Chapter 11 #3
How would I go back to living my life on solid ground after he’d made me feel the heat of the sun and the wind on my face that only came from climbing to the treetops?
My fingers played with the edge of whatever it was in his breast pocket. “I’m not certain what I would think about kissing my fiancé.”
He placed his lips near my ear. “There is a very easy way to find out.”
I closed my eyes, letting his words glide over my skin.
It would be very easy indeed. I pushed myself away from the door and leaned into him but kept my head down, resting it on his shoulder.
Mama could leave the pianoforte and come find us at any moment, but I didn’t care.
We were supposed to be engaged, after all, and I needed a moment to think.
Did it matter? Did it matter if I kissed this man and let my heart believe there was a chance the two of us might fall in love with each other?
What would it change? I had no plans to marry.
I wasn’t going to leave Breckenridge and look for a husband.
I was going to find a position and work for the rest of my life. Did it matter if I fell in love first?
David’s deep-blue jacket was soft against my cheek. I took a deep breath, inhaling the warm, masculine scent of him. His arms and voice and everything about him made me feel protected and cared for.
And as much as I’d thought my dilemma was a hard one, in his arms, it melted away. Of course it would matter if I fell in love with him. Because if this was my one chance at love, even if it was one-sided and fleeting, I wanted it.
I lifted my face from his chest and put my free arm on his shoulder. His eyes searched mine, and I kept mine focused clearly on his so he would know my decision. He might have been teasing me, but I was going to take his teasing to heart.
I raised an eyebrow. “How many kisses exactly does stolen kisses imply?”
David’s eyes widened, and his breathing quickened under my hand. He searched my face for a moment, not smiling and not playing off my question with a jest, as I thought he might. Instead, he dropped his gaze to my lips, then back up to my eyes. He swallowed. “At least one more.”
I slid my hand from his shoulder to his neck. “And at most?”
His foot slid forward as if he needed to step closer to me, but I was already there, in his arms. He dropped my hand and wrapped both of his arms around my waist. The word infinite sang through the air around us as real as the music Julia was playing on the pianoforte.
But he didn’t say it, and neither did I.
“As many as you’ll give me, as long as you are my fiancée.”
“That feels very imprecise.” A wobble in my voice matched the slight tremor of his hands at my back. “How will you know when to cross it off your list?”
“I’ll cross it off when you tell me to and not a moment before.”
It wasn’t infinite. It wasn’t any more than he’d already given me.
Our engagement was never supposed to move forward into a marriage.
But what if it did? He leaned forward, and suddenly, my plan of being in love once in my life before resigning myself to spinsterhood felt a lot riskier than it had only a moment ago.
“David?”
His head was dipping toward mine. “Yes?”
“Would it be very terrible if I enjoy kissing you too much?”
He paused, even the tremors in his hands stilling. “What do you mean?”
I shook my head, cursing myself for being such a fool. “Nothing. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
But it was too late. David’s fingers no longer flexed into my lower back. He closed his eyes hard and cursed under his breath. A moment later, he released me and stepped away. “I’m sorry. I’ve been a cad.”
“No, you haven’t. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
His eyes hardened. “I want you to tell me what you are thinking, so please do not stop telling me. But I believe I got a bit too carried away in our game today, and I owe you an apology. I was very close to taking advantage of our agreement.”
No. No. No. He spun on his heel, but I stopped him, fisting my hand into his lapel. He froze, but he didn’t turn back around.
“You still owe me at least one kiss while we are engaged. One more was the minimum, remember?”
His chest rose and fell as he turned. His eyes were wary, watching me like I was a wild animal that would pounce on him at any moment, but he stepped forward.
He stopped mere inches away from me and slowly put a hand on my cheek. I forced my breathing to remain as normal as possible. His reaction to my fears had made one point very clear: If he thought I might be affected by his touch, he would run again.
“You’re right,” he said. “And I think the sooner I kiss you and cross that off our list, the better.” His thumb brushed my cheekbone, but he didn’t reach for my waist or pull me to him as he’d done before. Instead, his head inched toward mine almost reluctantly.
