A Kiss in the Snow - Rosie Green Page 0,60

closer and kisses me full on the lips, lingering there a little. I feel his arm snake around my waist and I lean into him, enjoying the sensation of him next to me, where I always wanted him to be.

‘This is lovely. Isn’t it?’ he murmurs, hugging me against him. ‘The country pub. The snow outside. The roaring log fire. And you. Carrington-Barrington-Harrington.’

‘It is. Lovely,’ I agree, snuggling against him. Then a thought occurs and I pull away from him. ‘But what about Krystle?’

He shrugs. ‘I don’t think it would work. We don’t fit together like you and me.’

‘So it’s not just that she’s not sure?’

‘No. I do like Krystle. Of course I do. She’s lovely. But when she admitted she wasn’t sure about us being together, I found I was kind of relieved in a way. Because I’d already been thinking about you. I mean, imagining how we’d be together.’

‘Right.’ I snuggle closer, trying to process all of this.

‘I think I’m in love with you, Carrie,’ he murmurs into my hair.

Stunned, I stay where I am for a moment, not moving. Did he really just say that? I sit up so I can see his face. He’s grinning sheepishly at me, and my heart starts doing a gymnastics routine fit for the Olympics.

‘Well, say something.’ He pulls a comical expression. ‘God, I’m sweating here. It’s not every day I tell a girl I think she’s amazing.’

‘And that you think you might be in love with her,’ I murmur in a daze.

‘Exactly. So what do you say? Isn’t it time we stopped messing around, pretending we’re just friends, and finally got together? Will you be my girlfriend?’

‘Gosh.’ I swallow. ‘Well…wow! You don’t know how long I’ve waited for you to say that.’

‘Good. That’s settled, then.’

‘No, but…’

‘What?’ He looks genuinely puzzled.

‘You told me it was Krystle you were mad about.’

‘Ah, right. Well, a guy can change his mind, can’t he?’ He grins at me. ‘Now, are you going to show me the cottage?’

‘Sorry?’

‘Shall I phone for a taxi?’

‘Oh. Yes, okay.’ If I was expecting a proper chat about how we feel about each other, and how Krystle fits into all of this, I guess I’m going to be disappointed. Adam doesn’t really do deep discussions.

He’s already on the phone to the local taxi company, which makes me wonder if he’s planned the whole thing. Did he just assume I’d fall into his arms and invite him back to Snowdrop Cottage? I smile wryly to myself. Which is exactly what’s happening…

It’s ages before it arrives, but at last, we’re heading back to Silverbells. I have a weird, nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach. Will Ronan have decorated the rest of the tree without me? (I feel a funny little pang of sorrow at the thought.) Will he have gone to bed? I really hope so because for some reason, I’m not at all relishing the idea of having to do the introductions. It would be far better if Adam and I had the living room to ourselves and then he left in the morning before Ronan was up and about…

But when we get back, there’s still a light on in the living room.

Shit! I don’t know why I’m feeling so nervous – but I am.

‘Is your house-mate still up, then?’ asks Adam as we get out of the taxi.

‘It looks like it.’

‘I’d better kiss you right here, then,’ he murmurs, as the taxi drives away. And before I know what’s happening, he’s pulling me into his arms and kissing me deeply. I can feel his desire for me, strong and flatteringly hard, and - wrapped up in the moment, under a moonlit sky, woozy with drink and the star of my very own romantic chick-flick – I kiss him right back, winding my arms around his neck and thinking dreamily of how long I’ve waited for this actual moment…

‘Sorry. I didn’t realise you were out here.’

Ronan’s voice destroys my fantasy, like a plunge into the Arctic Ocean.

His tone is similarly icy. Not like him at all. I pull away from Adam and gaze blearily at Ronan, who’s standing there, arms folded, filling the doorway, his shoulders big and broad in that sexy black puffer jacket of his. It flashes through my mind that ‘stern’ is a really hot look for him…

‘Hi. How are you?’ I slur, suddenly wishing I hadn’t had that fourth gin.

‘I’m very well, thanks. Hi, you must be Adam.’

They shake rather awkwardly. ‘And you’re…Roger?’ says Adam, clasping