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Finally, she pulls her head away and touches my lips. “That didn’t feel wrong.”
“No.” I move her fingers and attempt to catch her mouth with mine again but she steps back, unwinding my hands from her waist.
“Ella.” Cerys tips her head to the bed.
“She’s asleep,” I whisper.
“I don’t want her to see me kissing someone who isn’t her dad.”
I cringe at the reality. Okay, Cerys isn’t married but five years is a long relationship; longer than any I’ve had. I rub my thumb across her cheek. “I want to take you out, to somewhere Ella can’t see us kiss.”
“I don’t think that’s realistic, Liam,” she says quietly.
The fuzzy, happy feeling retreats as quickly as it came. “Why?”
“A few reasons, Liam. Think about the situation.”
How can she snap back to logic this easily? “So the kisswaswrong?”
The sound of the front door opening shifts our focus and Mum calls a greeting upstairs. With the first family member home for the evening, I know this is the end of our conversation and whatever happened here. The doorway we stand in faces the top of the stairs. Downstairs, Mum hangs her coat, and before she turns I reluctantly move away from Cerys.
Ella isn’t the only one we don’t want aware of our kiss.
