Chapter 23 #2
“We dated a few times. We only kissed once, and that was before meeting you this summer. But when Lucinda accused me of fumbling the Norland Park deal because I had a thing for you—which I definitely do—” I savor his words even as I try to maintain a neutral expression.
“Anyway, I didn’t want to drag you into that whole thing, so I exaggerated my relationship with Caroline and called her my girlfriend.
But we were never anything official. Still, she is why I didn’t kiss you at the cove—when I really wanted to.
” With each one of these flattering admissions, Edward chips away at my resistance.
“I couldn’t kiss you without formally ending things with Caroline, even if we weren’t a couple. I couldn’t do that to either of you.”
“Well . . . I guess that’s something,” I say begrudgingly. His reasons make sense, but I’m still resisting. Can I really trust this man? Do I even want to? I already know the answer to the second question. It’s a big, fat yes.
A gust of wind blows a cold drizzle onto my face.
The rain has picked up with the wind blowing in from the ocean.
Edward shifts his body so that he is blocking me from the blast. “Look at you.” He places a hand on my damp cheek.
“You’re freezing. You’re not dressed for this weather.
” He removes his coat and puts it on me.
I don’t protest. I am cold, and his warm wool jacket feels divine.
“Better?” he asks.
“Mm-hmm,” I say, snuggling into the fabric and breathing in the heady scent of Edward’s cologne.
The sky flashes with light, followed by an earsplitting crack of thunder. And then the rain really begins.
He cups my chin. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
I could fall in love with you.
“I might break your heart,” I say as cool as I possibly can.
“I look forward to it.” The look on his face is seared in my memory. This is not a game for Edward. He’s completely sincere. And this assurance that he likes me—really likes me—makes him irresistible. So I don’t object when he places his other hand on my waist and confidently pulls me closer.
It’s good to have his strong arms and warm body sheltering me from the pelting rain. He brushes some of the moisture off my face.
“As delightful as it up here getting drenched in a rainstorm with you, I think we should give them what they want.”
I don’t say anything. My words feel trapped in my throat.
Edward doesn’t release his hold on my waist, but he does take half a step back, giving us just enough separation that I feel the loss.
“Elinor, if you really don’t want to kiss me, I will respect that.
I’ll call Brandon right now and demand he let us down.
He’ll do it, no matter what Annie might have planned.
But I think there’s more going on. What are you really worried about?
” The look in his kind eyes makes me want to be truthful.
“I don’t want you to kiss me because of a silly prank my sister pulled. I want you to want to kiss me.”
“Is that all you’re worried about?” He laughs outright. “Elinor, I’ve been wanting to kiss you for weeks now.” He slowly runs his finger along my wet lips. “You have a very kissable mouth, you know.”
“Do I?” I ask inanely. His mouth is so close to mine. “But this might be a terrible idea,” I protest weakly.
“You getting hypothermia is a terrible idea. Us kissing—that’s a very good idea.”
I breathe in his warm breath. The moment his wet lips brush mine something inside me roars to life.
I tug him closer. We kiss and kiss, unbothered by wind and the pelting rain.
Our mouths move together, wordlessly confessing all the tender things we haven’t dared say aloud, all the feelings we’ve kept bottled up: I want you, I need you, I adore you.
His hand cradles my cheek. My fingers slip through his rain-soaked hair and settle against his back, his muscles radiating heat through his wet shirt.
We finally come up for air, our faces inches apart.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Edward asks, smiling through the rain.
My head is light. My knees are weak. Seriously weak. If he wasn’t holding me so close, I think I’d collapse. And I can’t seem to string together anything more articulate then, “No, not bad . . . rather nice, in fact.”
He laughs softly, his forehead still resting against mine, and for one blissful moment I completely forget that we’re stranded in a treehouse under Annie’s ridiculous terms.
Then the realization hits me. “Wait! We didn’t take a photo!” Honestly, I don’t care about my sister’s stupid photo—I’m just desperate for any excuse to return to kissing Edward.
He holds up his phone and takes a selfie of a brief but thrilling kiss. “That’s taken care of,” he says with a teasing glint. “No need to kiss me anymore.”
“Or . . . we could anyway . . .” I say softly.
Edward breaks into a smile and pulls me into his arms, and .
. . wow. I would never have guessed that Edward, usually so diffident and self-effacing, would kiss with such confidence and passion.
No one could accuse him of lacking ambition when it comes to kissing.
There’s nothing lazy or laid-back about these kisses.
They are hungry, driven, and single-minded.
And I can’t get enough. His hair is dripping and so is mine, and we’re both shaking—but not just from cold.
He kisses away the raindrops sliding down my jawline, and I murmur my approval.
“Edward and Elinor sitting in a tree!” Both our heads swivel at the jarring sound of my sister’s singing. “K.I.S.S.I.N.G!” she continues. Her head and shoulders are halfway through the trapdoor.
“Oi!” I yell! “How long have you been there?”
“Long enough. I should have filmed you. Brandon’s never going to believe this.
But then again, it’s probably best I didn’t.
Pepper would want to see—and that . . .” She climbs up through the entrance and lets out a low whistle.
“Let’s just say . . . that was definitely not appropriate for children. ”