cheek.
His touch burned. She wanted to catch his hand and hold it against her face-just hold it.
People were watching.
What did it matter? Was this the next step? ‘Hey, Nicholas…’
The moment-the danger?-had passed. Fred was bearing down on them, intentions obvious. ‘Great sail. Well done. I hear you can paint.’
‘Paint?’ Nick said cautiously and Misty managed a chuckle as she moved swiftly away.
‘Welcome to my world,’ she murmured and went to congratulate Di. She hadn’t taken his hand, she told herself. She’d stayed self-contained. Good.
But self-contained wasn’t actually going to happen. Not if Bailey could help it. She’d taken two steps when he slid his hand into hers.
‘When we go home can I come in your car? Dad says we can have fish and chips for tea. Can we eat tea together? The dogs and I would really like it.’
It seemed surly to refuse, so yes, they ate fish and chips together on the beach. Took bounded a mile or more and then settled beside Ketchup in blissful peace. Apart from looking enquiringly to the chips every now and then, both dogs seemed happy.
Ketchup was looking better every day. The initial pinning of the badly fractured leg needed follow-up. There’d be more surgery later on, but for now he was with Took and he’d found a home.
More, he’d found a boy. And boy had found dogs. The three of them were curing each other, Misty thought, as she watched Bailey tease Took with a chip-tease her, tease her, then shriek as Ketchup whipped in from the side to snatch it. While Bailey was expounding indignation, Took wolfed three more.
Bailey giggled, his father chuckled, Misty went to move the chips out of dog range, Nick did the same and somehow Nick’s hand was touching hers again.
They glanced at each other. Nick moved the chips. Then he returned to touch again.
And hold.
‘It’s been a magical day,’ he said softly. ‘Thanks to Misty.’
‘Thanks to Misty not winning, you mean,’ she said with what she hoped was dry humour, but he shook his head and suddenly he had both her hands and he was drawing her closer.
‘That’s not what I mean at all. Misty…’
What was he doing? Was he planning to kiss her? Now?
‘Not in front of Bailey,’ she breathed. No!
‘Not what in front of Bailey?’ Nick asked, smiling down into her eyes. ‘Not thanking his teacher for giving us a lesson in life?’
‘How can I have done that?’
‘Easy,’ he said. ‘By being you.’ He tugged her closer. ‘Misty…’
‘No.’
‘You mean you don’t want me to kiss you?’
‘No!’
The laughter was back in his eyes. Laughter should never leave him for long, she thought. He was meant for smiling.
He was meant for smiling at her?
‘You mean no, you don’t not want me to kiss you?’ he asked, his smile widening. Becoming wicked.
‘No!’ She had to think of something more intelligent to say. She couldn’t think of anything but Nick’s smile.
‘It’s very convoluted,’ he complained. ‘I’m not sure I get it. So if I pulled you closer…’
‘Nick…’
‘Bailey, close your eyes,’ he said. ‘I need to give Miss Lawrence a thank you kiss.’
‘She doesn’t like ’em slurpy,’ Bailey said wisely. ‘She tells Ketchup that all the time.’
‘Not slurpy,’ Nick said. ‘Got it.’
‘And she hates tongues touching,’ he added. ‘That happened yesterday after Ketchup chewed the liver treat. She went and washed her mouth out with soap.’
‘So no tongue kissing-or no liver treats?’
‘Nick…’ She was trying to tug away. She was trying to be serious. But his eyes were laughing, full of devilry, daring her. Loving her?
‘Miss Lawrence has said I mustn’t kiss her in front of you,’ Nick told his son, and his eyes weren’t leaving hers. He was making love to her with his eyes, she thought. How did that happen?
‘I mean it,’ she whispered.
‘So can you take Took down and feed the rest of the chips to the seagulls?’
‘Why? It’s okay to watch.’
‘What would the kids at school say if they saw you kissing a girl?’ his father asked.
Bailey considered. ‘I guess they’d giggle. And Natalie would say, “Kissie kissie”. I think.’
‘Exactly,’ his father said. ‘Miss Lawrence is really scared of giggling and she’s even more scared of kissie kissie. So, unless you go away, I can’t kiss her.’
‘You can’t kiss me anyway,’ Misty managed and his eyes suddenly lost their laughter. ‘Really?’
And how was a girl to respond to that?
‘I don’t…’
‘Know?’ he said. ‘There’s only one answer to that. Bailey, down to the water right now or there’s no fish and chips on the beach until the next blue moon. Right?’ And then, as Bailey giggled, and he and his dog headed towards the seagulls on the shoreline, he pulled her closer still. ‘Ready or not…’
And he kissed her.
Second kiss.
Better.
He knew what he wanted.
His parents considered him insane for being a risk-taker. He’d sworn risk-taking would end.
Was it a risk to believe he was falling in love in little more than a week? Was it a risk to want this woman?
It had been a risk to think he was in love with Isabelle. More-it had been calamity. But this was no risk.
This was Misty. A safe harbour after the storm. A woman to come home to.
She wasn’t pulling back. Her lips would feel warm, he thought. Full and generous. Loving and reassuring.
But then his mouth met hers and instead of warmth there was…more. Sizzle. Heat. Want.
Instead of kissing her, he found he was being kissed.
There was nothing safe about this kiss. It asked much more than it told, but it told so much. It told that this woman wanted him, ached for him, came alive at his touch.
It told him that she wanted him as much as he wanted her-and more.
Just a kiss…
Not just a kiss. He was holding a woman in his arms and he was making her feel loved, desired. He knew it because the same thing was happening to him. The awfulness of the last twelve months was slipping away. More- the pain of a failing marriage, the knowledge that he was always walking a tightrope, slipped and faded to nothing, and all there was left was Misty.
He was deepening the kiss and she was as hungry as he was, as desperate to be close. Her hands tugged him closer. Closer still… She was moulding to him and her breathing was almost like part of him.
He wanted her so much…
He was on the beach with two dogs and his son.
Ketchup was nosing between them. Misty’s hands were…pushing? She wanted to stop?
They should stop.
Who moved first? He didn’t know; all he knew was that they were somehow apart and Misty was looking at him with eyes that were dazed, confused, lost.
‘Misty…’ Her look touched something deep within. Was she afraid?
