Page 56 of To Believe In You
“My grandma’s summer home. The one Dad and Shane want me to sell. I have years of good memories there, but I’ve always wanted …” She blinked and cleared her throat with a delicate cough. Choking up. “I’ve always hated disappointing my father.”
“He’s the disappointment here, got it?” If only Lina’s Dad had come along with Shane and been part of the fight so Matt could’ve throttled the man. “He has no right to even ask you to sell, let alone to send your violent, abusive, gambling ex here to get it for him.”
Her frustration escaped in a sigh. She reached for the door with one hand and touched his arm with the other. The parting gesture undermined its own purpose because once she’d touched him, he wasn’t about to let her go uncontested.
He caught her hand lightly. If she pulled away, he wouldn’t fight her. She didn’t. Instead, she fit her fingers between his.
When she shifted closer, her skirt pressed against his pant leg. “If my own father would be so reckless over a piece of land, what does that do to me? To my … my ability to trust people?”
“You’ll have to fight for it, but if I’ve learned anything in recovery, it’s that some things are worth fighting for.”
She touched his uninjured cheek. Her lips parted, and she took a breath to speak. Or so he thought until she focused on his mouth.
Indecision seemed to battle in her eyes. He’d risk his own heart all day long, but Lina’s? He didn’t trust himself enough to decide for her. Especially not considering the way she’d been hurt.
Let her lead.
He repeated the three words over and over as the ache to take over grew.
Her chin tipped up, and she pressed a soft, brief kiss to his lips.
Incongruent with the most chaste kiss of his life, desire pummeled his restraint. His mantra to let her lead crumbled, and he snatched the next closest objection. If he kissed her the way he wanted, he’d bump his nose and turn a sweet moment into an awkward one. Better to illustrate his trustworthiness by showing her she was safe to express how she felt without him taking liberties.
But when she stepped back, her gaze flicked to his face and away again, uncertain. “I’m sorry.” Her throat tightened with a gulp.
Had he played it too safe? “Don’t apologize.”
She cringed. “I’m your boss.”
“That’syour hang-up?” He brushed the backs of his fingers along her jaw. “It must be exhausting to live by so many rules.” As he rested his palms on either side of her face, her curls lay like silk over his knuckles. “I’ll quit Monday.”
He paused long enough to see a whisper of a smile on her lips, trust in her brown eyes.
Then, he kissed her back. Where she’d been soft and quick, he chose slow and intentional. Her arms, bare in her dress, circled his neck, soft and warm against his shoulders. His hand on her back glided over satin and skin, and judging by the noise she made in the back of her throat, she enjoyed the kiss at least as much as she’d enjoyed the chicken at the wedding. Fighting a chuckle, he tipped his head back. Her idea of an appropriate first kiss was probably tamer than his, and anyway, if they kept this up, he really would bump his nose. He brushed his thumbs over her cheeks one last time and stepped away.
She ran her fingers over her lips—over a smile.
He moved his head, allowing light from the kitchen to fall over her face. “You’ve got a little something.” He touched the skin above his own lip.
She lifted her hand again and checked her finger after attempting to rub off the mark. “Better?”
The smudge of lipstick remained. Still, he smiled. “Beautiful.”
Her expression flickered with disbelief. This time, when she grasped the door handle, she didn’t reach back to him. Even so, her mouth bowed into a sweet smile as she said goodnight and slipped out.
He waited until she’d pulled out of the driveway before abandoning his post at the window.
After that, he wouldn’t sleep for hours. He could reach out to try to do damage control, but Gannon had other things on his mind tonight, and by now, who knew how many drinks Tim had downed.
Instead, he descended to the basement and plugged in the old keyboard. Once upon a time, Mom had forced him into piano lessons, and the skill served him well when he was composing music. Since he wouldn’t be sleeping soon, he’d see if he could make progress on some songs—whether or not he’d ever perform them with Awestruck.
* * *
The next morning,Lina sat in her hotel room, her phone in her hands, her bags packed for the two-hour drive back to Lakeshore. Until Matt said she could choose to trust, she hadn’t realized she had a choice in the matter. Instead of letting experience ingrain isolating beliefs, she could fight for the connections she wanted.
She could choose to trust. She’d put the knowledge into immediate use by kissing Matt.
That experiment had gone deliciously well.
