Page 46 of This Christmas

I follow her for a moment and then grab her hand and steer her down another hall. Evangeline doesn’t tug her hand away and I get the feeling she knows where we’re going. This isn’t our first rodeo, especially in this building.

Her feet shuffle behind me, keeping up with my long stride. I turn us around another corner and right into an alcove where one of the classrooms for the adult education classes is. The door’s locked, thwarting my idea. I’m still determined and not about to let this moment go to waste.

I back her into the corner, my tall frame blocking her from the view of anyone who happens to walk by.She looks up at me, her green eyes laced with desire. I know her looks. Her tells. I don’t think I would’ve been able to forget them if I tried.

The back of her fingers trail down her cheek. She closes her eyes and leans into my touch. “I will never forgive myself for hurting you.”

Evangeline nods and then looks at me again. She bites her lower lip and her breathing increases. Is she nervous because she knows I’m about to kiss her, or does she think we’re going to get caught?

I tilt her chin up, giving me a better angle. Slowly, I lower my mouth to hers, waiting to savor this kiss. Evangeline has other ideas and crushes her mouth to mine, moaning when her tongue touches mine.

Her arms go around my neck, yanking me closer to her. I do one better and lift her, using the wall as an anchor, and let her lead this.

Kissing this woman is exhilarating. Every nerve ending tingles, and my heart beats wildly out of control. With each taste of her tongue and scrape of her nails along my skin, my need grows. Enticing a moan from her, about sends me over the edge. It’s far too soon to have those thoughts, but they’re there. Eager and wanting. The desire to be with her, in ways we used to be together, is so great, it’s almost a problem for me.

“Eve,” I’m able to say her name, but barely.

She hums, the sound vibrating right to where she’s moving against me. I want this woman, now and forever, but fear niggles in the back of my mind. It’s far too soon and the last thing I want is for Evangeline to have regrets.

Reluctantly, I pull away. Breathing heavily, I rest my forehead against hers and will myself to calm down.

“I need a minute,” I tell her when she tries to move.

Eve nods against my shoulder. “Do you remember when we were about fifteen or maybe sixteen and we were at the lake?”

“Which time?” I ask, breathing shallowed and somewhat labored.

“The time when we thought we were being sneaky and ran off to the boathouse?”

“Oh my God, my eyes!” I say as the issue in my pants subsides. Still, I don’t move, enjoying having her in my arms. “English class was never the same.”

“Nope.”

Evangeline and I were horny teens. Like every other teen out there, we snuck around. A lot. During the summer it was easy because our parents were working, and we were at the lake most days. We were lying on her blanket, talking and teasing each other, when the mood struck. Our friends were out on their boat, so we took off for the boathouse expecting it to be empty.

Except it wasn’t.

Our English teacher was in there, doing what Eve and I wanted to do. Seeing your teacher in the throes of passion is one thing. Seeing her with someone that wasn’t her husband was a whole other ball game.

Needless to say, the start of the school year was awkward.

“I’m sorry this ruined your plans for the evening,” she says as I gently put her down.

I cup her cheek. My thumb rubs under her eyewhile she looks at me. I lean down and brush my lips against hers.

“The promise of hot cocoa makes up for it.”

“We only have an hour left.”

“Well, then I guess I better go wrap some more presents.”

SEVENTEEN

EVANGELINE

The smart thing for me to do is to tell Zane, thanks but no thanks. Thanks for coming back into my life, but this is where we’re going to stop. Every voice in my head screams at me to pump the breaks, to not follow him down the hall where I know we can hide and make out. To cut him off and tell him he had his chance, and he lost it.

The magic of Christmas makes me believe we can be different this time. Thathe’sdifferent. And while I want to believe in the fairy tale, part of me is scared that all of this sparkle is going to come crashing down around me and he’s going to go back to New York. Or he’s going to realize having the high society life, where money isn’t an object, is far better than living in this small town where the highlight of our Friday night is wrapping presents at the community center.