Everything about him—his stance, his mouth half-opened and ready to ask a million questions she didn’t have the answers to—told her he wanted to talk about what just happened between them. The kiss. Well. The almost-kiss. The kiss she desperately wanted. The kiss whose absence tingled on her lips. She could only hope everything about her told him not to push his luck.

“Yeah. Yeah.” His head dipped in disappointment as he dipped out of the room. “Sounds good. Let me get my coat.”

Ten minutes later, they sat next to each other in the front seat of the car. The GPS gave muted directions to Clark, who had to navigate by headlights because the back forty didn’t have any lights to speak of.

“Do you know where we’re going?” he asked, scrunching his face as he tried to see further ahead of them than the light would allow.

She shrugged and leaned into the impossibly comfortable seats of Clark’s car. They needed to get there soon. Any longer in this quiet, dark, comfortable seat and she’d definitely be asleep.

“I don’t know. Maybe they’re having a bonfire or something.”

“On my property? Without my permission?”

“I can’t think of anything else they could be doing. It’s a big, empty field.”

Kate kept her arms firmly tightened across her chest and her eyes anywhere but Clark’s direction. Pretending to be endlessly fascinated by the dark blurs passing them outside wasn’t easy. It was, however, necessary. She didn’t have the time to parse out her feelings about her impulsive desire to kiss him. She’d only come here to make him fall in love with Christmas and her town, not to make her fall in love with him.

“Maybe Santa’s real and he’s coming to personally give us our presents,” Clark joked.

“Or maybe there’s a freak snowstorm and we’ll get to have a snowball fight.”

“Snow in Texas? Better chance of Santa coming to town.”

Another stretch of silence met those words as Kate didn’t know what else to say. The only words she could come up with were: I really like you and I want to kiss you, but I don’t think it’s a good idea because you’re trying to destroy my town and maybe liking you means I won’t mind if you do. I have to love my town more than I love you or I’ll lose everything.

An impulse moved her hand to the dark radio. Some music would distract them both. She almost pressed the power button before remembering his stern words against Christmas music this morning. They’d ridden in silence all the way through Miller’s Point because he hated it; she didn’t need to invite more conversation or conflict with a stupid choice.

“What’s up?” he asked, when her hand retracted.