Page 89 of Snowed Inn

There’s a knock at the door.

I freeze.

Did I . . . imagine that?

There it is again.

Heart hammering, I practically launch myself toward the door and pull it open.

Jesse is standing in the doorway, still wearing his sexy suit, but with a long, dark coat over it. He looks every bit as conflicted as I feel. He’s holding a bottle of my favorite champagne, Veuve Clicquot. Be still my heart.

“What—” I start, but my voice fails me.

He leans against the doorframe, biting his lip, looking so damn handsome it’s actually painful. “Going somewhere?”

I swallow hard. “Would you believe me if I told you I was coming to find you?”

His eyes flicker with something dark and knowing. “You were?”

I nod.

“In that case, I’m glad I got here first. It’s freezing out there.”

I grab his arm and yank him inside before I can second-guess myself.

Jesse chuckles, pushing the door shut behind him. “Good to see you too.”

He searches the kitchen cabinets for glasses. “We’ll have to use these,” he says, pulling out two tumblers.

“Any glass will do,” I murmur, watching him. I’m not really concerned about stemware at the moment.

He shrugs off his coat. I shrug off mine. They both land on the barstools, forgotten.

Then, with that effortless confidence of his, he pops the champagne and pours a little into each glass. He hands me one and lifts his glass toward me. “To the new year,” he says, his voice quiet but warm.

“The new year,” I echo, clinking my glass against his.

We both take a sip, and suddenly, there’s a weight in the air between us. Something unspoken but heavy.

I put my glass down, inhaling deeply. “Jesse, I need to tell you something before we—”

He sets his glass down too, eyes locked on mine. “Yes?”

“I like you.” Okay, that didn’t come out the way I intended. It sounds more junior-high dance confession than grown adults about to cross a line. I only hope he knows what I’m trying to say. I bite my lip and wait.

Jesse’s smile is devastating. “I like you too, Maria.”

My throat tightens, and I manage a crooked smile. I think he knows exactly what I meant.

Jesse tilts his head, still smiling. “So, now that we know we like each other, what do we do with that information?”

I meet his gaze, my heart pounding.

I know what I want to do. I step forward and kiss him.

It’s slow at first—soft, exploring. But then he groans, wrapping his arms around me, and it deepens, turning hot and hungry.

I tug at his shirt. He pulls me closer.