Page 28 of Mending Fences
“You have that backward. He stole my sandwich. Do you still speak duck?”
Daniel laughed. “Not a single quack.” He’d felt silly lecturing the ducks in their language, but his act had made Mandy laugh and the frightened tears go away before she’d hugged him and given him a kiss on the cheek for saving her life. He hadn’t appreciated a kiss then.
“Too bad. I would ask you to tell them there are no more scones.” Her eyes grew wide, and she leaned toward him and plucked something off the front of his shirt. “Except for this one.” She popped the large crumb into her mouth before he could get it back.
“Hey, that isn’t fair!”
Mandy shook her head. “Finders keepers.”
“Really?”
Mandy nodded.
“If I find a crumb?” He gave a crooked smile.
Mandy studied her clothing before answering. “All yours.”
Mandy stilled when he reached out and cupped her jaw. “There is one on the corner of your mouth.” He could have easily wiped it off with his thumb, and he had meant to at first, but Mandy’s eyes fluttered closed, so he kissed her—a soft brush to dislodge the crumb and let her protest. A second brush to be sure she wouldn’t pull back, then a kiss. It was evident she wasn’t as experienced as the women he’d kissed these last several years. He deepened the kiss when she responded like a butterfly—soft, fragile, beautiful. Her hand on his chest rested lightly, not pulling him in but not pushing him away either. Not wanting to push her too far, he pulled back.
Mandy blinked at him. “Is it gone?”
Daniel studied her face in the dimming light. The weariness in her eyes told him she had yet to decide if she needed her fight or flight response. The crumb rested near her chin, he lied. “No more crumbs.”
“Good, I would hate for Hank’s great-grandson to see a crumb there.”
I would too, darling.“Don’t worry. I would save you.”
Mandy leaned against his shoulder and watched the pond.
