Tic-Tac-Mistletoe - N.R. Walker Page 0,41

there.

He pulled back just a little, only to kiss me again, softer and his lips more open and inviting. And I honestly thought my knees were going to buckle. But we never deepened the kiss, and I wasn’t even disappointed. That kiss, that first kiss, was as sweet as it was perfect, with enough heat to leave me wanting more without us tearing at each other’s clothes in a sprint to get naked.

He’d just admitted to being scared and lonely, and he was honest about me staying with him. He’d just shown me his vulnerable side; the last thing he needed was for me to start humping his leg like a rabidly horny dog.

Sure, if he wanted me to do that, I probably would. But this had that tiptoeing feeling of maybe becoming something special . . .

“I’ve never kissed a man with a beard before,” he murmured.

I smiled, still kiss-drunk and gooey on the inside. “Did you like it?”

He thumbed my cheek and my jaw, lightly scratching my scruff. “Very much,” he whispered. His gaze went from my beard to my eyes. “I’d like to kiss you again.”

My breath caught and my bones turned to sponge. All I could do was nod. And this time, his hands went from my face to my neck . . . and holy shit, I thought the face-holding thing was good.

He kept the kiss sweet and tender, warm and soft. I was two seconds away from climbing him like a tree and humping him like that aforementioned rabidly horny dog when he broke the kiss just to rest his forehead on mine.

He was breathing hard, and when I opened my eyes, he looked . . . pained?

“You okay?” I managed to ask.

He nodded and let out a breathy laugh before pulling back. “I just . . . I’m trying to be a gentleman. And it’s been a long time for me, so I just need a second.”

Oh.

“Oh.”

He laughed again, his cheeks pink. He ran his hand through his hair. “Uh, yeah. I really like you. And I want to see you again. Even if you live in Mossley. I don’t want to get carried away here and now, if you know what I mean?”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “You want to see me again?”

He nodded. “Well, we haven’t got through Christmas yet, and who knows? Maybe you won’t want to stick around. Because when reality kicks in, you’ve been in the country for all of two days—”

I silenced him by planting a kiss on his lips. “I like this reality,” I said. “It’s very Hallmark Christmassy, and it honestly is the best thing ever.”

Ren laughed. “So . . . you’ll want to see me again? Some small-town guy who lives alone in the woods?”

“You mean a gorgeous small-town businessman who owns his own house and lives with his cute dog that has shoes and a coat, named from one of the best movies ever?” I rolled my eyes. “Uh, yes. But you’re right about getting through Christmas first. You’ve yet to meet Liv, and we might be too much crazy for your liking.”

“I’m sure she’s great.” He studied my eyes, then chewed on his bottom lip. “I’m so torn right now.”

Well, that didn’t sound good. “About what?”

He laughed again; his cheeks burned red. “Between wanting to take things slow and doing this the right way. Or . . . not.”

“I’m not opposed to the or not option,” I hedged. “Just so you know, a few minutes ago I totally had visions of tree climbing and rabid dog humping.”

He blinked. “What?”

I snorted. “I wanted to climb you like a—You know what? Never mind. I think taking things slow is good. This is a Hallmark movie, after all. Gotta keep it rated PG.”

Ren chuckled, then let out an almighty sigh. He took a step back, leaned against the kitchen counter, and took my hand. “It’s been a long time for me, and I swore after Benny that I wouldn’t do it again. But Hamish, I’ve known you for two days and you know me better than he ever did. I don’t know if I’m saying this right . . . When I say I want to take things slow, I don’t mean that we have to date for six months and get married before I give you my virtue . . .”

“Uh, I think you left your virtue at the locker room door back in high school.”

He burst out laughing, and the serious