Chapter 6
AVERY
My lips tingle.
Through each of the little shops that the waitress at Tee's suggested-- the ones that are open, at least-- while Booker patiently waits for me to comb through aisles of knick knacks and tchotchkes, looking for the perfect little mementos of our stop in Hope Peak to take home to Mom and Dad, for friends and co-workers back in SoCal, to ship off to my party-pooping brother for missing Christmas and sticking me with his grumpy friend.
.. and maybe even something for the grumpy friend.
Booker stands by the doorway of the last little store left open, his attention on his phone while waiting for me to pay for my purchases.
The sales lady follows me to the door, turning the sign in the window over to closed, hesitating a few steps away while she politely waits for us to leave so she can lock the door behind us.
"We should get back," I tell Booker, stopping in front of him just inside the threshold and staring at the snow that's starting to blanket the streets. "It's piling up fast out there."
Booker slips his phone into his pocket, nodding when he notices how fast the storm has come in.
The woman waiting to close up the store busies herself with straightening a few window displays before reaching up beside the door to turn off a lighted sign hanging in the window.
Following her up-stretched arm, my eyes land on the bundled mistletoe hanging directly over the door-- the door where Booker is standing.
That tingle still tickles my lips where he kissed me so quickly back at the drive in that I could almost think I imagined it.
The whole fake engagement thing has become a bit of joke, seeing as how we never made it to Mom and Dad's, but it's been kinda fun watching him squirm every time I give him a little pay back for the way he seems to like making me uncomfortable.
I go for it.
Standing on my toes, I steady myself with my free hand to his chest-- his very solid chest-- and lay my lips against his.
My plan had been to give him a taste of his own medicine. Just a light kiss, nothing for him to read into.
My plan backfires spectacularly when Booker's arms wrap around me, pull me tight, and his lips part so his mouth can claim mine.
The world around us ceases to exist. I immediately forget that I started this. I forget that it's all fake. I forget about Clayton, his prison break, and the probability that he's the one sending me those creepy texts.
Mostly, I forget that we are in a public place, holding up a sweet woman's attempts to close her shop and get home to her family, while my hands are dangerously close to making a move that's sure to get us arrested for public indecency.
A light coughing sound nearby does a better job of bringing Booker back to reality than it does me.
"Sorry, just got engaged," he lies smoothly to the woman giving us a knowing, but considerably less patient, smile.
"Mistletoe." I point upward, blushing contritely. My face is almost as hot as the space between my legs. Which is molten with arousal.
The woman looks between us and smiles.
"I remember those days," she tells us with a twinkle in her eye as she ushers us out the door. "Better get back home so you can enjoy the storm."
All the way back to the truck, I'm reeling from the kiss.
"Is this normal?"
Booker's deep voice snaps me out of my thoughts-- and the filthy places they've been-- as he climbs into the cab of the truck after making sure I'm buckled in on my side, shaking snow off his jacket and gesturing outside.
"Yeah," I laugh, "it's not unheard of for the mountains to get snow on Christmas eve."
"Smart ass," he scolds, but there's an odd sort of smile on his lips when he looks over at me as he pulls onto the street with extra care.
That smile riles up my insides all over again and suddenly, I don't know if I'm in a hurry to get back to our hotel or if I want to find any possible excuse to avoid being alone in it with him all night.
Booker
"Imeant this much snow...all at once like this. The sun was shining when we left the hotel this morning."
The truck might be equipped for the Montana winter just as well as any of the others I see in town, but winter driving isn't something I've done much of, especially not on roads that haven't been plowed.
The snow started an hour or so ago, but suddenly it's piled up on the road, the sidewalks, roof tops, park bench seats. Hope Peak is a ghost town-- a Christmasy, twinkling, ghost town, with all the businesses closed early between the snow and wanting to get a jump start on holiday festivities.
As I make the slow drive back to the hotel, I'm relieved at having let the old man there talk me into keeping the room another night-- and not entirely because of the snow.
I hadn't been expecting Avery's kiss, but the second her lips were against mine, I couldn't stop myself from taking full advantage of the opportunity. The way she kissed me back? That's what's got my heart rate up-- as well as my dick.
"I told you this morning it was going to be dumping by the afternoon...give it another hour and it'll be a full blown blizzard."
She laughs beside me, poking fun at me for being caught off guard by the change in weather.
Pulling into the space reserved for our room, the parking lot at the Last Hope Inn is a much different picture than it was when we arrived last night.
"I think I understand how the place got its name," Avy says.
"Yeah, I bet nights like this are how they make their money."
The small motor lodge's parking lot is full, the "NO" now lit on the neon vacancy sign. My guess is that a lot of travelers were thanking the Christmas angels for one last chance at getting off the road tonight.
As soon as Avery gets out of the truck, I hear the splash of her boots landing in a puddle. The snow is getting deep, but the parking lot is full of slush and mud from the cars trying to get into the spaces.
I should have known better, but my protective instincts have been on extra high alert since seeing those texts that she's been getting.
But Avery's the one who grew up in this state, albeit in a small town farther east of here.
Still, I can't stop myself from rushing to the other side of the truck, thinking maybe she needs help on the icy pavement.
So it's me that slips on the frozen-over slush, sending me skating directly into Avery just as she closes the door.
I crash into her, her puffy coat throwing off my sense of perspective and causing my hands to sink into the soft contours all the way down to the soft contours of Avery underneath.
My momentum is halted abruptly by Avery's body, now pinned tightly between me and the side of my truck. Her hands fly to the side for balance, but they're useless to push me back, due to the number of decorative gift bags she's holding.
"You okay?" She asks once she's recovered from the shock of my weight landing abruptly against her.
"Thought you needed help." I smile down at her apologetically, but I do nothing to put space between us.
I like the feel of her against me. All those curves pressed to my front, even through the bulk of her coat, have me forgetting the cold and the falling snow, and even the fact that we're fully exposed to public view.
All I want to do is kiss her again. And with the way Avery looks up at me through her thick lashes with a blush on her cheeks from more than the cold air, I'm don't stop to wonder if she wants me to.
Her skin is cold against mine, but her mouth is warm. Her lips falling open for me without hesitation and her hot little tongue sliding against mine so damn eagerly that all I can think of is getting more of her.
My fingers slip under the bottom of her coat and the way her stomach tenses and jolts under my touch has my dick aching to feel other muscles do the same.
Avery whimpers against my mouth when my fingers begin to roam over the full curves that have had me half crazy since I first saw them, but it's when I find my way down to her bare flesh that she pulls away with a gasp.
Her mittened hands land on my arms, bags rustling with the sudden movement.
"Sorry," I pull back quickly, giving her back her space.
I'm not fucking sorry in the least. I'm starving for her, but if Avery's not comfortable with crossing the next line then I'll die without going there.
"I don't want you to stop." Her voice is deepened and throaty, her breath billowing in clouds as she speaks.
"Then why--"
"Your hands are freezing cold, Booker."