'Twas the Kiss Before Christmas (Christmas Mountain Clean Romance Series Book 4) by Susan Hatler

Author:Susan Hatler
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Tags: Christmas Mountain Clean Romance Series, Book 4
Publisher: Hatco Publishing
Published: 2019-09-23T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

After the stresses and strains of the past couple weeks, I decided that Adam and I needed a little fun. The hunt for Rudy had left me exhausted and once the adrenaline had worn off I felt like I could’ve slept for a week. But sleep eluded me, because those kisses in the forest kept playing over and over in my head at all hours, never stopping. Between my need for sleep and my kiss-induced insomnia, I was a bit of a wreck.

Once we’d gotten Rudy safely locked into his stable, and with a promise from Joe that he would reinforce the gate so that even Houdini himself wouldn’t be able to escape, Adam had walked me home, where we had shared another kiss at my front door.

“So, do you want to show me what this town has to offer?” Adam had asked, playing the shy boy very well, his dimple seeming to get deeper every time he smiled.

“You mean, apart from runaway reindeer, a dog sled, carriage ride, and Santa’s actual village?” I’d teased.

“Yes, apart from those things. Seriously, if we were going on a date, where would you take me? I’m the new kid in town, don’t forget.”

“The new-old kid, you mean?”

He’d picked up a handful of snow and threw it at me. “I’m twenty-nine, so less of the old, if you don’t mind.”

I thought for a moment. “Are you asking me out on a date?”

“Yes, I am.” He put his hands behind his back and looked up at me from under his eyelashes. “Would you like to go out with me? Tomorrow night?”

Well, how could I refuse? With a chaste kiss on the cheek, I had closed my front door, with instructions to Adam to dress up for our date after work on Tuesday.

The next evening after work, Adam arrived at my house, carrying two takeout cups of hot chocolate and two cinnamon rolls. “Fresh from the oven. Or, so I’m told.” He took a sip of his drink, and then spent the next minute trying to talk through his scalded mouth. “Where are you taking me tonight?”

A photo that used to hang in Mr. Kline’s office had given me the idea of a young Adam, smiling broadly with a gap in his front teeth, holding his dad’s hand at the skating rink in town. I remembered Mr. Kline telling me about how he used to take his son there every Saturday morning, where they would spend a happy couple of hours gliding around the ice before sharing a hot chocolate and then going home. No matter how busy Mr. Kline had been, he never missed a Saturday morning with his son.

My front door had a habit of sticking when it was really cold, so I gave it an extra hard slam, dislodging a pile of snow, which had been sitting above the porch. Unluckily for Adam, he was standing right underneath it and the snow landed on his drink with a splash.

“Well, that’s one way

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