It Started With a Kiss (Insta-Spark)

“Mom and Dad.”

He chuckled.

“Janett and Doug.” I spelled it out for him. “Janett with two ‘t’s. It’s pronounced Jeanette, but spelled differently. It’s a family name.”

“Huh. It is different. I like that.” He relaxed, crossing his ankles. “And Janett and Doug were quite protective?”

“My dad especially. He was a principal at the local school and pretty tough. All the kids were scared of him. My mom was more lenient. But, they were fair and loving, even if my dad went overboard at times.”

Daniel chuckled. “Principal, heh? I imagine that was rather intimidating for any boy who was interested.”

“I could do group outings, that sort of thing, but no dates. He always had to know where I was and who I was with.” I chortled at the memory. “The first boy I went on a date with, Tommy Forsyth, was so scared of my father and the interrogation that happened, he didn’t even try to hold my hand. He walked me to the door at exactly ten o’clock and literally waved goodnight and took off.”

“No second date?”

“No. I didn’t date a lot until after high school. I come from a small town up North, and everyone knew my dad. He was a bit much for the boys to handle, I guess.” I shrugged. “I had some good friends and we all hung out together.”

“And dating in university?”

“There wasn’t a lot of that either, never really has been.”

“I find that difficult to believe.”

“I’ve never really connected with anyone easily.” I picked at a small thread hanging from my skirt. “I–I’m a little shy and I tend to hang back. It’s off-putting to some guys, I think.”

“How so?”

“I get tongue-tied and nervous. Some people see it as me being snobby, but sometimes, I simply don’t know what to say.”

“I noticed the shy part.” He lowered his voice. “I find it appealing, to be honest.”

“Oh.”

“All anyone has to do is look at the depth in your eyes, and they would know you aren’t snobby.”

I stared at him. “Maybe no one has looked hard enough.”

“Your soul is in your eyes, Avery. When I look in them, all I see is warmth.”

I shook my head in wonder. Who was this man?

He chuckled. “You don’t seem shy with me.”

He was right. I didn’t feel the same overwhelming shyness with Daniel. “You make me feel . . . different. I feel very comfortable with you.”

He lifted my hand, kissing the knuckles. “Good.”

“Tell me about your family.”

He scowled a little at the change of subject, but let it go. “Well, you met my sister Caitlin. She’s two years younger than I am.” A thought must have crossed his mind. “How old are you, Avery?”

“You don’t know?”

“No, we weren’t given any personal information about the person we were matched to.”

“Twenty-seven.”

“I’m thirty-two.”