Page 168 of Pumpkin Spice Promises

“Maybe I like looking at you.”

The words made her breathing change.

Her chin lifted. “Does that line usually work for you?”

“Wasn’t a line.”

“Sounds like one.”

“I’m not that creative.”

Her mouth curved into a small smile, the one I’d come to love about her. I wanted to kiss it. I had wanted to since the first afternoon she walked into my shop soaked to the bone and glaring at me because I had the nerve to suggest walking two miles through a thunderstorm was a bad idea.

But wanting Carson and having Carson were becoming two different things. She had edges. Invisible boundaries. Things I didn’t understand. Every time I thought she’d moved closer, something scared her, and she stepped back.

I was done pretending I hadn’t noticed. But I also wasn’t going to corner her into explaining herself.

So I released her hand. Carson looked at it in disappointment while I walked toward the old section of fence beneath the oak. “We should check the lights on this side.”

She followed quietly.

The section had become one of my favorite places on the ranch, because it was James’s spot.

Carson had told me that the first weekend we worked here. From the fence, you could see almost everything. Tonight, the view was better.

The ranch stretched below us in warm orange light. Carson leaned her forearms on the top rail. I stood beside her, taking in the view before us; it was something out of a movie and incredibly hard to believe.

A breeze moved through the pasture. Her hair blew across her cheek, she automatically pushed it away, but it fell back.

The wind moved it across her face again. This time I reached for it. My fingers brushed her cheek.

She went deadly still, green eyes widening in surprise at my touch. I tucked the strand behind her ear.

My hand should’ve dropped, but it didn’t. My fingers stayed against the side of her face.

Her eyes stayed on mine.

Tonight, there was no mechanical witch, not a soul in sight to witness this moment or ruin it.

It was just Carson and I.

And a fence between us because she had ended up on the other side while checking the bulbs.

I hadn’t noticed until now that the top rail came between our bodies. My thumb moved once across her cheek. Her lips parted on a soft sigh, and I leaned slightly closer, desperate to close the distance between us.

Carson’s eyes searched mine. I could have closed the distance in a second, God knew I wanted to, but I needed her to know she could stop this.

More importantly, I needed to know she wasn’t simply letting it happen.

So I stayed there, close enough to feel her breath, but far enough that she could pull back.

Her eyes dropped to my mouth. She moved first, just enough to close the last inch of space between us, and her lips touched mine. Everything about her was soft, tentative, and cautious, like she was scared to let herself enjoy this.

Every thought in my head disappeared. I kept one hand against her cheek, and kissed her the way she’d kissed me.

Slow.

Then Carson made the smallest sound against my mouth, and something inside me nearly snapped.