Looking down, she said, “We haven’t even kissed.”
“We could rectify that now.”
She hesitated as she brought her gaze back up. “What if it feels… strange? Like kissing my brother?”
“Do you often kiss your brother?”
“Of course not. It’s just an expression.”
“Then allow me to offer you a new one. What if you kiss me, and everything changes? I do tend to have that effect.”
She bit her lip before admitting, “I kissed Lord Harwood once. It was… underwhelming.”
“Excellent,” Evander replied. “That sets the standard very low. I’ve only to clear a small hurdle.”
“You’re not bothered by it?”
He shook his head. “Why should I be? Unless…” His expression sobered. “Do you still love him?”
Her spine straightened. “No. I see now that it was never love. He used me and discarded me.”
Evander reached up, brushing a stray curl behind her ear. “You deserve better than that.”
“I know,” she said softly. “But then I ran off and eloped to Gretna Green?—”
He cut her off. “That’s in the past. Let it stay there. Stop punishing yourself for mistakes already paid for.”
She looked at him, her heart aching in a strange, tender way. “You truly believe we could be happy?”
“I know we can,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Olivia tilted her head, her brow furrowing softly. “How can you be so certain?”
Evander shifted on the bench, turning to face her more fully. The gravel crunched lightly beneath his boot as he angled himself closer, their knees now just inches apart. The moonlight cast a gentle glow across his features, emphasizing the quiet determination in his expression.
“What is the foundation of any good marriage?” he asked.
She considered the question. “Friendship?”
A small smile curved his lips. “Precisely. And we have that. In abundance.”
She couldn’t argue. They had shared secrets, scraped knees, laughter and heartache, books and biscuits since childhood. If any match could be founded on companionship, surely it was theirs.
He leaned in slightly. “And it certainly doesn’t hurt,” he added, “that we are both ridiculously attractive.”
A laugh caught in her throat, though it never quite escaped. Her heart fluttered in a way it never had before, not even during her most dramatic moments with Lord Harwood. She had neverbeen this close to Evander, not like this. Not with the weight of a kiss hanging between them. There was an intensity in his gaze that made her pulse race.
She swallowed, her voice caught somewhere between breathlessness and disbelief.
Evander’s eyes flicked to her lips, then back to her eyes. The warmth of his breath brushed her cheek. “May I kiss you?”
“You may,” she whispered.
For a long, suspended moment, they simply stared at one another, the gardens around them utterly still. Then, slowly, Evander closed the gap.
And then, at last, their lips met.
It was soft at first, tentative. A question rather than a declaration.
