Don’t fuck this up, Luca.
Why was I so nervous? I’d kissed her before. We’d slept together, for goodness’ sake. I supposed the difference was now I knew what I wanted and what I had to lose.
As if she could sense my anxiety, she gave me a small smile. It was all the encouragement I needed.
I dipped my head and pressed my lips to hers. This time I wasn’t trying to silence her. Or calm her down and make her see she was beautiful. I was just doing what felt good. Again. And again. I couldn’t remember focusing so much on a kiss before. Usually, I was more interested in what came after the kiss. But all I could think about in this moment were her warm, soft lips and the scent of cinnamon. My tongue glided into her mouth and I had to tamp down the urge to slide my hand up her dress and press her against the door with my hips. Her hands crept up my chest and I sank into her touch. It just felt so right. Hopefully she was thinking the exact same thing.
Eventually, I pulled back and watched as she opened her eyes.
“Right,” she said, nodding. “I always think I must have been imagining it, but nope. No wonder.”
She wasn’t making much sense. “No wonder?”
“No wonder you can have your pick of women when you can kiss like that.”
I grinned. That didn’t sound like I’d fucked up.
“Can I though?” I asked.
Her eyebrows pulled together a fraction, but she didn’t answer. And I knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that there was at least one woman I wanted who I simply could not have.
“I should go inside,” she said. “That’s what I should say now? Even if he’s as hot as you and can kiss like that?”
“You’re thinking of inviting me in?”
“Goddamn that dimple,” she said. “I should definitely excuse myself or I’m going to . . .” She narrowed her eyes as if she were trying to make sense of our ridiculous situation. Instead of finishing her sentence, she pressed her palms to either side of my face and drew me toward her lips. I closed my eyes, expecting to feel her mouth on mine, but instead she pressed a soft kiss just to the side of my mouth, where I realized that goddamn dimple must have appeared. I couldn’t help my smile, or the sharp intake of breath that rushed into my lungs when Hartford’s soft kiss turned into a gentle bite. Before I could react, she’d kissed the spot again. “I’ve been thinking about doing that for fifteen years,” she whispered, her voice gone husky. “Good night, Joshua.”
She scuttled inside as if she’d catch fire if she stayed out a moment longer.
When her door shut, I pulled in a deep breath.
One date wasn’t going to be enough to have her see me as potential boyfriend material. But it was enough to tell me she was the only woman I wanted.
I just needed her to see I was the only man she needed.
Twenty-Five
Hartford
I threw open the curtains in the living room to reveal an unusually blue sky for London, even in summer. I needed some fresh air to clear my head, so despite the air conditioning, I pushed open the windows. In the twelve hours since dinner with Joshua, everything had become a little bit fuzzy. Not only was my forcefield faltering, but after our fake date, I wanted to reach for the off switch. Last night was supposed to have been pretend, but there were moments that felt so very real. I was still trying to make sense of it.
The knock at the door had my heart racing. Even though I knew it was just Stella, I was still sort of hoping it would be Joshua.
“Hey!” I opened the door to Stella weighed down by shopping bags. I quickly grabbed a couple from her. Crikey. They were heavy. “What have you got in here?”
“Flour. And other bits. I thought we’d bake some bread.”
Stella was taking her teacher role very seriously. Given what an excellent baker she was, I wasn’t surprised.
“You think I’m ready for bread?”
“Of course you’re ready for bread.” We put the bags onto the island and set about unpacking them. “I didn’t really bake until I moved in with Beck, but bread was the first thing I made in our new home. The kitchen in our flat is just so bloody amazing, I wanted to use it as much as possible. I didn’t have a clue what I was doing.”
“I would have thought you’d grown up baking. You’re so good.”
“Nope. I’m a newbie really.” She pulled out an apron and looped it over her head before securing it around her waist, then went to the sink and washed her hands. I copied everything she did like a good student. “Before Beck, I spent a long time with a man I thought I was going to marry. Then he married my best friend, and I met Beck. Life has chapters. Who you were at the start of the story isn’t who you’ll be at the end. I wasn’t born a baker and you didn’t come out of the womb a doctor.