I swallow, looking up at him, into those piercing green eyes that had me head over heels for him when we were sophomores in high school.
“I wanted your help because I trust you, Filson,” I tell him plainly. Honestly.
He looks down at me and I wish, right then, that Filson liked me. That he thought of me as something more than a spoiled girl who got everything she ever wanted. Because the truth is, that isn’t the truth at all. I wish Filson saw me as an equal.
And more than that, I wish Filson would meet my eyes and tell me the words I’ve always longed to hear.
“You trust me?” he asks gruffly.
I nod.
His hands on my waist seem to hold me more firmly. Snow falls down, swirling around us with the two of us caught in a blizzard, and my emotions; the ones I suppressed for the last ten years, rise to the surface. I can’t seem to hold back my want for Filson. A man that seems to be so wrong for me that it’s ridiculous to even entertain these feelings.
But they are here. Real. Nonetheless.
“Why?” he asks. “Why do you trust me?”
I lick my lips before answering. Not wanting to say it wrong. “Because I’ve known you longer than anyone else on Earth. Because my granny adored you. And I know you don’t like me, but—”
“I never said that, Maple.”
My eyebrows lift. Hope blossoming even though so much of my life is so close to ruin.
I open my mouth words spilling out, “I thought you… I mean, back in school…”
He swallows and then takes my hand and pulls me to him. Time stops, the world spins, and I am in Filson Barre’s arms. I close my eyes, my miracle right here, outside his cabin. Right here, against him. His mouth meets mine. I melt faster than the snowflakes falling around us.
I’m not slipping anymore.
Right now, I am utterly head-over-heels.
Filson
I pull her back into my cabin. Wanting to kiss her again, take her, have her — everything. This girl has had my cock hard for years and nothing she’s saying now is changing that.
It doesn’t make sense. The reason why she’s here. Why she wants me to fix her house up now in the middle of winter. She might think I’m nothing more than a man with a hammer and nails — but to be perfectly honest, I don’t care what she thinks of me right now. Because I know what I think of her.
She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever laid on eyes on and she’s in my cabin, looking at me with eyes full of hope. And I may be a man living alone in the woods, but I know what I see. And I see the longing in her eyes.
We move silently, our bodies pressed tightly together. My hands are on her cheeks and we both lean in, the moment stills, the fire cracks, the moment ours.
I kiss her again. The kiss I’ve been wanting all my life.
The kiss I saved for her and her alone.
It’s better than I imagined, and you better believe I’ve been imagining this. Dreaming of it. Her lips are soft, and she moans gently as the kiss deepens, as our tongues entwine. As the heat of our hearts warms us up from our fingers to our toes.
When we pull apart, I feel like a new man.
“That was my first kiss,” she admits, her words causing my heart to pound. Is that true? Has she waited for me the way I’ve waited for her? “Is that insane?” she asks. Her cheeks are red. “I’m twenty-five years old and never kissed a man before.”
I clench my jaw, then look down to the floor, my cock bulging in my jeans. “Not insane to me.”
“I bet you’ve kissed lots of other girls,” she says, revealing a trace of insecurity, something I’ve rarely glimpsed in her.
“Not one.”
“Never?”
I shake my head. “Never.”
“I always figured, since you left school early you —”
“There’s a lot about me you don’t know, Maple.”
She nods. “I’m realizing that.”
I want so much more of her, want to hold her against me all night long, but Sammy is up, barking up a storm and it makes us step back, move to the window to see a big truck coming up the driveway.
“Are you kidding me?” I groan, running a hand through my hair. It’s the last person I want here when Maple and I so close to… well, everything.
“It’s Asher,” she says, eyes widening, her fingers running through her hair to smooth it.
“You know him?”
“Sort of.” She frowns. “What’s he here for?”
“No fucking clue.”
Her head snaps back to me and I regret my word choice.
Asher is knocking on the door a minute later. Grunting, I pull it open, hating that he’s here.
“Filson,” he says curtly. “What is Maple St. Claire’s car doing here?”
Behind me, Maple’s voice rings out. “Hey, Asher.”
He frowns, taking us both in. His designer winter parka flashing its label, his boots look brand new, everything about him is curated. Pretentious. A city council member with more sway than he’s earned.
And he’s looking at Maple like she’s his.
“I came here to give you this, the final decision by the board.” Asher Martin hands me an envelope and I take it, not wanting to discuss this in front of Maple. “I figured I’d hand-deliver it since you refuse to use email.”
“Picked a bad day to drive up here,” I say.
He sneers. “Have you seen my truck?” His brand-new, top-of-the-line truck is directly behind my old as fuck Chevy pickup. “Looks like you’re more than overdue for an upgrade.”
My truck may be old, but it’s been as true a friend as Sammy and I won’t have anyone standing on my front steps judging her.
“Did you need anything else?” I ask tightly.
“I only need her.” He gives Maple a smile, gleaming white teeth that look more like a wolf snarl than anything else. “Need help getting home? I could follow behind you to make sure you get home in one piece.”
“Oh, um…” She looks between us both as if caught in the headlights.
“We have a date this afternoon. I know you didn’t forget. Ice skating in the park, you said it was your favorite holiday tradition.”
“One of them,” she corrects. “One of my favorites.”
“Right,” Asher chuckles and my shoulders tense. This douche bag is taking Maple out? “Sorry, what were you up here for again?” he asks Maple.
She falters, not seeming to want him to know she came here asking me to be her glorified handyman. And I won’t out her even if she and Asher are dating.
Because unless she was lying, I was still Maple St. Claire’s first kiss.
And that counts for something.
Everything, maybe.
“She wanted me to come by and put up her Christmas lights,” I tell him, letting her off the hook.
“Right,” she says, exhaling her relief. “Tomorrow morning, right?”
Asher frowns. “Don’t you have the soup kitchen volunteer meeting tomorrow?”
I snort. “Keeping pretty close tabs on her, huh?”
He lifts his eyebrows, then takes in my cabin and smirks. “Yeah, I am.”