8. Maya

8

MAYA

We've spent the entire day together decorating the house, sipping on eggnog, and singing to Christmas carols. I've never been happier.

There's comfort in being close to Cade, like wrapping yourself up in your favorite cozy sweater. I can't remember the last time I felt this relaxed, this at ease. He doesn't expect anything from me and takes me just the way I am.

I look outside, grateful to see that it's still snowing. Christmas is two days away, and I want to spend it with Cade.

"Do you want to decorate the trees now? Or are you feeling brave?" Cade wiggles his brows.

"Brave?" I finish winding a string of lights through the evergreen garland on the fireplace mantle. "What are you proposing, Mr. Wylie?"

"Let's go outside and build a snowman."

"A snowman?" I pick up a wooden angel and tuck it into the garland. "But there's a storm out there."

"Which is why we have to be brave." He pointed to the full-length glass window at the end of the room. "We'll put it right there so we can see it from inside."

"I don't know…"

"It'll be fun."

"But I don't have boots or a coat."

"You can wear one of mine. I've got plenty of extras. Come on, duchess, let's do it."

I glance down at his feet, suddenly aware of how big they are. If his feet are big…

I glimpse at his hands…

Oh my, they're big too!

"You go grab a carrot for his nose and something for his mouth and eyes. I'll go get you a nice warm coat, some gloves and a pair of boots. This'll be fun." His hazel eyes crinkled in the corners. "But no snowball throwing."

"No snowball throwing." I crossed my fingers behind my back.

The snow is coming down fast and furious. The wind is howling. My cheeks sting. My teeth chatter like castanets. I'm freezing right down to the bone. My breath flows out in tiny misty clouds. I'm clomping around the snow in size fourteen Timberlands while wearing a coat that could fit three people inside of it.

And I'm having the time of my life.

I finish rolling the last ball of snow and hand it over to Cade. "We were supposed to build a snowman, not a family."

"We're almost done." He ties a scarf around the smallest snowman. "Give him some of those fancy eyes." He laughs.

"Oreos are perfect." I scowl.

"The birds will love them."

I pick up a fistful of snow, pack it down tight, and stuff the snow down the back of his jacket when he squats to put the arms on the littlest snowman.

"Holy shit!" He spins around laughing. "You're gonna pay for that, duchess."

I start to run but can't get far with the massive boats on my feet. He tackles me to the ground, flat on my back. We're both laughing like kids until he pins my arms over my head. Suddenly, I'm not cold anymore. I'm hot. Very hot.

The snow is clinging to his long lashes. His cheeks are rosy and pink. I look away from his burning eyes to his mouth. His breath starts to saw in and out.

Kiss me. Please. Kiss. Me.

My head is swimming, and I know it's not from the eggnog. It's everything Cade.

He licks his lips, and I part mine, hungry for what's to come. However, he doesn't kiss me. He picks up a glove full of snow and smears it across my face.

"That's cold!" I screech.

"How do you think my back feels?" He chuckles. "By the way, you violated the no-snowball agreement."

I wriggle to get free. "I never agreed."

"Umm, yes, you did. You said, no snowball throwing."

"Yes, that's true. I did say that, but my fingers were crossed, so it didn't count."

"I see."

His grip tightens on my wrists. "Now you owe me."

"I owe you?" I wriggle some more. "What do I owe you?"

"A kiss." His eyes twinkle.

"What?" I feign shock while my heart starts pounding.

"Kiss me, duchess."

I scrunch up my face, faking aggravation. "What if I don't want to."

"Then you don't have to."

I chew on my lip. "Fine."

He touches his lips against mine. I blink away the snow falling in my eyes, pucker my mouth, and give him a quick kiss.

He roars with laughter, rolling onto his back.

"What's so funny?" I push myself to my feet, brushing off the snow.

"That wasn't a kiss. It was a peck— the kind you give your unwelcomed old uncle."

"Sorry, did you expect tongue?" I roll my eyes.

"Something with a little passion would've been nice. The kiss you gave me was blah. I know you can do it better." He gets up and takes my gloved hand in his. "Come on, let's go in to get warm. Just remember, you still owe me a kiss."

I exhale a deep breath. "We'll see."

He gives my hand a squeeze. "Lucky for you, I'm a patient man."

His laughter is a low, deep rumble that cuts right through me. I tuck my head down to block the wind. I had an opportunity to give Cade the kiss of his life, and I bombed. With every step, my heart beats faster. I want to kiss him —I want to kiss him now— but I'm afraid I won't be able to stop.

What if he doesn't want more? Because I know I do.

He tugs me into the garage and throws another one of his amazing smiles at me, which turns me into Jell-O. My knees quiver. My stomach dips. He helps me out of the oversized coat, even bending down to untie my boots and slip them off my feet. I've never had anyone be this attentive or this sweet.

"I can do this, you know."

"I know." He takes the knit cap off my head. My hair explodes around me like a big red cloud. He twirls a lock around his finger. "You have gorgeous hair."

He's so close I'm worried he'll hear my blood humming through my veins at a thousand miles an hour. "Thank you."

He gazes down at me. "And the most exquisite green eyes I've ever seen."

"You have nice eyes, too," I mumble.

Do it! Kiss the man before you lose your nerve.

I lean up on my tiptoes, hold onto his shoulders, and brush my lips across his. I can feel him trembling. Something comes over me… I knock off his hat, thread my fingers into his hair, and sweep my tongue into his mouth. He tastes delicious. We kiss for what feels like forever. When we come up for air, his eyes are filled with fire.

"There." I pat his chest. "You've been properly kissed. Satisfied?"

"Satisfied? I'm dumbstruck, woman. What was that?"

"I owed you a kiss. And I pay my debts."

Filled with pride, I strut into the kitchen, hoping I get to do that again.