settled like a lump of clay in his belly. Something told him, given the chance, they’d have enjoyed each other’s company.
Keenan reminded himself Mitzi wasn’t the only woman in Jackson Hole. If he was looking for a woman. Which he was not. He’d barely arrived back in town. He hadn’t even had time to unpack the bag sitting in his sister’s guest bedroom.
On Monday, he’d start his construction job. When he got off work, he’d look for a place to stay so he didn’t inconvenience his sister and brother-in-law any further. Despite Ryan and Betsy’s assurance that he was welcome to stay indefinitely, the desire to make his own way, to begin to rebuild the life he’d lost, was a burning need inside him.
“I suppose—” Mitzi began.
“I should mingle.” Keenan shoved his hands into his pockets, forcing a calm tone. He let his gaze skim over her once more then smiled. “It was good getting to know you. Thanks for the welcome-home kiss.”
Before he could embarrass himself by telling her to give him a call if she was ever free or something equally lame, he shot her a wink and sauntered back inside.
Mitzi watched in stunned disbelief as the man she’d been prepared to brush off opened the French doors and disappeared from view. Her impromptu speech of dismissal had been fully formed on her lips but he’d spoken first.
Irritation bubbled inside her. She clenched her hands into fists. He’d not only walked off, he had the audacity to wink at her.
Well, no man walked away from Mitzi Sanchez in such a cavalier manner. She was going to go inside, seek him out and tell him to his face that—
She paused, even in her anger realizing the irrationality of her plan. What could she say to him