Page 60 of She's Like the Wind
It wasn’t a dare.
His lips brushed mine the way silk slips over skin—smooth, curious. Like he was trying to read a story in my mouth, page by page, pause by pause.
He deepened it slowly, tilting his head just enough to angle the kiss, his fingers tightening slightly at my waist. He tasted like coffee and confidence.
Like he knew exactly what he was doing.
And for a second, just a flicker—I kissed him back.
There was warmth.
There was ease.
There was a glimmer of…what could be.
But…there was no wildfire in my lungs. No ache behind my ribs. No world-tilting rush.
When he pulled away, he kept his forehead against mine for a beat. His hands stayed light on my waist. His breath was calm.
“Well?” he asked softly.
I opened my eyes. “You kiss like a man who reads poetry and owns very good sheets.”
He grinned. “Five thousand thread count Egyptian cotton.”
This time I laughed.
“Darlin’, let’s keep it simple. Occasional oysters. And wine. And long conversations where I tell you how amazing you are and remind you what a complete idiot he is.”
“You know that’s not how simple usually works, right?” I cupped his cheek.
“I want you, Naomi, nothing simpler than that.” He rubbed his face against the palm of my hand.
I dropped my hand. “I’m not…in the market forthat.” The idea of having sex with anyone, even Gage, right now, didn’t feel like a possibility.
“That’s fine.” He tucked his hands in his pockets. “I’ll wait…while we eat oysters and drink champagne, obviously.”
I rolled my eyes, enjoying his charm. “Obviously.”
He hung out with me as I worked, told me about his life and family. His sister Lenora was married to Alia, who I’d met. His brother, Jerome, had three kids and lived in the Garden District. Jonah was the youngest, and, in the words of his family, “the resident manwhore.”
He said it with a grin, but I caught the flicker of loneliness. He might be joking about it, but he wanted a relationship. Unlike Gage. It would be so easy to just be with this man. He was kind and sweet and….
“I don’t want you to get the wrong idea, Naomi. I’m looking.”
“For?” I asked even though I knew.
“Someone who makes me stop.”
I set aside a white negligee, deciding not to take it along for the show. “Stop what?”
“Stop looking.”
“You want to fall in love,” I remarked.
He smiled, slower this time. “Yeah.”
I felt a shiver run up my spine. It wouldn’t do for me to weave dreams about this man. It would be unfair to himandme.
