Page 77 of Take Me to the Wedding

He pulled me closer, until we were inches away. I felt transfixed by his gaze, so warm, so full of humor, and now so full of heat. “You did the same for me. Even when you hated me, you wanted to help me with Lilly.”

“I didn’t hate?—”

“But you don’t hate me now.”

“No.” I was trembling. And I knew he could tell because he was holding my hands. So securely, so tightly, that I could see the muscles of his forearms flex. I knew he wasn’t going to let me go.

“There’s more,” I said, looking deeply into his eyes.

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, woman. More?”

“This is the first time I haven’t felt like—” I choked on the emotion. “Like I was alone. Handling everything alone. Because of you.”

“I’ll never leave you alone,” he said matter-of-factly. He could well have said, “I’ll stop and get the milk.”

“No, no. Don’t—don’t say that. I just—I just?—”

“Yeah, yeah.” He waved his hands in the air. “You don’t do serious. Whatever.”

I swallowed. I was completely overcome.

“So, okay?”

“Okay, what?” I whispered.

“Okay to kiss you?”

“I-I can’t stay long. I have to get back.” My hands fluttered some weak semblance of a gesture toward my apartment. But I couldn’t stop myself from nodding.

“I get it. Sisters before misters.”

Before I could even get a laugh out, his lips were on mine, warm and soft and determined. And oh, that kiss took me by storm. He wrapped his arms securely around me and moved his lips over mine, slowly, gently, feeling his way step by step, so carefully and thoroughly, as if he were memorizing every part of my lips, my mouth.

So different from that kiss before getting hauled up in the makeshift harness, which was gutsy and intentional and quick.

I grasped his beautiful face with both my hands, feeling the scratchy softness of his stubble, and I kissed him back, losing myself in the feel of his mouth, his tongue, the heat of his body next to mine.

He tasted so wonderful. And oh, he knew how to kiss. Around us, the apartment was silent and dark, save for the muted, flickering TV and two pendant lights hanging over the tiny island.

He was the one to slowly draw back. I felt it rather than saw it. My eyes flew open to find him solemnly regarding me.

“I know you have to go,” he said, “but I’m going to take that as a yes.”

“A yes?”

“That you’ll go out with me.”

“Okay. After the wedding.”

“No, before.”

“That’s impossible. We leave tomorrow, remember?”

“Nothing’s impossible when you feel this way.”

I tilted my head and gave myself a harsh reminder that this was Caleb-the-romantic, wasn’t it? Getting swept away? I warned myself to not put too much stock in his words.

He swept my hair back and gave me an adoring look. “I’ve dated around some. And yes, I was stuck on Lilly. But you’ve got to understand, I’ve never felt like this. I’m completely bowled over by you.”

---