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Maybe ever.
He pulled away and she sucked in a breath. They were both panting. His lips were wet and his cheeks were flushed.
His eyes were hot and filled with all the things she wanted, too. Her mind stuttered back into gear, expecting that he’d walk her to her door, ask to come in, and they’d continue that kiss in her tiny living room.
Maybe even in her bed.
But he didn’t. He gripped her hands gently, pulling them from around his neck to his lips, where he kissed one hand, then the other.
“Good night, Kit,” he said hoarsely.
She stared up at him. “What? You’re leaving? Now?”
“I am.” He lifted one brow. “I don’t put out on the first date.”
She stared for several heartbeats, then began to laugh. “What?”
He still held her hands. Kissing them one last time, he released them. “I want more with you than one night. Call me. This date was because of my bet. Next time, it’s your turn to ask me out on a date. No bet involved.”
She blinked a few times. “Where? When?”
“You choose. I’ll be waiting.”
Then he turned and walked down the pier toward where he’d parked his RAV4. Just before he would have turned the corner, he looked back and waved.
Fingertips of one hand pressed to her lips, she waved back automatically and watched him disappear out of her sight.
Wow.
She stepped onto her boat’s deck, her feet almost floating, her heart still beating out of rhythm. Her body tingled. All over.
Wow.
She went down the short flight of stairs to her door and, hands trembling, she managed to unlock it.
Snickerdoodle leapt from the bed, bounding over to greet her, tail wagging. Muscle memory kicked in, and Kit grabbed Snick’s leash and led her out onto the pier for her walk.
Kit had a lot to think about.
Next time. Six months ago, she’d sent Sam away. Now her mind was churning with thoughts of next time. What did he like? Where would he want to go?
How could she make him smile? Make his green eyes crinkle behind those nerdy glasses that she now just wanted to take off?
And then she knew what she needed to do.
Shelter Island Marina, San Diego, California
Tuesday, November 22, 5:05 p.m.
Sam rested his head on the steering wheel of his RAV4, his hands clenched and his body shaking. Walking away from Kit McKittrick had been the hardest thing he’d ever done. His body ached with how tightly he’d held himself.
He’d kissed her. Finally.
She’d kissed him first. Thank God. He almost hadn’t been able to make himself wait, but he was so glad that he had.
He had to chuckle, remembering her stunned expression when he told her that he didn’t put out on the first date. Not that he’d had too many of those. Kit was his fifth first date.
He didn’t date often, wasn’t one for hookups. He wanted a relationship. He wanted everything.
