Christmas on the Coast by Lee Tobin McClain

Author:Lee Tobin McClain
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HQN Books
Published: 2020-08-10T13:50:10+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

IF SHE’D BEEN ABLE to speak, Amber would have said wow.

Whatever she’d thought kissing Paul would be like, it hadn’t been this: intense, passionate, one hand tangled in her hair, the other pulling her insistently closer.

And she didn’t resist, because she wanted to be closer, wanted to be as close as a woman could be to a man, wanted to press against him, taste him, nestle against his strong chest and stay there forever, protected and warm.

She’d been chilled before, and tired. Now she was hot, full of restless energy that made her kiss him back and pull him closer.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, warning bells were ringing. There was a reason this wasn’t a good idea. They’d both agreed it wasn’t a good idea.

She shoved those rational thoughts aside and sighed against his mouth, then buried her face in his neck, inhaling the scent of him. Clean and fresh, with just a trace of musk underneath to hint at the passionate man she had just discovered him to be. Yeah. She could stay right here, breathing him in while he held her in his strong arms, forever.

He stroked her hair, then rested his cheek on the top of her head. “Whoa, Amber. You’re something else.”

It was probably just as well that the wind kicked up and made her shiver, because it woke her out of the pleasant spell his kiss had put on her. She pulled back a little and looked at him, unable to keep the smile off her face although she knew she must look as shell-shocked as he did.

“You’re cold.” He tucked his jacket closer around her.

It was tender, it was sweet, it was... “You’re not treating me like an invalid, are you?”

He chuckled, low and throaty. “Believe me, you as an invalid is the last thing I’m thinking about right now. Although—” his voice changed “—we should get you inside. I don’t want you to get chilled.”

“I’m not chilled,” she protested, but another whole-body shiver belied her words.

“Come on,” he said. “We need to get you inside. Does your friend Bisky have a house down here?”

“We’re not asking Bisky to take me in like I’m some kind of...” She trailed off.

“Cancer survivor? Who’s still getting her strength back?” He held out a hand and pulled her to her feet, then held his jacket so she could slide her arms into the sleeves.

Grrr. He knew too much. “Come on, I know just where we can go to get warm.” She took his hand and tugged him back toward the road.

Five minutes later, they were walking into the watermen’s bar against Paul’s protests.

“This is no place for a woman.” Paul was looking around, obviously taking in the dim lighting, the neon beer signs, the smoky haze that served as a reminder that this place didn’t follow the usual nonsmoking laws.

“Have you ever been here? Because I have. Hi, Steve,” she called to the bartender. She gave a wave to the couple other customers who were in here and they nodded back.

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