Page 139 of Tamiko and the Two Janitors
Melissa tweaked his little finger. “You’ve strayed offtopic, Fourth of Wards.”
“Where was I?”
“The language of kisses.”
“Right. Yes. So.” To her surprise, Jiminy released her handsand took a step back. “Wolves place greater importance on non-verbal sounds,gestures, postures, and scents than they do on words. Touch is trust, as basicas breathing. And the most meaningful of touches is the kiss.”
She hadn’t expected a lecture, but she wasn’t about tocomplain. This definitely wasn’t covered in the standard reaver curriculum.
“A single kiss to the center of the forehead can be a showof affection. But it could also be a pledge of protection, an apology, afarewell, a sign of approval, a mark of ownership, or even gentle refusal.”
That was a wide range of meaning, and only for the center ofthe forehead. “How do you know what kind of kiss it is?”
“Context, I suppose. Everything a wolf does involves acombination of all those sounds, gestures, and expressions.” He asked, “May Idemonstrate?”
She offered her hands again, silently repeating the show oftrust.
All Jiminy did was rise up on his toes to press his lipslightly to her forehead. “What do you think that meant?”
Melissa frowned. “Nothing much. That was sort of …perfunctory.”
“Kisses never meannothing. A simple kiss can meansimple things. I like you. I’m here. I’m glad you’re here.” Jiminy had returnedto a polite distance. “This time, I’ll do it a little differently.”
Stepping forward, he took her by the shoulders, gave them asmall squeeze, then kissed her forehead with more warmth than the last time.
“Well?”
This was familiar territory. She’d received this sort ofkiss from Rook. “That was more like … good job, you did well, congratulations.”
“See? You’re catching on.” Jiminy asked, “Ready foranother?”
Melissa waited to see what he would do.
But when Jiminy’s gaze softened, the lesson veered out ofacademic territory. He trailed his fingertips over her cheek and gentlycaressed her mess of curls, like he’d always wondered about them, and he likedwhat he found. Jiminy was smiling when his lips touched her forehead, and helingered just long enough to put her cheeks to flame.
Leaning back to search her face, he offered a small hum ofapproval. “There now,” he murmured. “It’s not all that complicated.”
She asked, “My turn?”
Jiminy blinked.
Melissa wondered if the wolves had also documented alanguage of winks and wide eyes and fluttering lashes. She really did like theadvantage that came with underestimation. “Is the next boundary taste?”
Jiminy’s eyes slammed shut, but he was too late. Melissa hadalready seen all the things he had not planned to say.
“May I kiss you?” she asked.
He swayed into her, and his lips brushed the corner of hermouth. Inviting. Entreating.
Melissa swept in with a fearless assault that reduced herwolf to words. Ones she’d needed to hear. Ones she gladly returned. For theyadded up to mutual trust, lifelong loyalty, and unwavering devotion.
FORTY-FIVE
Stake Out
Kip’s mind was on nothing more urgent than his currentcraving for nut tarts, nut pies, and nut loaves when he sauntered through thefront door of Tough Nut Bakery, toting a burlap sack that rattled pleasantlywith the promise of all the above.
His midnight forage through his fifteen-acre nut grove inNocking, where he and Ash shared a cabin, would make Mom happy. And when Momwas happy, everyone was happy. Especially when she pretended not to notice whena little of this or that went missing from the bakery case or the coolingracks.
