+ Excerpt +

​​​

I pushed open the door to the ballroom, wanted to escape from the overly warm room where happy couples were dancing with love in their eyes.

​

My friends were getting engaged, then married, one by one. I wanted something for myself. I thought I'd have that with my ex, but we'd become more like friends by the end.

​

I made it through the lobby of Mistletoe Inn without being stopped. With a sigh of relief, I opened the door to the outside, welcoming the cold gust of air.

​

I tucked my head to avoid the worst of the wind and walked toward my shop where I'd parked my SUV. My feet pinched, walking in the high heels, but I was almost to my vehicle. Then I could escape to my house, the one that still housed my grandmother's doilies and hand-knitted afghans. I didn't feel right redecorating because it still felt like her place. I didn't want to remove her things and upset my mother.

​

I always did the right thing. The expected thing. I never did anything out of the ordinary.

​

The roar of a motorcycle came up behind me, and the bike parked at the curb next to me. The man took off his helmet.

I slowed as I approached, my heart rate picking up.

​

Was this the diversion I'd been looking for?

​

His sharp jaw was lined with scruff, and I wanted to touch his hair to see if it was soft, unlike the hard edges of his face.

I must have been staring because his gaze swung to me. "You know where the winter ball is?"

​

My lips quirked as I came to a stop a few feet away from him. "You're going to the winter ball?"

​

His eyes narrowed on me, and I couldn't help but slowly peruse his body: a motorcycle unzipped to reveal a skintight shirt outlining every ridge of his well-defined muscles and dark jeans that bulged around his considerable thighs. He looked dangerous, the exact sort of man I usually avoided.

​

My last boyfriend had worked for his father's law firm, his face smooth, and he wore suits everywhere he went, even out on dates with me. He was so predictable, so boring.

​

But this man was intriguing. I wanted to do something crazy like climb on the back of his motorcycle and go home with him.

I shivered, and it had nothing to do with the cold air.

​

He raised a brow. "You don't believe me?"

​

I bit my lip to stop the smile that threatened to break free. I hadn't felt so alive in forever. "Oh, I believe you."

​

He considered me for a few more seconds. "You just came from there, didn't you?"

​

I glanced down at my emerald-green gown, the one I thought would adequately represent my role as the Christmas Shop owner. I looked elegant and put together. I wasn't someone that drew men like him. The ones with a bit of an edge. "I was there," I finally said. I should walk away and forget I ever had the idea to engage with this man. He could be dangerous.

"You don't think I should go."

​

"It doesn't seem like a place you'd want to be."

​

He arched a brow. "What if I'm supposed to meet someone?"

​

"It's at the Mistletoe Inn." I waved in the general direction of the inn, my smile fading. Of course he was supposed to be meeting a woman inside.

​

Then I turned and walked away, my heart sinking. I was intrigued for a few seconds, thinking I could do something crazy like climb on a stranger's motorcycle.

​

That my life would be different. But that was a dream. I'd never get on the back of some guy's motorcycle. It was a temporary lapse of judgment.

​

My life was boring because I was dull. I never did anything new or went out of my comfort zone. But then again, the comfort zone was safe. The routine familiar.

​

The motorcycle roared to life, and my heart sunk. This one encounter that was entirely different than anything else I'd experienced in my life before was over.

​

He'd meet someone inside and have an amazing night with her. Whereas I'd go home to my grandmother's house and sip my tea.

​

I'd just reached my SUV when the man pulled his motorcycle in front of my vehicle. "Where are you going?"

​

Heat flooded my body at the sexy maneuver. "Home."

​

The motorcycle's engine continued to hum as he removed his helmet for a second time. "Is the party lame?"

​

"I'm tired, and it's getting late." Now I sounded like someone who had to rush home before it got dark.

​

"Are you Cinderella racing to beat the clock before you turn into a pumpkin?" His voice was low and smooth, and I couldn't help but smile at his princess reference, which was in direct contrast to his look.

​

"Something like that." But in my mind, I was turning over the possibilities. I could ask him if he wanted to get out of here, maybe take me for a ride on his motorcycle. But that wasn't the kind of girl I was. It was completely out of character, yet my heart was racing. I moved closer to him. "Did you have a better option?"

​

His lips quirked. "You want to go for a ride?"

​

There was a roaring in my ears, and it wasn't from his motorcycle. "I thought you'd never ask."

​

He handed me his helmet.

​

I glanced down at my skirt. "Can I ride in this?"

​

"Just gather it so it's not hanging down. You don't want it to get tangled."

​

I put on the helmet, secured the strap, and climbed on the back of the motorcycle. I gathered my skirt, pulling it higher so that it didn't drag on the ground. Then I wrapped my arms around his waist.

​

He touched my hands with his, and then said, "Are you ready for this?"

​

"I've been waiting my whole life for this," I said honestly.

​

He chuckled, and I felt the rumble more than I heard the sound, and he eased forward into the street, going slowly at first down the main thoroughfare.

​

I wanted to let go and throw my arms in the air because, for the first time in my life, I felt free. Free from my inheritance and running the family business.

​

But tonight, I did the unexpected thing. The dangerous thing. The one thing that could get me into trouble.