Page 5 of First Kissmas
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Courtney.”
“We’re both freezing.” A pause. “Please.”
Goddamn it. I can’t let her spend the night like this.
I move slowly, easing myself under the covers next to her. The mattress dips as I settle in.
A violent shiver runs through her body. I can feel it shake the mattress.
“Come here,” I say softly.
She hesitates. I wait, not moving, barely breathing. Then she shifts closer, and I wrap my arms around her, telling myself it’s just for warmth. Her hair brushes my chin, carrying that subtle floral scent.
Gradually, she relaxes against me, her breathing slowly evening out.
I stay awake long after she falls asleep, acutely aware of her body curled up against my chest. Her hands rest against my shirt, fingers occasionally twitching as she dreams.
Outside, the storm rages on.
My arms tighten around her as a particularly strong gust rattles the windows. She makes a small sound in her sleep and burrows closer.
I know I should pull away. Put space between us. Everything about this situation screams danger, from her brother hunting her to the way my body responds to her closeness. The last thing she needs is one more complication in her life.
I close my eyes, trying to focus on the sound of the storm.
Instead, all I notice is how perfectly she fits against me, how right she feels in my arms.
3
COURTNEY
Iwake to warmth and the unfamiliar weight of someone’s arm around my waist. For a moment, panic rises in my throat—until I remember where I am. Who I’m with. The steady rise and fall of Ryder’s chest against my back brings an unexpected comfort that battles with my instinct to pull away.
His breath stirs my hair, and heat floods my face as I realize how perfectly we fit together, how natural it feels to be held like this. I ease out from under his arm, careful not to wake him. The loss of his warmth hits immediately as my feet touch the cold floor.
The window draws me in. Outside, the storm has transformed everything into a pristine white landscape. Snow thickly blankets the street, with deep drifts piled against buildings.
The realization hits me hard: I’m trapped here. But as I process that thought, relief washes over me. If I’m stuck here, Eli is stuck where he is, too. For now, I’m safe.
A soft knock breaks through my thoughts.
“Good morning, dear.” Mrs. Miller’s voice carries through the door. “Have you seen Ryder? I checked the hallway, but he and the cot are gone.”
I open the door a crack, keeping my voice low. “He stayed in here. The cold was too much last night.”
Her eyebrows lift, but her expression remains kind. “I see. Well, the power’s back on now. I’ve got coffee brewing and breakfast warming in the oven. Come down when you’re ready.”
“Are the roads completely blocked?” I ask, trying not to sound too hopeful.
“They won’t be cleared until tomorrow at the earliest.” She pats my arm. “But we’re well-stocked here. No need to worry.”
After she leaves, I turn back to the room. Ryder is awake and getting out of the bed. Morning light catches the muscles in his arms and highlights the way his t-shirt clings to his broad chest. The sight makes my mouth go dry.
“You can have the bathroom first,” he says, running a hand through his sleep-mussed hair. “I’ll get ready after you.”
I grab my things and head to the bathroom, needing space to breathe, to think. To remember why I can’t let myself feel this way about anyone right now.
The inn’s dining room glows with warm light, decorated for Christmas with garlands and red ribbons. A small tree stands in the corner, its vintage ornaments catching the morning sun. The sight stirs something in my chest—a longing for the kindof Christmas morning I haven’t experienced since before my parents died, filled with warmth and laughter instead of tension.