Page 60 of My eX-MAS Emergency


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He looked around too, not seeing anyone in the blinding snow. “Why?”

She took off without answering him and ran the best she could to her car.

“Calista,” he shouted, done staying away from her. As soon as he reached Calista, he gently grabbed her arm and spun her around. “Tell me what to do.”

With her free hand, she wiped the snow off her face. “What do you mean?”

Tristan pulled her closer until they were face-to-face. He stared at her parted lips, ready for her to tell him off. His aching lips hovered above hers, risking the diatribe she was ready to release. But the angry words never came.

Calista’s features softened. “Please, just leave me alone.”

“I can’t. I love you,” he admitted before he could stop himself. But it was the truth. He loved her.

She closed her eyes, hiding from him and the truth. “No, you don’t. And even if you did, why should I believe you?”

“Because,” he whispered, leaning in a little more. “I’m not me without you. And I have to believe part of you has been missing too. I’m tired of living half a life. Aren’t you?”

Her eyes flew open. Terror swirled in them, knowing he spoke the truth. “This will not be like the socks,” she vowed.

Tristan’s brow arched. “What?”

“Nothing.” She tried half-heartedly to pull away.

Tristan refused to let go this time. Instead, he drew her closer, until their lips came dangerously close to colliding. “I love you,” he said before his thumb glided over her lower lip; he longed to kiss her but was afraid of her reaction if he tried.

Calista reached up and with her trembling fingers, grazed his lips as if she longed to remember how it felt to touch him so intimately. “Tristan,” she said his name with the same sweet emotion she used to.

It gave him the courage to press his lips to hers. When she didn’t pull away, he pressed harder, his world immediately righting. It felt like the first time he ever kissed her—he knew his world would never be the same because she was his world. How he had forgotten that, he didn’t know. But he swore he never would again.

Calista grabbed his coat and gripped it tightly, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss. Her tongue begged his to explore every inch of her mouth, and he did so with pleasure. His hands grabbed her face, and his fingers intertwined in her hair, damp from the snow. Anything to get closer to her. He couldn’t get enough of her or the way she tasted like chocolate and cinnamon. Their tongues tangled, neither seeking dominance. They only wanted to dance the way they always had, in perfect rhythm, like old partners.

He was home.

She moaned with contentment, making him kiss her deeper and more urgently.

Unexpectedly, she pulled away from him, a wild, dazed look in her eye. “We should never do that again.” Yet, in the next second, she grabbed his coat and pulled him right back to her for one more kiss, as if she couldn’t help herself. She devoured his lips and mouth, drinking him in like she would never taste him again. That he couldn’t have, but when she pushed him away from her, he didn’t resist.

“Now we’re done.” She turned and swayed like she was tipsy.

He put an arm around her to steady her, smiling, pleased that he still had that effect on her.

“You need to leave,” she demanded.

“That’s not happening.”

She stopped, tears forming in her eyes as she shivered in the cold. “Tristan, we can’t do this.”

“Your kiss says something different.”

Calista looked up at the relentless sky, raining down white, fluffy flakes. “This town,” she cried. “Your parents. They will make sure we never happen.”

Tristan ran a cold finger down her wet cheek. “Not this time.”

Her eyes met his. “Easy for you to say. If I step one toe out of line here, my job and even Deidra’s are in jeopardy. Do you understand what that means? I need to be here for Quinn and Stella. I can’t fight back like I want to.”

“Then let me fight for you like I should have thirteen years ago,” he pleaded like he never had before, knowing his life depended on it. Knowing this time, she was his life.

Calista pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m too tired to think about this.”

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