Page 40 of Finding Love at the Magical Curiosity Shop
Eventually, he starts to move. He shifts around to push himself into more of a sitting position with a few grunts and groans, and then leans back until he can catch my eyes again. ‘You’re not really going to Wales on your own, are you?’
‘Yes. I’m not keen on driving, but the diary is important to me. I want to know the truth behind it, and if going there can help uncover something then it’s worth it.’
‘I’ll drive.’
‘What, right now?’ I raise a teasing eyebrow, about to jokingly lecture him on the laws of drinking and driving.
‘Hah hah,’ he mutters and leans back to meet my eyes again. ‘No. All three of us. Let’s do it. Let’s go to Wales. Notrightnow, obviously. Whenever suits you. Me and Ava are free until school starts again, but you’ve got the shop to work around. Figure out the best time for you and we’ll go, get a hotel for a couple of days, see what we can find out.’
I squeal and he winces at the pitch too near his eardrum, suggesting he’s sobering upwaytoo quickly. ‘You mean that?’
‘Yes. It’s not the sort of thing I’d ever do, but you make me want to be less… me, so yeah, why not?’
‘For those of us who like you exactly as you are, I don’t think that’s a good thing. Beingyouis okay.’
He makes a disbelieving noise and looks like he wants to say something else, and I decide to lighten the mood. ‘But so is not making me trek all the way to western Wales on my tod, so I’m going to hold you to that, even if you regret this conversation in the morning.’
He takes my hand again and lifts it to his mouth. ‘Suspect I’m going to regret alotof things in the morning.’ His lips move against my skin, his soft stubble skimming across my hand, and then he lets go and sits forward. ‘We should go, shouldn’t we? This riverbank is having a detrimental effect on my ability to think straight.’
‘I don’t think it’s the riverbank, do you?’
He laughs as he pulls his shoes over and puts them back on, which takes a few more attempts than it usually would, and then he groans as he pitches himself upright and I scramble up to wrap an arm around him in case he slips on the smooth stones.
I carry the basket in one hand and keep my other arm wrapped around his waist, while his arm stays around my shoulders, and as soon as the ground is solid again, he stops and pulls away far enough to hold both arms open, inviting a proper hug.
I step into his embrace instantly, because the half-squeezes and awkward angles have been nowhere near enough tonight. His arms slide around my waist and he pulls me tight against him, so every inch of our bodies are touching. One hand reaches up so his fingers can tangle in the falling-down knot of my hair, and I lose track of time as we stand there, just holding each other.
He starts humming ‘Part of Your World’ and moving us around in a blocky, unsteady dance that makes me giggle and hold on even tighter in an attempt to stop us both toppling over. One hand stays on his back, while the other creeps up to tangle in the thick hair at the nape of his neck, and he lets out a shuddery, guttural groan and curls even further around me. His feet stumble at the touch so I keep doing it, letting my fingers stroke through the hair at the back of his head and dance across the nape of his neck, until he buries his face in my shoulder and squeezes me tighter.
‘That affection, I haven’t had that for years. There’s always an undercurrent of frustration running through me, and I don’t feel that tonight. Thank you for making me feel so loved, even just for a little while.’
I can feel my heartbeat throbbing in my head and my throat is tightening as words fight to get out. He’ssoopen that it’s heart-rending and I have never wanted to wave a magic wand and erase someone’s pain more than I do right at this moment. It would be so, so easy to lift his head and pull his mouth down to mine right now, and Iwantto. Oh, how I want to.
And I know he’s feeling it too. ‘It’s been so long since I felt like this. I wish, just for a while, to feel wanted. Desirable. I wish you’d kiss me.’
He doesn’t know what he’s saying, I tell myself, as I let out a semi-hysterical laugh. ‘I’m not kissing you when you’re drunk. I’m not kissing you when you’re sober either, for that matter.’
‘Aww, why not?’ He lifts his head from my shoulder and meets my eyes, sounding like evenheisn’t sure whether he’s serious or not.
‘Because youarewanted. Youaredesirable. And youaregoing to regret this in the morning. And so am I,’ I mutter to myself as I reach up and let my thumb brush over the hair darkening his jaw as I cup his face. ‘You have the softest stubble. Stubble by definition is prickly, but yours is like a layer of down covering your face.’ I turn my hand around and let the backs of my fingers rub over his cheeks. ‘And the most beautiful eyes. God, your eyes, Ren. They’re so blue and so sharp. I’ve never seen eyes like yours before.’
Maybe it’s me who should be more careful with what I’m saying. I don’t know what’s come over me tonight, but I suddenly want him to knoweverythingI’m feeling about him.
His eyes are grey in the moonlight, and I know we’re on more dangerous ground than the slippery river rocks just now, but it’s physically impossible to look anywhere else. ‘You have the most kissable cheeks.’
I know I should take my hands off him and step far, far away, but I cup his face again, my fingertips grazing along his jaw. His eyes close as I push myself up on tiptoes until I can touch my lips to his warm cheek. It’s soft, lingering, and tender, and the tip of my nose rubs against his skin, and the noise he makes is full of longing. He slumps against me as his whole body goes boneless, making me wonder how long it’s been since someone kissed this man.
‘Didn’t think I’d ever feel like this again.’ After a while of holding him tight, he blinks wide eyes open and lifts his head so he can meet my eyes. ‘Peaceful. Content. Happy.’
‘Hammered?’ I offer, making him giggle.
‘I’m fine. Just a little bit… wonky.’
‘Aren’t we all?’ I mutter.
‘You’re not.’
‘Oh, I am. You know that. You’ve spent the past three weeks criticising my shop because of how wonky my approach to life has become. But the diary has inspired me. Whoever she was, she didn’t have it easy, but she still…’
