Page 20 of One Night Flame

“Probably.”

Neither of us moved.

She stayed right there in my arms, like maybe she didn’t want the night to end either. Like maybe she was waiting for me to make a move I wasn’t entirely sure I should make.

I didn’t know what came next. But I knew I wanted to find out.

I drove her home in relative silence, something low and crooning on the radio. The whole way, I wanted to take her hand across the console, but I held myself back. I needed to get my head right about this woman. Tonight had been about the auction. Or it was supposed to be. But somehow it had gone well beyond that for me.

I thought she’d had a good time. Maybe she’d be willing to see me again. I was rehearsing what to say to ask her as walked her to the door of her neat little house. It was late. The kind oflate where most of Huckleberry Creek had long since rolled up the sidewalks.

But I wasn’t ready for this night to be over.

Lucy unlocked the door and turned to me with a little smile, one hand resting on the doorknob. “Thank you. For tonight. For… all of it. I had a really incredible time.”

I watched the way her eyes lingered on mine. Like she wanted to say something else and wasn’t sure if she should.

Imagining what that might be had my heart picking up the pace, so I nudged, soft and easy. “What?”

Her teeth caught her bottom lip for just a second. “I just… I know this was an auction date, not a real date. I didn’t even really choose you, my grandma did, and maybe this is totally out of line, but…” She looked up at me, lashes low and voice soft enough to get lost in the quiet between us. “Could I kiss you?”

I didn’t move at first. Didn’t even blink.

Because something in the way she asked—uncertain but brave, like this wasn’t a thing she did lightly—hit me harder than I expected.

I reached up, brushing a loose piece of hair back from her face. Let my fingers linger, trailing the edge of her jaw like it might anchor us both. “As it stopped being an auction date quite a few hours ago, I hope you will.”

Lucy stared at me for a beat. Like she was still giving herself permission. Then she leaned in.

That first touch was featherlight. Barely there. Her lips brushed mine with the kind of hesitance that felt like inexperience, not disinterest. Like she was testing the water with both feet planted on the dock.

So I kissed her back, just enough to meet her halfway. Gentle. Sure. Inviting.

That was all it took.

Her hands curled into the front of my shirt, and I felt themoment she let go. Of the nerves. The doubt. The walls. She tilted her head and deepened the kiss, her body pressing into mine like she suddenly couldn’t get close enough.

It wasn’t hesitant anymore. It was hungry.

Hot and sweet and a little clumsy in a way that made my pulse spike, because it wasn’t practiced—it was real. Earnest. A woman who’d clearly forgotten what it meant to be wanted and was just now remembering how damn good it could feel.

And God, I wanted to be the one to remind her.

I wrapped one arm around her waist, the other sliding up her back. Anchoring her. Holding her like she deserved. Her mouth opened under mine, her breath stuttered, and then it was just heat and motion and that low sound in her throat that made my blood roar.

She kissed like she had something to prove.

And I kissed her like I never wanted to stop. Because damn, I didn’t.

I devoured her mouth, drinking in every sweet little whimper and moan that said she liked what we were doing and was a hundred percent here for more. A man could get drunk on those sounds. On her.

By the time we pulled back, we were both breathing harder than we should’ve been, standing fully clothed on her front step. Her cheeks were flushed, lips kiss-swollen, pupils blown wide.

She didn’t let go.

“Would you…” Her voice was husky now, tentative again, but this time for a different reason. “Would you come inside?”

I hesitated—not because I didn’t want to. Because I did. Badly. And I didn’t want her thinking this was a debt to repay. Some obligation wrapped in a kiss.

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