Frosted by Katy Regnery Page A

her mouth and she arched up to push herself closer to him as he swiped her lips with his tongue and she parted her lips to meet him.
    Having been married for decades, it wasn’t that Grace hadn’t been kissed before, but she’d never experienced this rush of heat—of passion—from kissing Harold. The push and pull of each intense lip lock, the soft sucking sound of his tongue licking hers, the way his thumbs stroked her cheek…it was consuming, almost dangerous, because she almost felt that she would do anything, give anything, be anything, for it to never, ever end.

Chapter 6
     
    Which it did. Too soon.
    He leaned back from her suddenly, his chest still pressed against hers, but his face several inches away. Panting lightly, his eyes were wide as they stared at her lips before searching her face.
    “Why’d you stop?” she asked, her breasts pushing into the hard expanse of his chest with every shallow breath.
    “Because that was…um…” He dropped her eyes, shifting so that he could sit beside her on the couch, and she immediately missed the warmth of his body partially covering hers. Her blanket had slipped a little, uncovering her thighs against the back of the couch, and he righted it, tucking it under her legs and then keeping his hand tucked beneath her as he leaned over her.
    “What? What was it?” She couldn’t help the ribbon of panic that unfurled through her body, even as she kept her voice calm. Hadn’t he enjoyed it? Oh, God, what if he hadn’t?
    He covered his lips with his hand for a moment, staring at her, before clearing his throat. “Intense.”
    His words made her so happy, she laughed softly. “Don’t you kiss all the lonely widows who sprain their ankles in the woods in the middle of a blizzard?”
    He shook his head, his cheeks pink as he dropped her eyes, smiling down at the blanket. “No.”
    “Never?”
    “I’ve never kissed a guest before five minutes ago,” he said softly. “Wasn’t appropriate, but I…the way you asked, I couldn’t say no.”
    “I’m glad you didn’t.” Truth be told, all she wanted was for him to do it again.
    “Probably wasn’t a good idea, though,” he added.
    Shoot.
    “No?” she asked, hearing the uncertainty in her voice.
    He shook his head, removing his hand from under her thigh and scooting back until he rested against the opposite side of the couch facing Grace. He lifted one leg, pressing it flush against hers and kept the other on the floor. In a strange way, it comforted her to still have physical contact with him, even if it wasn’t the contact she specifically wanted. It meant that, maybe, he still wanted her.
    “Tell me about yourself,” she said, anxious to learn more about him, to keep him engaged. “Is Roger your only child?”
    He took a deep breath, looking out the window where the snow still fell at a clip. “You want some tea? I could boil some water.”
    “Sure,” she answered. “Thanks.” He got up and she instantly missed the warmth of his leg pressed against hers, but wanted to keep him chatting, “You never told me about this place…why isn’t it open today?”
    He answered her from the kitchen behind her where she heard him opening cabinets and setting mugs on the counter. “It’s usually open on the weekends, but if you look in the corner of the room, behind you, by the door, you’ll see the hole in the ceiling. Bad storm a few weeks back and a tree fell through the roof. Building isn’t up to code until we can get a contractor up to fix it.”
    She glanced over her shoulder where the corner of the ceiling was covered with a royal blue plastic tarp.
    “Is that why there’s no electricity?”
    “Yep.” He set two mugs on the table in front of her, and then headed back to the kitchen where she heard water running. “There’s a generator, but I checked when we got here and it’s completely covered with snow. I don’t even know if it has fuel. I figure we’ll be okay with the fire until the