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“Hmph.” She folded her arms, hunched her shoulders, and stuck out her bottom lip. “We should move somewhere new, where the horses can live.”
“Maybe one day. We’ll talk about it again when you’re older.”
Izzy didn’t like that answer. She sulked during their stroll back through the Glamping Ground, ignoring all of Bex’s attempts to draw her out or interest her in something else.
“Is this the crash?” Michael asked softly.
“Yeah, she gets moody and then she gets sleepy. Just wait.”
She was right. By the time they’d driven back to the town square and parked outside the apartment, Izzy was napping, her mouth hanging open, drool drying on her cheek.
“I’ll carry her in,” Michael offered.
“I’ve got her.” Bex didn’t seem inclined to argue, so he helped her drape the sleeping girl over her shoulder and escorted them to the door, carrying their bags. Bex didn’t struggle as she hefted Izzy into the apartment, making him wonder how often this happened. She unlocked the door and instructed Michael to wait while she put Izzy to bed. He placed the bags just inside the entrance and leaned against the doorway, once again studying the interior of the cozy apartment and wishing he could put his finger on exactly what it was that made it so homey.
When Bex returned, she ushered him outside and closed the door behind them, then she looked up at him, her eyes full of confusion and uncertainty. He wanted to wipe that expression from her face.
“I had a wonderful time,” he said. “Thank you for inviting me.”
Her lips pressed together. “Yeah, well, you didn’t give me much choice, did you?”
“Nevertheless, I’m grateful.”
She sighed, and rubbed her temples. “Sorry for being snarky. Izzy seemed quite taken with you, and you handled her well.”
He stuffed his hands into his pockets because the other option was to rub her shoulders to ease the tension from her forehead, and he didn’t think she’d appreciate that. “Do I pass the test?” he asked. “Can I see you and Izzy again?”
He found himself holding his breath. He desperately wanted her to say yes, and not just for Wesley’s sake.
“I suppose that would be okay.” She leaned against the wall and looked up at him from beneath dark lashes. “Perhaps you could come around for brunch tomorrow? It’s a Sunday tradition.”
“I’d love that.” This time, he’d bring something other than cupcakes to prove to Bex that he knew how to behave responsibly with children.
“Good.” She shifted her weight, and it was only now that he noticed how close they were, with their bodies almost brushing. Had he crowded her against the wall, or had she encroached on his space? He couldn’t remember. But then, with so little separating them, he could scarcely think at all.
His gaze dropped to her lips. Those full lips he’d imagined kissing a thousand times.
“Thank you for a wonderful day. I’d better get going.”
“Yes, you should.”
He didn’t move, and nor did she. Her pupils were massive in the dimness of the foyer, and they raked over him from toe to face, settling on his mouth. Was she having the same thoughts as him? She pressed her lips together, then they parted on a soft sigh that sent his blood rushing south. What would she do if he touched her? Would she push him away?
Slowly, ever so slowly, he reached out and stroked the back of a single finger down the side of her face. Her eyelids fluttered shut and her breath released on a whoosh. His trembling hand slid around the back of her neck, cupping her head, and he dipped his lips to hers, pausing an inch away. When she didn’t recoil, he kissed her. Her lips were every bit as gloriously soft as he’d dreamed. She tasted of the mint chocolates she’d eaten at the fair, and smelled like vanilla beans. She was incredible.
When her tongue darted out and flicked along the seam of his mouth, he gasped in surprise, and his insides went gooey. He was amazed his legs didn’t fold beneath him. He gladly let her in, tasting her more deeply, pressing closer, curving his free hand around her hip and caressing a strip of bare skin at her lower back.
Alarms blared in his mind, telling him to stop, flashing with big red warning signs, but he couldn’t seem to do anything other than kiss her. His mouth was fused to hers, only separating to drag in air before he passed out, then returning to the most all-consuming lip-lock of his life. Then her hand was on his chest, gently pushing him back, and he stumbled away, righting himself and staring at her as he struggled to catch his breath.
Her breathing was as ragged and uneven as his, her lips swollen from their kisses, and her eyes glazed by passion, but she shook her head vigorously, as if to shake cobwebs off her brain, and cleared her throat.
“Wow,” she said, voice husky. “That was… unexpected.”
“I’m sorry.” Had he screwed everything up?
“Don’t be.” She smiled. “No one has kissed me like that, in, well…” She laughed. “Maybe ever.” Her palm, still against his chest, rubbed in small circles that seared him through his clothes. “But you should definitely go now.” She gave him a little push. “Goodbye, Michael.”
“Goodbye, Bex.”
