Page 22 of Lion's Share
“The timing is pretty terrible,” I agreed, and tried to smile. I wasn’t sure how successful I was, though.
“I know,” he said. “And if you’re not ready, or if you think we should just be friends for now, I understand. But I had to tell you.”
I looked at him — really looked at him — in the candlelight, at the way he was watching me with his expression open and just a little bit anxious. In that moment, I realized that I’d been hiding behind excuses for too long. The timing would never be perfect. There would always be something else to worry about, another crisis to manage.
But right now, I knew what I wanted.
“I care about you, too,” I said.
The smile that touched his lips made my breath catch. And then, before I could second-guess myself, I moved closer and leaned in so I could kiss him.
His lips were warm and still brushed with moisture from the rainy night outside, and the kiss was soft at first, tentative. But then his hand came up to cup my cheek, and I leaned into him, and suddenly our embrace was deeper, more urgent. I could taste rainwater on his tongue, and beneath that, something warm and friendly that was uniquely him.
His arms came around me, pulling me closer, and I was completely overwhelmed by him — his warmth, his strength, the solid reassurance of his presence.
The realization that this had happened at last.
When we finally pulled apart, the room seemed to spin around me just a little.
“I’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” I said, smoothing down my shirt because it gave me something to do. My voice sounded much shakier than I’d intended.
“Do you regret it?” he asked, the words quiet, only a murmur.
“No,” I said at once. “To be honest, I’ve been thinking about this for a while. I just could never decide on the right time, or whether there even was a right time. Not because I wasn’t attracted to you,” I added, knowing I needed him to understand, “but because there’s just so much going on right now. Is it really smart to add another complication?”
“I don’t think you’re a complication,” he replied as his sensitive fingers played with the edge of my sleeve. “And we can take this as slowly as you want. But I liked kissing you. And I’m really glad you’ve been thinking about it.”
I couldn’t help smiling. “I liked kissing you, too. And maybe you’re right — maybe it’s better to just acknowledge what’s been building here instead of continuing to dance around it.” I glanced at the candles on the bookshelf behind us, their flames still flickering in some odd draft. “I’m glad you’re okay with taking things slow, though. Because as amazing as that was, I’m exhausted.”
“Me, too,” he replied with a grin, completely unself-conscious.
We sat together in comfortable silence for a few more minutes, his arm around my shoulders, until the lights suddenly flickered back to life.
“Well, that’s convenient timing,” I said with a laugh.
He chuckled as well and then got to his feet, offering me his hand. “I should probably head home and let you get some rest.”
I walked him to the door, suddenly reluctant to see him go, even though I knew he was right. We both needed to sleep, no matter what a few other traitorous thoughts might have been trying to tell me.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked.
“Definitely.”
He leaned down and gave me one more quick, sweet kiss before heading out into the night.
Smiling, I closed the door behind him and then leaned against it, as I touched my fingers to my lips.
Well, I supposed I couldn’t call myself a coward anymore.
Chapter Eight
At first glance, the Friday morning that followed Ben’s and my goodnight kiss didn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary. The fog was thinner, promising possibly a bit of pale sunlight later that afternoon, and although I noted some increased foot traffic on Main Street, that wasn’t so strange. July and August and September tended to be the town’s busiest months — although we always got an influx of tourists the third weekend in December, when people came to watch our famous holiday parade — so I was used to unfamiliar faces on the street and in the shops and restaurants.
Except….
Tory Beacham, one of my regulars, came in around a quarter to eleven, looking puzzled. She was on the town council and had always been a thorn in Jim Tillman’s side…and was, I guessed, the person most responsible for convincing Eliza that she should run to be our new mayor. Beyond that, though — at least, when it came to visiting my store — she had a bonded pair of chihuahuas she’d rescued about five years ago, along with a big Siamese cat who still barely tolerated the interlopers, so she seemed to be in the shop at least once a week, sometimes more.
As she deposited two bags of Science Diet Small Bites Senior and a flat of cat food on the counter, she said out of nowhere, “I thought they were done investigating Victor Maplehurst’s death.”
