Page 35 of Hunted in Hope Town

Well, maybe she would, if he’d treat her like the woman she’d once been. Still, she understood this was…complicated. Or at least, she tried to make herself understand. This wasn’t just about her. He had feelings and memories and issues hung up in this too.

“I know it’s asking a lot. Because you remember and I don’t. I might not respond the way you’re used to, and that might hurt. I don’t want to hurt you, but I need… It’s just all so close, when it wasn’t before.”

Except…wasn’t it? She’d been fascinated by Ellis. A little scared of him, but there’d been a pull there—the pull had scared her. She’d turned away from it. Anything that had felt like the answer to all her questions.

She hadn’t been ready for them. She didn’t fully understand what had changed to make her ready, but she felt ready. Maybe it was as simple as a threat, wanting to feel…prepared for it. Maybe because now she had a framework for her feelings—for him, for them. Now she had a reason for the things she’d felt.

And she wanted to remember what it was. All of it.

“I can’t just kiss you.” He sounded strangled.

“Why not? We’ve done a whole lot more than kiss if we were together for so many years.”

He made a choking kind of sound that left her feeling emboldened.

“Yes, and I remember all that,” he said, very firm and stern. “You don’t.”

“Maybe I will if you just kiss me.”

He made a scoffing noise. Not mean, just exasperated. “You did always love a fairy tale, but that’s not how life works.”

She supposed if she remembered loving fairy tales that might sting. As it was, she saw right through him. “Then why are you so afraid to try it?”

He sighed, raked a hand through his hair, leaving it messy. There was the tiniest glint of a silver strand or two amidst the dark blond. She reached out to touch it.

It felt…nice. The bristles against her fingertips, this pocket of air they were sharing warmed by his body heat. There was even something strangely nice or familiar or something about the suspicious way he regarded her while holding himself very still.

Touching him was nice, but he clearly wasn’t going to touch her back. She didn’t think this worked without his participation, without it being in some way like it had once been. She needed him to…touch her, to something.

So she lifted his hands, pressed his palms to her cheeks. She didn’t miss the look of pain that crossed his face. She felt badly for putting it there, but she…she wanted to know what this felt like. It wasn’t just that she thought maybe it would unlock something her brain was hiding from her.

She just wanted to. Which had to be tied up in memory, even if it wasn’t clear in her brain.

“Just kiss me, Ellis.”

He was so still, she thought maybe there was no way to demand this of him. But then he muttered an irritable “Fine,” and he dropped his mouth to hers.

Lips touched. Gingerly. She doubted he’d ever kissed her like that before. Maybe she didn’t know everything about him, or the man he’d been when they first met, but he did not strike her as the kind of man who did things gingerly.

She tried to soften it, soften against him, even while holding him there by keeping her hands over his on her cheeks. He was stiff. Not awkward, exactly, but like he was hiding himself behind a very carefully erected shell.

She sighed against it, against him, wished there was some way to breech what lay beyond. Because she was sure there were memories there. She was certain.

There was a moment, just the briefest second, where she felt a slight relaxing in him. A moment where he was just about to give in to it all.

Then he tensed, pulled back. He did keep his hands on her face, but maybe that’s because she was holding them there.

She blinked her eyes open, looked into the pain in his hazel ones.

There was definitely a reaction in her body to that kiss, even if it had been…careful. But memories? No wave of concrete something. No sudden deck of memories to sort through. Just the same out-of-reach feeling. And a throb deep within. A need.

One she wouldn’t mind exploring with or without memories. But even she could acknowledge that required not being the target of some kind of threat.

Probably.

“You don’t remember anything.” He said it gently, like he was letting her down easy.

But she had the sneaking suspicion he was letting himself down easy. So she kept her hands where they were, holding his against her cheeks. She stayed there in this little bubble of his body heat and just let herself…absorb it all.