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Giving him a grateful smile, both of us join the waiting crowd and together, we watch as his grandparents stand near the covered window. As the people around us cheer and start a five-second countdown, I join them and we gasp in unison when Gramps tears the black sheet down, revealing the colorfully adorned glass.

“Merry Christmas!”

“Ho ho ho!”

“Happy Christmas!”

Everyone cheers and hugs each other. Twisting to face Kingston, I rest my hands on his big shoulders as I peer up at him. “Merry Christmas, King.”

He taps my nose. “Merry Christmas, my stubborn girl.”

I stretch on my toes and press a quick kiss against his mouth. His gaze darkens both in surprise and yearning. But before he can deepen it, someone taps on my shoulder to wish me happy holidays.

I lose count of how many people hug me, as though I’ve been living here my whole life. Afterward, Kingston and I help pass around the cookies and chocolates his nana made. My first night here couldn’t have been more amazing. I’ll be a little sad when it’s time to leave.

After bidding Kingston’s grandparents a good night and promising to come tomorrow, I exit their house. I slow down walking when I observe Kingston on his knees and signing whatlooks like a card for a kid, who is bouncing on his toes in pure excitement.

I close the gap when Kingston stands to his full height and ruffles the little boy’s head before he runs off.

“What was that about?” I curiously tease.

His gaze snaps to mine, eyes dark underneath the moonlight. His face remains intense, savage like a wolf on the snowy mountains. I swallow nervously, sensual tension floating and thickening in the air between us.

It’s just us on the empty street.

I stop before him, reach out, and tug him closer with the edges of his leather jacket. A shiver, not from the cold but from his proximity, passes through me. Running my palm up his flat stomach rippling with muscles, I ask, “Are you a local celebrity and haven’t told me?”

“Maybe.”

“Shame. Because if it were a solid yes, I would’ve said yes to dating you.”

“You want to date a famous person?” He cups my face. “Is that on your naughty list too?”

“Maybe,” I repeat his answer, though I’m kidding. Celebrity or not, my feelings for him wouldn’t change. “Seriously, though, what were you signing?”

“Just a card. He was collecting signs from every house. A school project or something.”

“Interesting.” I yawn, the jet lag finally catching up.

“Sleepy? I completely forgot you arrived today.” Kissing my forehead, he murmurs, “Let’s get you back to the lodge and into bed.”

I bump my head on his chest and sigh. “How far is the resort from here?”

“Hop on my back. I’ll give you a piggyback ride.”

“What?” I pull back in shock. “No way. You’re tired too, and I can walk.”

His domineering and protective streak returns and he commands me in a no-nonsense voice, “It’s either that or I’m carrying you in my arms.”

I open my mouth to argue but he shuts me up with a stern look.

“Okay. But only halfway.”

He rolls his eyes and gives me his back, crouching enough for me to easily maneuver myself on him. My legs go around his lean waist and my arms lock around his neck. Without so much as a huff, he straightens to his imposing height.

I feel like I’m sitting on a mountain and find myself giggling. “You know, I’m not the only stubborn one between the two of us.”

“Yes, you are,” he retorts and starts walking.