Page 169 of Pumpkin Spice Promises

Her fingers curled into the front of my shirt, pulling me closer. I leaned farther over the fence wishing it wasn’t in the way.

The second kiss wasn’t tentative anymore.

Her lips moved against mine, and I let my thumb slide along her jaw while her hand tightened against my chest.

God.

I’d imagined kissing her, too many times. None of those versions had included a fence digging into my ribs.

But it didn’t matter, I’d stay bent over the damn thing all night.

Carson pulled back first, out of breath, cheeks flushed, eyes glowing with excitement. She rested her forehead against mine over the fence.

For several seconds, neither of us spoke.

“Hi,” I murmured.

She laughed softly. “Hi.” Her hand still held my shirt. I wanted another kiss, but knew I’d be pushing my luck.

Carson opened her eyes and something had changed in them. The warmth was still there, but there was something else swirling in her green depths.

Fear.

It happened fast. One second, she was close enough that her breath touched my mouth. The next, her fingers loosened from my shirt and her body shifted backward.

I dropped my hand immediately scared she was going to end this, whatever this was before it even started it.

“I should clean up.” Carson looked toward the ranch. There was almost nothing left to clean, but I didn’t argue with her, knowing her well enough to know she needed space.

“Okay.”

She moved away from the fence. I watched her walk toward the equipment barn. The hitch in her step was more pronounced now. I didn’t mention it, nor did I follow, even though everything in me wanted too.

I wanted to ask what happened. Ask if I’d done something. Tell her I wasn’t expecting anything else.

Instead, I stayed where I was.

Because the kiss hadn’t been the problem. I knew that much. She had kissed me. Carson had chosen it.

I looked toward the barn where she had disappeared inside. For the first time since meeting her, I wondered if the thing Carson was afraid of wasn’t falling for me.

Maybe she was afraid of what would happen if I fell for her too.

I gave her ten minutes, keeping myself busy by gathering empty water bottles and folding two tarps nobody had bothered putting away.

When Carson came back outside, she had recovered, her usual mask back in place. She carried a box of extension cords. I took it from her without asking, and she let me.

We worked side by side. No discussion about the kiss. I wasn’t about to make her explain why she’d needed distance afterward.

Then eventually, Carson spoke. “You’re not going to say anything?”

“About?” I looked toward her.

Her eyes narrowed. “Seriously?”

I coiled an extension cord. “We kissed,” I said, still looking at her. “Enthusiastically,” I added.

That got the reaction I wanted. Her cheeks went pink. “You’re annoying.”