“Kiss me.”
Shock snapped through her like a live wire. “What?”
“You heard me,” he said, lower. “Kiss me.”
Her mouth parted, the air snagging somewhere between chest and lips.
He didn’t give her time to close it.
He kissed her—hard.
Demanding. His mouth claimed hers, firm and sure, the faint taste of beer and something wild, as his hand at her waist yanked her in, crushing her chest to his. The movement hitched her court skirt higher, and the sudden, rough friction of his denim jeans against her bare thigh sent a fresh jolt of electricity through her.
For a heartbeat, she went still, every nerve flaring white—then the pressure shifted. He eased just enough to breathe, his lips brushing hers again in a slow, deliberate pass, a softer drag over the sting he’d left. Her lips tingled, swollen and sensitive. Her heartbeat roared in her ears.
He started to pull back.
Somewhere above them, the mechanicalclackof a camera shutter sliced through the quiet—sharp, clinical, and permanent.
Her eyes were wide, pupils blown, something wild and bright burning there.
He didn’t hesitate.
He leaned in again, and this time, she met him halfway.
She grabbed his shirt in both hands, the cotton bunching in her fists as she hauled him down to her, her mouth crashing into his.
Fierce.
His response was immediate. His hand abandoned her waist, fingers tangling deep into the hair at the nape of her neck, a possessive, blunt grip that tilted her head back and anchored her to him. All the want and frustration they’d been holding back since the courthouse poured into the slide of his mouth on hers.
She rose onto her toes without thinking, chasing the heat, her bare leg pressing into the solid, unyielding line of his body. For a moment, she forgot where they were.
Just cold brick at her back, the weight of his hand in her hair, and the way her body kept answering yes.
He broke the kiss on a rough exhale, resting his forehead against hers for a beat.
“Look,” he said softly. His mouth brushed hers when he spoke. “This will blow over in a day or two. Don’t let them own it.”
She shook her head. “You don’t know that.”
“I know how cycles work.”
“You’re not worried?”
“About us?”
The word hung there—hotter than the kiss. He didn’t smile.
“No.”
That unsettled her more than everything that had come before.
Above them, the ghost tour guide’s voice drifted faintly through the night. “And some say the mountains remember…”
Reid stepped back a fraction. Giving her space. He took her in one last time, lips curving in something that wasn’t quite a smile.
“There’s some attention for you.”
