Page 117 of Property of Bob

But this was Ramona.

There were twenty years sitting between us, even if there had never been anything romantic back then. There was Clint. There was the reason she’d come here. There was the fact that two days ago I’d been lying in a hospital bed.

And there was the simple truth that once I kissed her, this changed. I didn’t want to pretend it wouldn’t. “Ramona.”

“What?”

“I want to kiss you.”

Her eyes widened just slightly.

I waited.

Her hand moved up and rested against my chest. “Okay.” That one word hit harder than it should have.

I leaned closer. Slowly.

Slow enough that she had plenty of time to change her mind. She didn’t.

Her eyes closed right before my mouth touched hers.

The first kiss was barely a kiss. Just my lips against hers. Soft and careful.

I wasn’t sure if I was being careful because of her or because my fucking throat still reminded me every few minutes that I’d almost died.

Maybe both.

I pulled back an inch and Ramona opened her eyes.

“That was timid,” she whispered.

I frowned. “Timid?”

“A little.”

“Are you complaining?”

“No.” Her fingers curled into my shirt. “Just surprised.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.” Her gaze dropped to my mouth again. “You don’t seem like a timid kisser.”

I almost laughed. Instead, I leaned closer. “Maybe I was making sure you wanted me to kiss you.”

Ramona swallowed. “I wanted you to kiss me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

I kissed her again. There wasn’t anything timid about the second one.

Ramona made a soft sound against my mouth as my hand slid deeper into her hair. Her fingers tightened in the front of my shirt, pulling me closer instead of pushing me away.

That was all the encouragement I needed.