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She glanced up and saw his eyes watching her as she slowly worked off the mask, piece by piece, trying not to pull any of the growth off his cheeks, and was glad she avoided putting it on his chin. That would have been terribly painful.
“May I?” he said softly, touching her chin and lifting the corner of her mask.
Mary nodded, wincing as it lifted slowly as they both concentrated on removing this disaster. What had she been thinking? She literally had assaulted her date in order to be able to tell if she could trust him?
He was soooo going to be done with her – and she couldn’t blame him. Dates are supposed to be romantic, full of tension, and building towards something sensual between a couple… not this.
Never this.
“I’m so sorry,” she whispered nervously, feeling her throat close as she realized that she might have ruined anything that could have ever happened with this sweet man, by being the least romantic person in the world.
“What are you apologizing for?”
“This… mess,” she sighed emotionally, causing her breath to shudder. “I should have never even suggested any of this and…”
“Mary…”
“This isn’t what a date is supposed to be,” she continued hoarsely, avoiding his eyes as she removed the remaining bits of mask with the warm wash rag, feeling guilty at the pink, splotchy skin.
“What are dates supposed to be to you then?” he questioned softly.
“They are supposed to be a chance to know each other better, slightly romantic, where it leaves the other person wanting to see them again – and sometimes it’s full of tension or longing… you know?”
He drew in his breath and didn’t speak – and she couldn’t look at him as she put the rag down on the sink, reaching up to finish ripping off the remnants of her mask painfully, needing the hurt to match what was in her heart right now.
“Just because there weren’t any candles or a fancy dinner, doesn’t mean that this couldn’t be romantic… because I am here with you,” he began, his voice thick and hesitant. “Do you not want to see me again? Is there no tension or longing for you when you are with me?”
Mary looked up at him – and saw the open yearning in his dark eyes as he gazed at her. Neither spoke for a moment… and when Jax finally did, his voice was ever so careful.
“I thought today, this evening, was one of the best moments in my life, despite it all… and I would do all of this again and again, just to see you smile at me,” he admitted openly, keeping his voice neutral. “But I know you have a past. I know you are scared; however, if I’m not the one you could imagine kissing, talking to, or being close to?” he paused before continuing. “Then it’s okay to be friends, but I don’t ever want to make you feel uncomfortable around me.”
“I’m not,” she confessed in a tiny voice.
“Did you feel anything when you kissed me?”
Those soft, low words spoken in the faintest whisper was her undoing, as she looked up at him again, falling into those beautiful eyes.
Without answering, he slowly lowered his head towards hers… and waited. His breath was warm against her lips, and this was so completely different than the simple kiss she’d bestowed on him when they were sitting on the couch. That was the kiss of a friend… whereas she knew she was about to be kissed as a lover – if she didn’t fight it.
“I will never hurt you, Mary…” he breathed, and she felt her own breath coming in small gasps as his hand came to rest on her lower back, urging her closer to him.
“Aren’t you scared?”
“Terrified,” he confessed softly. “Because you could break my heart.”
Her eyes closed of their own accord as she felt herself responding to him being so close. Her hands were trembling as one reached up to touch the back of his neck, while the other was firmly against the counter, trying to keep from collapsing in his arms.
Then, as if drawn by magic, she felt herself move slightly, her nose brushing against his, so close to him and yet still so far away. She felt him tremble as he waited, giving her all the space that she needed, letting her take the reins.
He could have just kissed her ten times over… but that wasn’t him.
“If you don’t feel something…”
“God help me… I do,” she breathed softly against his skin, lost in the moment as they stood there, waiting.
“May I…” he began, his nose brushing against her cheek, his breath caressing her jaw, and nearly torturing her in the most bittersweet way that a man could.
Mary blindly reached for him, closing the space between them as she pressed her lips to his, needing this. It took less than a second for him to respond as he kissed her deeply, his hand pressed her to him, holding her in his arms, almost like a hug.
