Page 42 of The Lie That Stole Christmas

He let out a breath and stepped around the counter until he was right beside her.She turned in her seat, her big brown eyes gazing up at him.She was fresh-faced, not a stitch of makeup on her porcelain skin.Yet she still glowed with an inner beauty that could never be extinguished.

“That was never my intention.It’s just…” It was now or never.They weren’t arguing.They were speaking like two civilized adults.What was that old saying?The truth will set you free.“I have a lot of regrets in my life.Most of them involve you.Seeing you, being near you, it stirs things up I long ago shoved down.”

“What regrets?”

“Letting you go.Not going after you.I told myself it was for the best, but that didn’t mean I didn’t try to un-convince myself every second of the day for years.Do you know what it’s like to want something so bad, but you can’t have it?”

“Yes,” she said, barely above a whisper.

The admission hung between them.

Ashley’s eyes locked on his, her fingers still wrapped around the strawberry she’d forgotten to eat.There was no teasing in her expression now.The walls she’d been keeping up started to lower, revealing her true self.

“Every day,” she admitted.“For a long time, I wondered what would’ve happened if things were different.If I weren’t a Wetherby.If you weren’t a Reeves.If we had just met on the streets of New York, far away from Winterridge.Maybe we could have been happy.”

“Ashley—”

“Don’t.”She shook her head.“You asked.”

Moonlight spilled through the kitchen, casting streaks of silver across the floor.The large kitchen suddenly felt too small.His pulse quickened as he took a step closer.

“You were supposed to be the one thing I never lost,” she said in barely a whisper.

The words slammed into him with unyielding force.For years, he convinced himself that she had moved on, that he didn’t matter to her anymore.That whatever they shared belonged to naive kids who didn’t know any better.

He cupped her cheek, staring into her eyes, past the surface and deep into her soul.She didn’t forget him.Or them.She remembered everything just as he did.His fingertips brushed a loose strand of hair from her cheek, relishing the soft feel of her skin.

Her breath caught, echoing in the quiet space.

“Carter…”

God, the way she said his name.It broke through his own walls, resurrected by loss and fear.Tearing down the carefully constructed barrier around his heart, reminding him that she was the reason it beat.

His gaze dropped to her mouth.

The air between them electrified with years of regret, longing, and heartbreak.Every stolen glance they’d had since she returned to Winterridge.Every confession left unsaid.

Her hand lifted, pressing against his shirt as his head came down.Her fingers fisted the fabric, but instead of pushing him away, she drew him closer.

His fingers slipped into her hair, ignoring all those old warnings that had him let her go in the first place.He was done listening to them, done listening to her brother, and the made-up hierarchy of society.

He bent his head, giving her a chance to push him away, to tell him she didn’t want to.When she didn’t, he captured her lips with his, sinking into her warmth.Her mouth moved, no hesitation, just a desperate rhythm that he kept pace with.

She lifted from her seat.His hands slipped from her face and dug into the flesh of her ass, lifting her onto the counter.Her legs instantly wrapped around his waist, heels digging into his backside.So many nights he dreamed about her, about her mouth on his, her hands dipping beneath his shirt.

A shiver ran through him at the cold contact of her hands on his bare stomach.

Eight years.

Eight years of convincing himself he had done the right thing.Eight years of wondering where she was, what she was doing, and whether she was happy.Eight years of seeing her in every Christmas tradition he tried to keep alive at Winterridge.And now.She was here in his arms.

He trailed his mouth over the silky skin of her neck, dragging his tongue across the soft skin, tasting her sweetness.He’d spent too many years trying to forget how it felt to have her this close, but as his tongue swirled and she moaned, he never wanted to forget again.

Her hands grabbed his face, guiding him to her.Their lips crashed together in a frenzy.Desire surged through his veins, his cock pressing uncomfortably against his pants.He stepped closer still, his hand urging her lower back until her core rocked against his bulge.

Those cold fingers skimmed along his waistband and fumbled with his zipper, yanking it open in one graceful tug.If she touched him, he wouldn’t be able to last, and he had eight years to make up for.He hooked the top of her pajama pants and tugged them past her hips, tossing them behind him as he spread her legs with his shoulders.

“No panties,” he managed to say as he slid his finger across her wet center.Her ass wiggled as she anticipated, and he didn’t wait long, tipping forward and licking the swollen nub.She cried out with the thrust of his finger sinking into her damp heat.