Page 58 of Snowbound

“Of the time you were watching me and got mad because I took the car and yougrounded me?”

“Mm-hmm. Exactly. You were lucky I went easy on you.”

I snort. “You call that being easy on me?”

He gives my ass a slap and winks, fisting a handful of cookies. “Santa needs to fatten up.”

Then he sees the papers.

“What’s this?”

“I owed you a present or two.” He lifts the story first, reading it quickly. Then again, more slowly. His jaw works, emotion flickering there. When he’s done, he doesn’t speak. Just pulls me close and buries his face in my hair.

“Fuck, lass.” It’s all he says.

Then he sees the coupons. The look on his face shifts to dark, possessive, amused.

“You tryna kill me?”

“Thought it was festive.”

He flips through them, murmuring the words to himself. That vein in his neck throbs, and his breath deepens. When he looks at me again, it’s not sleepy at all.

“You’re mine, Em.”

“I know.”

“No, I mean it. You keep doing shit like this… I’ll never let you go.”

“Good.” I slide a cookie between his lips. He groans and eats the whole thing in a few big bites.

Then he lifts me, fast and rough, one arm under my thighs, and carries me toward the bedroom. My laughter bounces off the walls.

“Merry Christmas, Owen.”

He kicks the door shut—his mouth at my neck.Hands everywhere.

“Merry fuckin’ Christmas, Emma.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Emma

I waketo the steady sound of his heartbeat under my ear.

It’s Christmas morning, and Owen is in bed with me.

Merry Christmas to me.

One arm is around my back, the other slung over me. The sheets are tangled between our legs. My cheek’s pressed to warm skin—his skin—and I don’t move.

I can’t. I won’t.

If I could freeze time, I would stop the clocks right here. Right now.

It smells like cookies. Like cinnamon. Like sugar and spice and everything nice.

My stomach growls, and I bite back a laugh.