Eunice recovers first. “Well, that’s nice to hear.” Then something sparks in her own eyes. Amusement, maybe, or a challenge. “Our friends from Sugar Maple meet us at the bar every Friday night for trivia. Can’t wait to see you two there.”
Kayla laughs. “I’ll be the one in face paint.”
“Pleasure seeing you both,” I say, giving them hugs. Kayla hesitates for half a second, then steps forward and hugs themboth, too. She’s stiff, but not cold. Like she’s still learning the dance but knows practice makes perfect.
We take our smoothies into my truck, where I open the door for Kayla. Once I’m next to her in the cab, she laughs and bumps her head into my shoulder.
“Did I just agree to wear face paint to trivia every Friday?”
“I think you did.”
“I’ve never worn face paint in my life.”
“Looks like we have another errand to run. Some honeymoon,” I tease.
She laughs against me again, and I don’t know if it’s the possibility that we might be watched or if it’s because it’s the most natural thing in the world, but I put an arm around her and plant a kiss on top of her head.
“You know, we haven’t kissed yet today,” she says.
“Is that an offer?”
“Just a statement.”
Before I can talk myself out of it, I put my finger under her chin and tip her face up to mine.
And I put my lips on hers.
Soft, warm, and so inviting, I almost think she could want this as much as I do.
I pull her lip into my mouth, grateful for this ruse. For this marriage.
Because I could never be this bold without it.
I’ve been halfway smitten by Kayla Carville from almost the moment we met. Definitely from the moment I found out she broke up with Aldridge. I saw her at that Lucy Jane concert a couple of months ago—my brother was playing with LJ, after all.
But I talked myself out of talking to her. Instead, I watched her from the other side of the VIP section, wishing I were the kind of guy who could go after the girl. The kind of guy who played offense, for a change.
If she hadn’t kissed me last week, where would we be now? I’d be watching her pack up and leave town without ever having the courage to ask her to stay.
I still can’t believe I asked her to marry me.
I still can’t believe she said yes.
My hand is on her cheek and my mouth is still on hers, and something in the kiss shifts, like our mouths have found a rhythm and neither of us wants it to stop.
Her fingers on my cheeks stroke my beard. I used to hate how Serena touched my beard. She’d always go against the grain.
But Kayla instinctively moves her fingers with it, smoothing my beard down, almost like a massage. It’s better than someone playing with my hair.
I slide my hand down her back, and suddenly it’s not enough. Just kissing this woman isn’t enough.
And that’s why I force myself to stop.
I pull back, and her eyes fly open, wild and unfocused and …
Hungry.
Her cheeks redden, but she doesn’t hide her face. “Well. There’s our kiss for the day.”