David Tate might have been interested in me at fourteen, but now that he was a man, he’d outgrown the idea.
A few lighthearted kisses in a corridor had been tempting to him, but one word about those kisses meaning something more and now a kiss was only a task to be checked off sooner rather than later.
He seemed unsure of his decision, even when his lips were only a breath away from mine. Any moment, he could step away and throw out his list. But he didn’t. With one last burst of decision, he closed the distance between us, and his lips gently landed on mine.
He was so very careful in his touch, but despite that, his kiss washed over me like an ocean wave I hadn’t seen coming.
A tide of wild emotion, nothing like friendship, crashed into my unsuspecting heart, welling up from that treacherous organ and overflowing to all my extremities.
My eyes fluttered closed, and I forced myself to memorize the softness of his mouth and the carefulness of his hand at the side of my cheek.
He was motionless, not moving, only allowing our lips to meet as carefully and painlessly as possible.
But that was not at all what I wanted. If he was only going to meet the minimum requirement of kisses, this would be my only one.
It might even be my only chance to experience kissing anyone, and while I didn’t need passion or love from him, I also didn’t want my one and only kiss to be merely perfunctory, not when it felt anything but perfunctory to me.
His hand slid slowly down my cheek, but it wasn’t because he was moving it to my neck; this was the beginning of the end, and I wasn’t ready. I leaned in to him, then reached up and pressed his hand back to my face, willing him to feel at least a small amount of the wonder that had overcome me.
He stopped pulling away.
He stopped breathing.
I took a step forward, and the movement awakened him.
He didn’t turn into a savage beast or a man who would take advantage of a woman he’d promised to help.
Despite what he’d said earlier, he was no cad.
But for the first time since his lips had made contact with mine, he started participating.
He awoke like the sun did each morning, with hints of delicate, nearly imperceptible beams promising more light to come.
His thumb pressed into my cheek, and he tipped his head first to one side, then the other, as if he were testing my lips for the best angle.
Then, as if neither side had come out the victor, he kissed me full on, bringing his other hand to my face and tipping my head this time.
Every movement was slow, careful, and soft. Protecting me, even in this.
I melted against him, letting my head fall where he coaxed it.
So, this was kissing.
I liked it.
I liked it enough that if I had any sense, I would pull away before I made it extremely obvious to David how much I was relishing his touch.
And I would.
Eventually.
For now, I ran one hand up his fine back and tangled my fingers into the hair at the base of his neck.
He inhaled sharply at my touch, and my other hand clenched his lapel tight enough to permanently ruin his jacket. How had I managed to spend twenty-five years of my life not kissing David? And how was I supposed to spend the rest of it the same way?
I had to stop and pretend that having his mouth on mine had not been life-altering and thank him for being a man of his word, as far as that list of his was concerned.
If I didn’t soon, we might not be able to remain friends.
I wouldn’t see him daily, and he might even change his mind about me living in his home.
I forced my grip on his lapel to relax, took a slow, steadying breath, and drew a picture in my mind of what the two of us must look like.
I traced the lines of us tucked together in a darkened corridor, his hands on my face, and my lips brushing over his, marking the parts of my gown that pressed against him, putting to memory this stolen moment.
I folded the picture and tucked it safely into my soul, a memory to unwrap whenever I wished. Then I pulled away.
I forced my eyes open only to find his were still closed.
His dark lashes were half-moons of shadows. I pressed my hand to my side to stop myself from running my fingertips over his eyes.
He was so still I thought he might be considering kissing me again.
But he took a long, steady breath and slowly opened his eyes.
He blinked at me once, his gaze taking in my mouth, my hair, and my mouth again.
His lips parted then closed, and swallowing hard, he turned away.
He didn’t open the door and return to the music room; instead, he strode away to some other part of the house, leaving me alone.
Not a word about crossing an item off his list, nor a funny quip that would set me at ease. He simply left.
I fell back against the door and raised my fingers to my lips, and since David wasn’t here to witness it, I allowed my lips to curve into a slow and steady smile.
Whatever happened in the future, kissing David had not been a mistake.