Cole was waiting patiently on her couch when she returned from kissing Parker goodnight. She took the space beside him, and he stared at her expectantly, smiles in his eyes.
“Calling it a night?” he asked.
She sank beside him, feeling the heat of his side. He didn’t move away.
“Thank you for what you did, for saving an awkward moment,” she said, hugging a decorative yellow pillow to her chest. “I’m sorry it had to go there.”
Cole settled back as well, extending his legs once more. “Your ex is remarried, I take it.”
She shook her head. “Not yet. But the date is set.”
“And Parker is okay with it?”
“I think so.”
Cole shifted forward and moved a hair away from her face to get a better view. She swallowed, transfixed by the touch.
“And Parker’s mom,” Cole went on, softer this time. “Is she okay with it?”
Saylor stared at the small tree. Its red, green, and blue lights twinkled, giving off their small amount of light.
“I have to be. For Parker’s sake.”
“Your feelings matter, too,” he said after a drawn-out silence.
“David doesn’t seem to think so.”
Cole drew an arm around her shoulder, and they settled back together. She snuggled against him. He reached for the soft pink afghan and unfolded it, flaring it out across their laps as if they did this every day. “What happened between you two?”
“He cheated on me,” Saylor said, mesmerized as Cole’s fingers found their way to hers the way they did at Rock Creek last night. The touch spiked fire into her veins.
“They worked together, and I found out over Facebook, of all things.”
“I’m sorry,” said Cole. “My wife and I ended it, too, after only two years.”
His wife?
“The trail, the woman you followed here?” she asked.
He dipped his chin in agreement.
“Any kids?” He’d mentioned nieces, but he’d never outright said whether or not he had any children of his own.
This time he stared off, lost in his own thoughts. “I wanted them,” he said. “She didn’t. It seemed like the instant we married, we couldn’t see eye to eye anymore, on anything.”
“I’m sorry, too.” Saylor knew all too well the pain of it all.
“We’re a pair, aren’t we?” His fingers trailed along her arm on one side, interlocking with her fingers on the other. “At least you have Parker.”
“I’m grateful every day for him,” she said, staring at their hands. “He keeps me from drifting back. He reminds me life is worth living.”
After a few more quiet moments, Saylor took in the mistletoe still hanging in its place above the kitchen entry.
“Was that a true story you told? About Loki and the mistletoe?”
Cole shifted and lifted their hands, his fingers toying with hers. “It was. At least as far as Wikipedia is concerned.”
She released a soft chuckle. “You researched mistletoe on Wikipedia?”
“I looked it up out of curiosity one day after one of my coworkers gave mistletoe to everyone as a well-meant gift and had to defend herself against the frustrated phone calls from jealous wives.”
Saylor’s chuckle built to a laugh, mostly because she could picture it happening. Poor woman. “I’m glad you told Parker. He likes that kind of thing.”
Cole straightened, disturbing the warmth they’d built in their cocoon beneath the afghan. He faced her, leaning in closer. “The other part is true too,” he said, lifting the afghan. He took her hand and pulled her to her feet.
“The kissing part?” she asked stupidly.
Still facing her, Cole guided her back to the entryway. She couldn’t break her eyes from him, but she also knew the exact moment they stood beneath the mistletoe, the same way thoughts spread over another person’s expression. There was no audible clue what another person could be thinking, just intuition.
“It’s a tradition,” he said, his voice husky.
Her heart rat-a-tatted. His feet slid closer. She swallowed, pulse raging, every part of her aching for this.
“It would be a shame to break tradition,” she said.
He tilted closer. She couldn’t break from the intensity in his eyes in any other way but to close her own.
Still, doubt crept in. On an exhale, she prayed out the words before his lips had a chance to stop them: “Are you sure?”
A pause and a chuckle. “About kissing you? Absolutely.”
“About me, period.” She allowed her lids to open. His steely blue eyes examined her for a moment, and she did the same. She took in his forehead and hairline, his cheeks, his lips, before resting back on his gaze.
“Cole, are you sure you want to get into this?” She fisted his shirt in her hands.
Bemused, he backed up just enough. Was it just her, or was there the slightest hint of hesitation in his eyes? “You trying to ward me off?”
“I give everything I’ve got in a relationship,” she told him. “I latch on easily, and I’ve got a firm grip. Because of that, I tend to get hurt.”
“I’ve got a pretty firm grip myself.” His hand made its way to the small of her back.
There they were, in that moment of breathtaking stillness. He inched her closer, their hearts beating together, waiting together, wanting together.
She peered up at him through her lashes. All hesitation was gone. Instead, longing burned in his gaze. In that look, she was hopeless. She was lost and falling, and yet found all at once, and she tiptoed, pressing against him to weave her hand behind his neck.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she told him, pulling him down to her.
His lips were soft. Just enough pressure to remind her of this feeling, and yet enough to announce that this was not going to be like other kisses she’d had. Cole had a smile to his kiss, drawing one from her lips in the process. His lips fitted hers
