Page 31 of Chasing Sunsets

That makes me laugh until I hear his seat belt click, and his body moves closer, his thumb rubbing gently across my bottom lip.

“I like that,” he says. “The sound of your laughter.”

I open my mouth, and my tongue swipes out to taste his skin. His eyes darken as he brings his mouth to mine.

“Tell me to stop, and I will,” he says against my lips.

I should, but instead, I kiss him.

I don’t even think about it, don’t give myself time to second-guess. I just lean in and press my lips to his, soft and warm and tasting faintly of wine.

For half a second, he’s still.

And then he kisses me back.

It’s slow, languid—like we have all the time in the world. His other hand comes up, fingers brushing against my jaw, and a shiver runs down my spine.

When I finally pull back, my head is spinning—and not just from the wine.

His eyes are intense, amused. “Well, well.”

I swallow. “That … shouldn’t have happened.”

His grin is lazy, knowing. “Like I said, friends kiss sometimes.”

I arch a brow. “Do they?”

“Sure.” He leans back, stretching an arm across the back of his seat, like he isn’t fazed at all. “Good friends do.”

I huff a laugh, shaking my head. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet here you are, kissing me.”

I glare at him, but it’s useless. He knows he’s won this round.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” he asks.

I shrug. “Sleeping in. Maybe doing some painting or swimming. I don’t really have any plans.”

“Want to take a boat ride?” he asks.

“Where to?” I ask.

“It’s a surprise adventure. I’ll pick you up at noon. Bring your painting supplies.”

That piques my interest.

“Okay.”

I reach for the handle. “Good night, Anson,” I say, opening the door.

He watches me, still grinning. “Sweet dreams, Trouble.”

As I step inside my RV, closing the door behind me, I press my fingers to my lips, my skin still tingling.

Friends kiss sometimes.

Maybe.

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