Page 47 of Daddy's Little Christmas

Another breath.

“Grown, small, and everything in between.”

My chest felt too full, tight in a way that wasn’t pain.

“I like the man who makes sarcastic comments about candy landscaping,” he went on, mouth curving. His thumb traced a small arc, keeping me grounded.

“I like the boy who holds a plush like it’s a lifeline.”

My throat worked.

“And I like the part of you that wants structure—and the part that’s still learning how to ask for it.”

Every word landed somewhere low in my chest.

“And if it ever feels like too much,” he finished, voice calm and sure, “we stop.”

I didn’t have a clever thought.

Just the quiet, startling certainty that I was being seen.

His lips found mine again—firmer this time, but still patient. His hand at my waist tightened just enough to tell me how much he wanted me—without asking anything of me.

He stepped in closer, chest lining up with mine, his thigh sliding between my legs. Heat flared at the contact, sharp and immediate.

Desire rolled through me, thick and startling. It had been so long since I’d let myself feel it that for a second, I didn’t recognize it as mine.

Then I shifted—barely—and felt him.

Hard.

Pressed along my upper thigh.

Wanting me.

The jolt of it nearly buckled my knees.

He swallowed the small sound I made, angling his head to deepen the kiss. His tongue brushed my lower lip, asking.

I opened for him on instinct, my arms sliding up around his neck, pulling him closer as the world narrowed to heat, breath, and the steady certainty of his body holding mine.

When we finally eased apart, my hands stayed curled in his coat, reluctant to let go.

“You good?” he asked softly.

I nodded, surprised by how true it felt.

We stood there a while longer, breathing each other in, the snow falling soft around us—no rush or rules, just the quiet knowledge that whatever this was, it was real.

Chapter 9

Graeme

I rubbed a hand over my face and huffed out a slow breath.

Forty-five, Whitlock. You’d think you’d be less affected by a kiss at this age.

But it hadn’t been just the kiss.