Chapter 34
Thirty-Four
Colt
She narrows her eyes at me, suspicion in every line of her gorgeous body.
I bite back a smile and get out, moving around to her side and tugging open the door.
“You’re not about to shove me into a snowbank, are you?”
“I need two good arms for that, baby.” I reach in and undo her belt. “Come on.”
She puts her hand in my outstretched one and I tug her to her feet. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
We had snow this week, enough to stick, to make those snowbanks, but not enough to compact into dirty icy masses.
Enough that I saw the lights on here at the outdoor market a couple of days ago when I drove by.
Enough…that I know Kylie is going to love this.
I lead her around the small shack that serves up those delicious hot dogs and up the narrow trail.
“Is this where you bury my body?” she asks as the trees close in and the path narrows.
“Funny.”
A sexy smile pointed in my direction. “I thought so.”
Faint music hits my ears and I know the moment that she hears it because her steps falter. “Wh—?”
But we’re turning the corner and—
“Oh, my God.”
The hidden clearing is ringed in twinkling lights, small booths set up on the edges—selling everything from hot chocolate to funnel cakes to hats and gloves and trinkets.
“What is this?” she asks, spinning in a slow circle, the smile on her face not sexy in the least. It’s filled with wonder, with awe, with joy, and it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
“Winter carnival,” I say. “They hold it for a few weeks every December.”
She stops her revolution, gaze locking onto mine. “Why are we here?”
“Because I thought you’d like it.” I touch her cheek. “And because I still owe you that first date.”
She closes her eyes.
But when she doesn’t open them for a long moment, I start to think I fucked up.
“Baby?”
Her lids peel back and then she’s in my arms, her lips pressed to mine.
“Let’s see everything,” she says, dropping back down onto her heels, taking my hand, and tugging me in the direction of the first booth.
Hot chocolate.
“I thought you were full?” I ask as she places an order for two of “The Works.”
“My dessert stomach is never full.”
Grinning, I swipe my card before she can dig in her purse for her wallet.
“Colt,” she protests softly.
“Date,” is all I say in return.
Her smile is soft, sweet, and then we’re strolling through the booths, hot chocolates in hand.
“Oh, look at that!” she exclaims of a tiny stuffed cow, complete with an adorable mop top of hair, picking it up and cuddling it close for a couple of seconds before putting it back down amongst its brethren and drifting toward the end of the table.
I catch the shopkeeper’s eye.
He smiles and we make a surreptitious exchange—cash for cow—as Kylie searches through earrings and bracelets and hair clips.
I make a few more quiet purchases as she snags a couple of items for the reading corner in her classroom, and then we’re moving toward the dance floor where the soft music is originating.
It’s covered by a tent with tables on the perimeter and heaters propped up at regular intervals to make it a cozy place to stop and eat the funnel cake she insists she has room for.
“Want some?” she asks, breaking off a piece and holding it up.
I open my mouth to accept the offering, nipping at her fingers as she plops it into my mouth.
Giggling, she breaks off some for herself.
“This is wonderful,” she says softly.
“It is.”
“No.” She gives me another bite. “I mean, this time with you. The snow starting to fall. That stuffed cow in your pocket—”
I pat said pocket. “Is that what that is?”
A grin. Another proffered bite of funnel cake. “Treats and trinkets, soft music and cool air and a hot hockey player to keep me warm.”
“Now we’re talking.” I break off a bite, pop it into my mouth, reach for another—
Her hand snags my wrist, and I start to lift my free palm in surrender, a promise to leave her treat for her rising in my throat.
“You’re wonderful, Colt,” she murmurs. “You. All that you are. All that you make me feel.”
“Baby—” I begin, seeing her eyes glimmer with emotion.
“Dance with me?” she asks, blinking rapidly.
“Always, starfire.” I turn toward the dance floor, the soft music lending itself to holding her close and drying those tears of hers.
“No,” she says and before I can ask her to explain, she’s tossing the remains of the funnel cake in the trash and tugging me out from under the tent.
Into the powder floating from the sky.
She flows into my arms like she’s never been hurt, like she’s never been scared of my touch…like she’s never spent a moment anywhere else except my embrace.
“You’re beautiful.”
“And you’re wonderful,” she says again and I feel the same burst of pleasure, of warmth, of…discomfort as I do every time she says that.
“I know you don’t believe me yet.”
I freeze, the music flowing around us, the snow continuing to fall.
“That’s okay. I’m looking forward to convincing you.”
“Kylie—”
She shifts closer. “Shh. Don’t fight it.”
“Baby—”
“I said, don’t fight it.”
“Bossy.” I kiss a snowflake off the tip of her nose and she smiles.
“Yup.” She settles her head on my chest and starts swaying. “And you like it.”
I inhale the sweet, floral scent of her, feel the softness of her body pillowed against mine, and know that it’s not just that I like it.
I love it.
I love every single part of Kylie Connors.