“Because I didn’t mean to hurt you then, and I don’t want you to hold the past against me now.” He paused. “And I want you to know that I’m not that man anymore.”
“Why do you care what I think?”
“Isn’t it obvious? I want to...woo you.”
She made a disbelieving noise, the corner of her mouth tilting up. “Is that what they’re calling it these days?”
Embarrassed heat rushed through him. Was it possible that she knew his thoughts? Did she know how badly he wanted to pull her down into the snow with him and beneath him? Beyond the pounding of his lustful heart, he could almost hear the sounds she would make, her sighs and moans and gasps of pleasure, while he lost himself in the heated clasp of her.
Garrison cleared his throat. “Yes, that’s what I’d like to call it for now. Wooing is not such a bad word, is it?”
She looked at him again, and it was as if she could see into him, through him. “Wooing? Really?”
“Yes. Definitely,” he said. “At least at first.” Garrison allowed the humor to surface in his voice. And a hint of his desire.
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