Chapter 29 #2
“Whoa there!” Roman rumbles as his arms lock around me, steadying me. “Okay, I wasn’t expecting a full-body tackle, but I appreciate the enthusiasm.”
I’m pretty sure I’ve knocked the wind out of him, though honestly, at this point, my own breath has been stolen by the fact that I am literally in his arms. Like, literally.
“Uh,” I stammer, trying to right myself, “I don’t think I’m the best at this.”
Roman’s eyes soften, and that teasing grin melts into something that makes my heart stutter just a little.
He doesn’t say anything at first, holds me there, and I get the feeling that he’s been waiting for this moment.
I can’t help but feel I’ve been waiting for it too, in some way I hadn’t fully admitted to myself.
Slowly, Roman lowers his face toward mine, his hand sliding from my waist to cup my cheek.
I close the space between us, lifting my chin just slightly, and he leans in, his lips soft and warm against mine. I tilt my head, letting the kiss deepen just enough that I can feel the warmth of him seep through, feel the beat of his heart matching mine.
Just as I start to melt into that kiss, there’s a loud crash behind us, followed by a string of curses that could only come from one person.
I whip my head around to see Creed sprawled out on the ice, looking like a very disgruntled snowman. His arms and legs are splayed in all directions, and there’s a moment where he blinks up at the sky, completely stunned.
Roman’s shoulders shake with laughter, and I can’t help but giggle too. “You okay, Creed?”
Creed pushes himself up, muttering something that sounds like “this is bullshit” as he wipes snow off his jacket, clearly over the whole ice-skating situation.
“I’m fine,” he growls. “I’m just—” He pauses, glaring at the ice as if it personally offended him.
“This isn’t made for people built like me. ”
I laugh again, despite myself. “Maybe you should just take a break before the rink comes to life and swallows you whole.”
Creed shoots me a look that’s half-exasperation, half-amusement. “No promises.”
Roman shakes his head, still laughing softly under his breath. “Well, if we’re all going to die of hypothermia or broken limbs, might as well be doing something useful.”
I look up at him, raising an eyebrow. “And what exactly would be useful right now?”
He grins, that mischievous gleam back in his eyes. “Getting off this ice. You and I clearly need a distraction. Preferably one that doesn’t involve falling on our faces.”
I nod vigorously. “Agreed. I want to leave this ‘dancing on ice’ metaphor behind me.”
Creed, now safely back on his feet and holding onto the railing for dear life, adds in a dry voice, “You’re going to leave me here to suffer alone, aren’t you?”
“You were never really in this with us, Creed,” Roman says dramatically, holding his hand to his heart. “You were always an unwilling participant.”
“Well, it’s hard to want to participate when you’re falling into a pit of frozen despair,” Creed mutters, eyeing the ice suspiciously.
Roman shrugs. “Fine. Let’s get out of here before you injure yourself further. I’m in the mood for something… Christmassy.”
Creed perks up at that. “What does that mean?”
“Hot cocoa with marshmallows,” I suggest, suddenly feeling the need for something warm and comforting. “Or mulled wine. Or both.”
Roman grins, pulling me toward the rink’s exit. “Now we’re talking. We need to get you a drink that matches your festive energy.”
“You coming?” I call out.
Creed finally shuffles after us, giving the rink one last wary glance like it might jump up and bite him. Ezra’s laughing too hard to be of any help, so he’s left standing at the rink’s edge, clutching his sides, probably still processing the sight of Creed’s graceful fall.
We find our way to a little holiday stall near the rink, where the scent of cinnamon and orange wafts out, mixing with the cold night air.
The stall’s decorated with garlands of pine and little twinkling lights, and behind the counter, an elderly woman is expertly ladling mulled wine into cups, her face lit up with the glow of Christmas cheer.
Roman leans in with a mischievous grin. “So, what’ll it be? A classic hot cocoa, or something more… potent?”
He raises an eyebrow, holding up the mulled wine as if it’s some kind of dare.
I glance between him and the drinks menu. “How potent are we talking?”
Creed, now standing beside me, mutters, “I’ll take something that helps me forget my humiliating ice-skating skills.”
“You and me both, buddy,” I agree.
Roman orders the drinks, and I watch as he flirts shamelessly with the lady behind the counter, which I can’t help but find charming in a way I didn’t expect. Smooth, I think with a little eye roll.
We’re all handed our drinks, steaming and perfect for a cold night like this. I take my cocoa first, sighing contentedly as I feel the warmth spread through me.
“See?” Roman says, raising his cup. “Told you, best drink in Coyote Glen. Only the finest Christmas magic.”
Before I can even take a sip of my drink, Creed surprises me.
Without any warning, his hand moves to the back of my neck, pulling me gently toward him. My breath hitches before I can even register what’s happening.
His lips crash into mine, and there’s nothing tentative about it. It’s as if he’s been holding this back for too long, and now that it’s happening, he can’t get close enough.
The warmth of the mulled wine is nothing compared to the heat that suddenly spikes between us, and I feel the solid strength of his body against mine as he deepens the kiss.
It’s demanding in a way that both takes me by surprise and makes me want to give in, to let go of every wall I’ve built around myself.
I slide my hands up his chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath his coat, and for a second, I almost forget where we are, or that Roman and Ezra are even around. It’s just me and Creed, and the rest of the world feels miles away.
This has been an unexpected date, but the best date I’ve ever had.
I never want it to end.