Page 96 of A Circle of Crows
Then,without another word, he leaned in to refresh the memory of his kiss against mylips, with a silent promise that it wouldn’t be the last. But before he couldtake it a step further and part his lips, I pressed a hand to the breast of histweed jacket.
“Buton one condition,” I continued, my lips brushing against his as I spoke.
“Hm,”he grunted, furrowing his brow. “And what’s that?”
“Ifa dead body happens to turn up, I’m never, ever coming along for the rideagain.”
Aleclaughed in the way that I had missed but had rarely heard during my time inScotland, as he pressed his forehead to mine. I don't know how, with thehorrors of those days playing through my mind, but I found it in me to laughwith him, for the first time in what seemed like months. And it felt likefreedom, relief, and the meaning of what it was to be alive, all wrapped up inone cozy little package of hope.
Then,he exhaled into the newness of Spring and said, “Lass, Icannaesee the future, and who knows what might happen, but Christ, I fuckin' hopenot.”
“Well,then,” I replied, wrapping my arms around his neck, “that'll have to be goodenough for now.”
