Snowflake Wishes by Maggie McGinnis Page A

years.
    He held the tiny pile of snow in front of her face. “Want to make one now?”
    Piper’s stomach flipped, probably in response to the hip-hop dancing her eggs were doing, thrilled that Noah was actually touching her again.
    She closed her eyes. What to wish? She blew on the snow, and it scattered, catching sparkles in the pool of light beyond the awning.
    â€œWhat’d you wish for?”
    â€œCan’t tell, or it won’t come true.”
    He chuckled close to her ear, and it sent wild shivers to every nerve ending she owned.
    â€œDid you—wish that I would kiss you?”
    â€œNo.” Yes.
    â€œDamn.” He reached for another pile of snow. “Try again.”
    She laughed and turned around in his arms, and as she looked into his eyes, there was nothing in the world she could do to stop wishing he would kiss her. She pulled his hand toward her and closed her eyes tightly, remembering how her mother had taught her to sing her snowflake wish.
    â€œSnowflake, snowflake, hear this wish. I wish that I could have one kiss.” She blew the snow from his hand, and then opened her eyes to see him looking down at her with an expression so sweet, so charged, that she almost couldn’t breathe. Then he slid his hand into her hair and brought her closer, touching his lips to hers in a kiss so full of longing that she found herself balling her hands against his jacket, just trying to get closer.
    Kissing Noah made time stand still, just like it always had. When his lips were on hers, when his hands were caressing her, she couldn’t think of anything but him … anything but getting him alone, with far less clothing on.
    In the falling snow, their tongues tangled, and their breaths mingled into tiny puffs of fog in the freezing air. Piper found herself longing for him to pull her down, undress her, kiss her everywhere with these impossibly hot, skilled lips, but good God, it was twenty degrees out and they each had on four layers of clothing.
    Noah pulled away, laughing softly as he touched his forehead to hers. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
    â€œDepends. Are you blushing while you’re thinking it?”
    He laughed. “No. But guys don’t blush as easily as Bellini girls.” He hugged her to him, his hand on her head as he brought it to his chest. “God, I missed you, Piper.”
    â€œI missed you, too.”
    She swallowed hard. Now that his lips weren’t skating across hers, the chill of the porch and the snow started seeping in … as did the chill of reality. Seeming to sense that, he held her closer and kissed the top of her head.
    â€œDon’t think. Don’t ruin it by thinking.”
    â€œBut—”
    She stopped when he placed his finger against her lips. “Shh. It’s a kiss. It’s not a promise, or a mistake. It’s just a kiss.”
    Just a kiss, her foot. Did he have kisses with other women like that? Kisses that made him want to forgo every bit of common sense and disappear for days with someone? She prayed hard that he didn’t, because that would kill her right now.
    â€œOkay,” she finally said. “But for the record, you are still a damn good kisser.”
    He laughed. “Ditto, sweetheart.”
    He turned toward the door and pulled the handle quietly. “Come on back in before we freeze our butts and they find us out here in the morning.”
    Reluctantly, she ducked under his arm and back into the warmth of the diner. She didn’t want to analyze all of the feelings he’d just jump-started with that kiss, but she had a pretty strong feeling that’s all she’d be doing for the rest of the night.
    When they got back to the booth and sat down, she surveyed it, wondering how they’d possibly sleep. The seats were too narrow to curl up on, and too short to stretch out on, but the sides of the booth looked too far apart to try to prop body