Page 109 of Mistletoe All the Way

“There isn’t something else he could have been doing there for St. Nick’s?”

I sigh, a little exasperated. “Evergreen Falls is a small town. It’s literally just licenses and permits in that office, and he doesn’t need to renew his. So either he’s going to get a zoning permit to expand Silver Bells and add a bar, which is fine. Nothing wrong with that. But when you add in what he was up to at the tack shop, he doesn’t seem interested in taking care of the horses your gramps has.”

Noah sighs heavily, clearly giving this turn some thought. “You think he’s going to turn it into another St. Nick’s Hangout and spread holiday cheer that way?”

“You bet your cowboy vet ass I do. Instead of keeping the horses and the sleigh rides, he’ll sell them and start another bar. We might not have the proof yet, but the evidence is adding up, Noah,” I say with some urgency. After all, the clock is ticking ever closer to Christmas Eve.

Noah’s jaw clenches. He breathes fire. Finally, he says, “That’s it. Time to play dirty.”

I shudder. I’m so turned on right now I’m almost embarrassed at how molten I am.

“How?”

His eyes darken, glimmering with plans. Silence hums between us, and he breathes out hard, then tells me his idea.

“We need to get these puppies to their foster home, stat,” I say. “It’s time to go shopping!”

We come up empty at the first thrift shop we visit. At the second, we find a red jean jacket that doesn’t quite work for Noah’s plan. We even pop into a feed store at the edge of town, but the clothing options are much more hands-on—boots, flannels, overalls.

Not the vibe we need.

I check the time as we return to my truck in the parking lot. “We need to be at the Christmas market in thirty minutes. It’s online shopping time, Mr. Holiday.”

“Don’t jinx me,” he says as I swipe open my phone and start searching for the outfit in question.

“I’m not jinxing. I’m manifesting.”

“Manifest this,” he orders, then grabs the back of my head and hauls me in for a hot, deep kiss that I didn’t see coming.

My phone clatters to the floorboards with a dull thunk. Suddenly I don’t care about shopping one bit. My head swims with endorphins, and my cells buzz as he kisses me right here in the front seat of my truck. His beard whisks across my face in a way that promises to leave marks.

Good. I want marks. I want to remember him when he’s gone.

When he breaks the kiss, I breathe out hard. “Can I manifest something a little naughtier?”

It’s a rhetorical question, but Noah takes it literally. “You bet your sexy candy cane ass,” he says as he grabs my waist, hauls me over the console, and tugs me onto his lap.

Hello, hard-on.

I rock lightly against him at first. But he’s not playing around. He slides a hand up the back of my jacket, his fingers roping into my hair, gripping the strands. Tugging. I gasp. We’re in a quiet feed store parking lot and twilight is blanketing the town, but this is risky. Someone could see us.

“Noah,” I say, but as I grind harder against him, seeking out more, my warning feels more like a plea.

For him.

My insides spark from his touch. I’m hungry for every little morsel before he leaves town. I flash back to the words he said the other night.

You need this.

And he’s right. I do. I’m a physical person. I crave connection, conversation, contact. With Noah. I want his touch so badly I’m rolling my hips against the outline of his cock here in the front seat of my truck with the clock ticking.

Since I’ll take what I can get.

He blows on his hands, and that small gesture makes my stupid heart soften even more. “I know you hate cold,” he whispers, and he knows so many other things about me too.

My dreams, my hurts, my hopes.

And how to touch me.