Page 60 of Fated

I can’t fathom that. There isn’t anything I wanted more. In fact, the concoction is already starting to clear my head, and after a shower and brushing my teeth I might like to resume kissing again.

“Why not?” I ask, taking in the hard line of McCormick’s jaw and the furrowing of his brow.

“Because you pushed me away.”

I shake my head.

“And then went and had rum with the guys.”

Oh no.

“And danced with Robert?”

“Right.”

What the heck is wrong with me?

“I’m sorry,” I tell him, searching his expression for a hint of what he’s feeling.

“It was a party.” He shrugs. “You’re meant to have rum and cake.”

I shake my head. “You can be angry if you like. I think you’re taking this stoic thing too far. I’d be angry if I were you.”

He raises his eyebrows. “You want me to be angry?”

I shake my head. I think about what Robert said. “Was that kiss in the water you trying to breathe life back into a guttered flame?”

McCormick stands then, his shadow falling over the wood floor. Behind him Sean toddles over to a set of blocks stacked in a pyramid. He knocks them over with a quick shove. They clatter to the floor and Sean laughs, shouting, “Uh-oh!”

“No,” McCormick says, glancing at Sean and then back to me. “I kissed you,” he says in a low voice, “because?—”

“Because?” I clutch the cotton of my dress in my hand. A sharp heat snaps between us.

“Because for the first time in my life it felt like if I didn’t kiss you, I’d ...” He looks away, his jaw tightening. When he looks back he almost seems angry. “It felt like if I didn’t kiss you I’d regret it for the rest of my life.”

The warm air is heavy as I draw in a breath. The taut tension between us expands, pulling back, ready to snap. Carefully I set the hot mug of coffee on the side table. Then I stand and close the distance between us.

My breath is short in my lungs. McCormick watches me stepping closer, his gaze cautious, but he doesn’t move back when I press into him and fold my arms around him.

He’s warm, solid, and his heart beats solidly under my cheek. I breathe in the clean scent of him. He holds himself still, not moving his arms around me, but not pulling away either.

Once that kiss began, “I felt the same.”

He lifts his hand then, stroking it gently down my hair. The softness of his T-shirt rubs against my cheek. I settle closer.

“I wonder,” I say, my lips next to his heart, “if you’d like to spend the day with me. I want to get to know you.”

“I don’t understand,” he says, running his hand through my hair. “Since yesterday it’s like you’re two different people. And I don’t know who I’m going to get from one minute to the next.”

Yes. The dream me and then the me who wreaks havoc when I’m not around.

“Maybe you need to get to know me better too,” I say. “You don’t know me at all.”

His hand pauses then and he looks down at me, studying my expression. “I don’t?”

I shake my head. “No.”

“You want to go on a date?”

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