“It would feel like infanticide,” he says, with a slight smile.
I shove him, my hand clinging to his shirt. He sets his hand over it and lifts his eyebrows. “We could buy one from the store and pretend.”
I let my hand drift up the length of his shirt, and he swallows.
“Or I could eat a different apple.” I lean in and lightly bite his Adam’s apple.
I feel the vibration of his groan. “Nora. You’re killing me.”
“Kiss me.”
He backs me up to the trunk of the small tree, the leaves brushing my hair, the heady scents of earthy greenery and apples and Cormac all around me. Then he removes his glasses and tucks them into his pocket—a gesture I never realized couldbe this hot—before lowering his head and brushing his lips over mine.
That first kiss is so gentle I gasp. But the second my mouth opens, his tongue finds mine, and suddenly I need the tree against my back. My hands lift to his hair, and his glossy chestnut curls tumble through my fingers as he pulls me closer with a hand at my back. We keep kissing like we don’t know how to stop, and it feels indescribably good. Almost like we’re reclaiming something lost.
I slide my hand beneath the hem of his shirt, needing to feel the heat of him under my palm. He sucks in a breath and then his hand eases up the back of my shirt too, his fingers brushing my flesh before digging in slightly as he tugs me closer.
He whispers my name against my lips and kisses me again and again.
“Well, you definitely don’t need any kissing lessons.”
He gives me a rueful look. “Is that what you thought you were doing, Nora? Helping me be a better kisser for another woman?”
I bite his bottom lip, and he laughs before tipping my head back and claiming my mouth again.
We hear the footsteps moving through the brush at the same time, and he pulls away, his hair an absolute disaster that makes me grin.
A couple of minutes later, a middle-aged couple passes us, the woman giving us a knowing look.
“Hello there,” Cormac says. “Pretty warm out here, huh?”
I bite my tongue to keep from laughing as they nod and continue past us.
“You think they knew anything was up?” he murmurs.
“Oh, absolutely.” I turn toward him and run my fingers along the hem of his shirt. “Now, come on, we’ve got to get to the bench before they do.”
“What bench?” he asks, but I’m already running, laughing, and he starts running with me. “Come on, Nora! I can’t see. Everything’s blurry.”
I’m still smiling as we pass the bewildered-looking couple and continue up the gravel path winding up the hill.Please let no one be there. Please let no one be there…
We crest the hill, reaching the top, and there it is, like magic—the bench on the hill, empty and waiting. The mountains roll out to either side, breathtaking and mysteriously blue, despite being lined with furry green foliage and trees. The sun has started its descent in earnest, and layers of orange and pink hug the mountains.
“The view,” Cormac says.
“The view,” I agree with a smile as I reach into his pocket and retrieve his glasses. I unfold them and settle them on the bridge of his nose, his eyes holding mine the whole time, even though one of the best views WNC has to offer is laid out before him.
We sit side by side on the bench. He wraps his arm around my shoulders, and I lean against him. “You made me think of it when you mentioned the Mountain High Marathon.”
He angles his head to peer at me. “So, I finally get to do the Mountain High Marathon. Lucky me.”
“Nah, that would definitely be cheating. And you don’t strike me as a cheater.”
“Does this mean we have to trespass at the high school?” he asks, leaning in, his hair brushing my face. “Because I accept.”
“Cormac takes things too far,” I murmur against his cheek, and he surprises me by wrapping both of his broad hands around my waist and lifting me onto his lap.
“I think I’d like to,” he says. “You’ve always made me want to.”
