She bent slightly, scooping the map into her lap, then she traced her fingers over the smooth paper. Her voice broke low, becoming a breathy whisper.
“Well, there are a couple of different paths we can take.” She moved her finger over a line of mountains.
I tilted my head, the ends of her hair brushing my jaw. “You want to take the Ridge of No Return? It looks like it would drop us into the Gorge of Misfortune. That’s not my favorite kind of gorge.”
“No...” Marin drew out the word, elbowing me lightly in the ribs. “Those names are ridiculous.” She twisted in my hold to look at me, and the shift brought her mouth closer. Her breath ghosted over my cheek. I tried not to glance down, to skim the curve of her lips.
I failed. Hard.
“I think we should go south through the…” she paused, biting the edge of her lip while she came up with ridiculous names of her own. “Fields of Futile Escape, then straight through the Bog of Regret.”
My hand flexed at her waist. The neckline of her tunic dipped lower, sliding further down her shoulder. I swallowed a groan.
“That’s a tough call.” I managed, my voice rougher than it should have been. “Is there a River of Crushing Despair tocross, or is it all by land?”
Marin laughed; the warm sound washed over me like a wave. “The quickest way is through the bog. Plus, I don’t think I can do any more climbing, so the ridge and gorge are out.”
“Fair enough. The bog it is.” I cleared my throat. “We’ll head out in the morning after we talk with the innkeeper’s wife. See if we can get a little more intel first.”
Marin nodded, our plan set. But she didn’t move. A charged silence settled over us. The candles flickered, bathing her skin in gold, and the clean, fragrant scent of her hair filled my senses. Her thigh pressed against mine. She shifted, just a fraction, and the movement sent a jolt through me.
Without thinking, my thumb traced a slow path along the slipping neckline of her tunic. Back and forth. She tensed, then leaned subtly into the touch, her breath turning shallow.
The map slid off her lap. Her lips parted as her gaze held mine, and it was like everything just stopped.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” I asked thickly. “Is there a very orange sun behind me?”
Her lips twitched, but she tamed them. “No. Now it’s a very silver moon. But that’s not why I’m staring. I need to ask you a question, and you might hate me when I do.”
“I doubt that.”
Her expression softened, but the question still lingered in her eyes. One she forced herself to ask, squaring her jaw and inhaling a quick breath.
“Gavin?” Marin’s fingers bunched in the fabric of my sleeve as if she was steeling herself to finish. “Are we ever going to talk about that kiss by the vine?”
I went still. My mind emptied of coherent thought. I didn’t know how to answer, wasn’t sure which words to choose thatwouldn’t send me plummeting over the edge if she told me she’d hated it. That I never should have stooped so low.
She frowned. “Because we act like it never happened. And the truth is… I think about it all the time.”
“You do?” My throat was tight, but my chest was tighter. Her words made the ache of want inside me so heavy I couldn’t breathe.
Marin nodded.
“The thing is,” she continued, not waiting for me to answer. “I thought I could ignore it. But I don’t think I can. At least not until we decide what to do about it. So here’s what I think.” She swallowed hard. “We should flip for it.”
“What?” The sound barely escaped, and it was drowned out by the pulse thundering in my ears.
“We should let fate decide what happens next.” She licked her lips, and my breath stalled. “Tails: it was a terrible mistake. And we never mention it. Never even think about it. You go your way, I go mine.”
“And heads?”
“You kiss me again.”
Chapter 30
Marin
Now, who was playinggames? But a coin flip was a game I already knew how to win. He must've known it too, with the way his eyes darkened, arms tightening around me when I proposed the stakes.
