Page 54 of Poet & Protector

His touch was incredibly light. I could barely feel it, but even the slight pressure of his fingertips against my chest through the fabric of my shirt made me tremble. If Nev noticed, he didn’t show it. He simply continued to run his fingers along the hem.

“It’s like you go to an actual haberdashery to buy your clothes,” he said with a snort. “And you call me a snob.”

“There aren’t any haberdasheries in Vail,” I shot back.

He pressed his lips together, as if he was trying not to laugh, because why would I know there weren’t haberdasheries in Vail if I didn’t want to shop at one. He had me there. I’d found one in Denver that I ordered most of my clothes from.

“Like your hat couldn’t be from a haberdashery,” I groused. It wasn’t a brilliant comeback, but it was the best I could muster.

“My hat is from a thrift store,” Nev said. “And we’re not talking about my hat. We’re talking about your vests.”

“Fine.” I rolled my eyes. “You hate my vests, and for reasons I don’t care to understand, you have something against haberdasheries.”

“If you didn’t get them from a haberdashery they wouldn’t fit you so goddamn well,” he grumbled. “You have them tailored, don’t you?”

“I…” This was taking a strange turn. Nev noticed how my vests fit? “Yes. They’re tailored. Um…why are we talking about that?”

“I knew it,” he continued, ignoring my question. “They fit you like a glove.”

What??? What is happening right now?

All I could do was stare at him as he continued to muse over my wardrobe.

“I wonder what fabrics they’re made of,” he said. “What they feel like. I wonder about the buttons.”

“The buttons.” My body went taut as I became aware of a new scent filtering through Nev’s many layers of paper, ink, varnished wood, steel guitar strings, and river stones. A warm spice like cardamom. Desire.

“I can’t stop thinking about how tricky they are to unfasten.” His voice roughened and dropped to a murmur. “Do they slip free easily or would I need to work at it?”

My throat tightened and I had to swallow hard as the implications of his words sank in. The heady scent of mutual lust swirled around us.

He lifted his eyes to mine. “You have no idea how annoying it is that I can’t stop thinking about those buttons.”

“So, my vests and your hat are the real problem,” I said, a quiet rasp.

“Seems like it.” He nodded and a smile chased across his lips. “But I’m not going to stop wearing my hat.”

“I’m not going to stop wearing my vests.”

“What do we do?”

My gaze searched his face, my heart pounding, fear and want vying for control of my mind until, at last, I knew what had to happen.

Closing the small distance that remained between us, I wrapped my hand around the nape of his neck and drew his face to mine. “I think we do this.”

I wasn’t sure where my reckless courage came from, I only knew that I wanted to kiss him. Needed to. Nothing less was acceptable.

When our lips met, I heard and felt Nev’s quick gasp of surprise, and I was terrified I’d read the whole scene wrong. But a heartbeat later his hands cupped my face, tilting my head to the angle he wanted. He licked into my mouth and I thought I would die.

This was my first kiss. My first anything. Yet nothing about it was awkward or strange.

Nev tasted like cool spring water and wild strawberries. It was a taste I knew I’d crave every moment of every day. He was everything I wanted. The answer to a question I hadn’t known I needed to ask. That awareness, that recognition was so powerful, it was staggering.

A single word swirled through my mind, commanding my body.

More.

I wanted more. I wanted everything. And I only wanted it from him.