Under the Mistletoe. Katherine Garbera
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was a certain thrill in facing his fears, and he certainly wasn’t ready to throw in the towel where Penny was concerned.
THE KITCHEN STORE was jam-packed with high-end appliances and prepackaged baking mixes. But what Penny was interested in wasn’t the baking section. Why hadn’t Will ever baked Christmas cookies? She didn’t mean as a man, but as a kid. Even her co-workers all had stories, men and women alike, of being in the kitchen at the holidays. Even if they didn’t bake them, most men stood in the kitchen, pretended to decorate and ate them fresh out of the oven.
It was one of those things she and her mom had made a tradition of when Penny was about ten. Prior to that, they’d bought cookies from a small mom-and-pop place that was a few blocks from their house. But the bakery had closed since the couple wanted to retire and move to Florida, so her mother had suggested they make their own. Penny had a chuckle at the way they’d both been very unskilled at first, but over the years, they had gotten a lot better. Still smiling to herself, she browsed the baking section. Her chalet had a small kitchen with a tiny oven so she took a few moments to get all the necessities.
“Is an elf going to be cooking with you?” Will said as he joined her like they’d agreed. He reached into her basket to remove the small spatula she’d just tossed in her bag.
“No, silly. That’s a cookie spatula—it enables you to get the cookies from the tray without scrunching them up.”
He furrowed his dark brow. “Interesting. What kind of cookies are you making?”
“We are making a basic sugar-cookie dough and then rolling it out, cutting it into cookies, baking them and then frosting them.”
“Sounds like a lot of work,” he said with a grimace. “I think I might have to wait for the eating them part. Maybe just supervise you working...”
“Are you good at supervising?”
“If I’m honest?”
Penny nodded but was only half listening to his answer. She bit her lower lip as she looked at him, with his thick brown hair falling loosely around his face and scarf tied nonchalantly around his neck. Part of her wished she’d just invited him back to her chalet two nights ago. Got rid of the desire that made it impossible for her to do anything but watch his lips move and wonder how they’d feel on her skin.
She wanted him. She’d dreamed of him in her bed last night. And she knew that today, unless he really screwed up, somehow she was going to have him there. Two days were gone of her fourteen with him. She didn’t want to waste another second like she had yesterday by giving him space to work. She was in as much control of this affair as he was.
“What?” she asked, upon realizing he’d stopped talking and was staring at her.
“I said I’m not good at supervising but I can tell you are. Are you okay?”
She tipped her head to the side. “I’m...fine. I was just, uh, looking at your hair and wondering how it would feel between my fingers. I really didn’t get to touch it when we were on our sleigh ride because I had my gloves on.”
His eyes darkened and he stepped closer to her in the busy shop. No one was paying them the least bit of attention, as they were all busy getting their own purchases made. He stood pressed against her front, the cookie- cutter baskets to her back, and he put his hands lightly on her waist, bringing his face so close to her that each exhalation of his breath brushed over her mouth.
His breath was minty again, his aftershave outdoorsy, and she breathed it all in. Breathed him in. Closed her eyes and tried to make a sense memory that she could carry with her forever. But then she forced her eyes open. Not forever. Just for Christmas.
“Touch it now,” he said.
She lifted her hand and tangled her fingers in the thick, rich strands of his dark hair. It was cool from him being outdoors without a hat on and a few snowflakes that hadn’t melted were caught in it. She pulled her fingers downward, letting the strands spread out and then fall back against his head.
He had his eyes half-closed and watched her carefully. She felt her pulse racing and her blood seemed to be pumping a lot faster. She wanted him.
Penny licked her lips, which felt dry, and noticed he tracked the movement with his half-hooded gaze. She felt his hands in her hair, slowly winding a lock around his finger before letting it go. They he cupped the back of her head, spread his fingers out and angled her head before he brought his mouth down on hers.
The kiss was quick and hot. Full of passion and promise, determination and desire. He wanted her, too.
He pulled back and her lips were tingling and every nerve in her body awakened. Suddenly skiing and baking cookies didn’t seem like anything she had to do today. She wanted to find a private place and rip his clothes off. Explore the rest of his body and then take him and make him hers.
Someone bumped into them and Penny looked down into the face of a five-year-old girl with a gap-toothed grin.
“I’m looking for a princess cookie cutter,” she said. “Can you help me?”
Will laughed and stepped back, crouching next to the little girl to start searching in the baskets with her. And Penny took several breaths to try to feel normal again, but as she picked through the cookie cutters, she had a sinking feeling that she wasn’t going to find her way back to normal that easily.
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