The Christmas List: A Small town, single dad, holiday romance by Maren Moore

Author:Maren Moore [Moore, Maren]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-11-25T00:00:00+00:00

8

josie

There’s not a lot of things that I’m sure of right now. My feelings about Wyatt, the future, what all of this means for both of us.

But what I am sure of is that I want him.

Desperately.

God, I feel like I’m going to combust if I don’t feel his skin on mine, if we don’t finish what we’ve started. After that kiss the night at the Reindeer Games and then tonight’s moment in his truck that left me trembling with pent-up need, I feel like my body is on fire. Like it would only take one touch for every part of me to go up in a fiery inferno of desire.

I shut the front door behind me, flicking the lock shut, turning back to press myself against the cool wood. Wyatt’s massive body takes up so much space in my small, cozy living room as he bends in front of the unlit fireplace, adding another log inside of it.

Even with the heat on, there’s a slight chill hanging in the air, but right now, with the way that my skin is humming with anticipation, I can hardly even tell.

Wyatt never put his clothes back on after the Jingle Jump, too focused on getting me into his truck, and now that he’s standing here wearing nothing but a pair of tight swim trunks, my gaze moves over him in a slow perusal, drinking in every inch that I’ve missed since he’s been gone.

He’s raw masculinity.

Tall, broad, powerful, sculpted in ways that I can hardly even wrap my mind around.

He’s… gorgeous.

The defined muscles of his back seem to ripple as he moves the wood around inside the fireplace, and a jolt of desire pulses through me so hard that my breath catches.

I press my thighs together in an attempt to dull the throb that’s building between them, to no avail.

Wyatt’s gaze flits to mine, his mouth twitching when he sees me nearly panting against the front door.

It’s been… a while since I’ve been with anyone.

And truthfully, since he’s come back to town, I can’t even recall how many times I’ve gone back and forth in my head with this same scenario. I tried convincing myself it was a bad idea, tried to think of as many excuses as I could to talk myself out of it.

But everything kept coming back to the fact that I want him, and none of those excuses held up against the war with my heart and mind.

“C’mere, Josie,” he rasps. Those four syllables send a wave of goose bumps erupting along my flesh and a shiver traveling down my spine.

Swallowing down the tightness in my throat, I push off the door obediently, crossing the room one slow step at a time until I’m in front of him.

So close that I can see the newly lit flames from the fireplace dancing in his bourbon-colored irises, which are framed by dark lashes. His eyes seem to smolder, just like the fire.

“Do you know how many times I’ve thought about

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