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“It’s about seeing a person’s true colours, and I see yours.” He was smiling as he stared deeply into my eyes.
“How’s that?” I pressed closer, loving the feeling of being held.
“You’re beautiful, and you want to be everything to everyone, but sometimes you need to be you to the outside world. I loved watching you dance; you were so unencumbered and free.”
I buried my face into his shirt. Damn, he smelled so good.
“Don’t be ashamed. It was magical.”
“Magical? I’ve never had my dancing called magical.” I wanted to smile, but a heartbeat of shame kept me from making the change.
“Fine, chaotic? Like someone having a spell? Is that better?” He was borderline laughing, and although it was directed at my wild dance moves, there was a warm current running through his tone. He wasn’t being mean; he had actually enjoyed watching me dance.
“No, I prefer the magical version.”
“I adored it. I adore you.” He stared into my eyes. “I’ve never quite met anyone like you before.”
“Really? Never?” There were a few thousand people in this town.
“Really.” His gaze danced between my eyes as we both stopped moving, although my heart rate climbed like I’d run a thousand stairs.
My breath caught in the back of my throat, and I stared into the depths of his dark blues.
“I’ve wanted to kiss you, you know, for quite some time now.”
I swallowed, my gaze following the movement of his lips. “You did?”
“Ever since you baked with me. But I wasn’t sure how to find the right moment.”
“This could be one.”
“It is.” And as if in slow motion, he inched closer, slowly, teasingly, almost with a borderline hesitation.
I pushed through the rest of the tiny distance and pressed my wanton lips onto his.
It was everything a kiss should be – delicate and soft, and warm and breathy.
He pulled back and looked down at me. “That was…”
My heart stopped beating for a fraction of a second as I waited for him to finish speaking.
“Amazing. I should’ve done it a long time ago.” Suddenly, a twinkle appeared in his eyes, lighting him up in a way it took years off him. “I like kissing you.”
“I like kissing you.”
It was then I knew I was in big, big trouble.
Chapter Fourteen
We kissed some more, until a couple walked by with plates of steamy food and tantalizing scents.
“That looked really good,” he said, as he followed them all the way to their spot. “Hungry?”
I slowly nodded. I was hungry for another taste of his pear beer-flavoured lips. “Sure, I can eat.”
“I don’t want to grab something you don’t like, since I know you have an aversion to chicken.”
How sweet he remembered, even if it wasn’t an aversion. It’s not that I didn’t like chicken, I just preferred mine well cooked, not bright pink and stuffed with salmonella.
