Page 37 of A Brambleberry Summer

“I am glad I could remind you of this,” she finally said.

He knew he should walk away, turn around and go into the house, to that empty apartment and the even emptier bed. He couldn’t seem to make his muscles cooperate. The pull of her was too strong and he had no tools to withstand this slow, aching desire churning through his blood.

“I would like to kiss you right now.”

As soon as he heard the words, he wanted to call them back, but it was far too late. They danced between them like petals on the breeze.

He thought she would turn and walk away since he couldn’t seem to do it. Instead, she only gazed up at him out of those soft brown eyes he wanted to sink into.

“Would you?” she finally asked, her voice soft and her accent more pronounced than usual.

“Yes. Would you mind?”

After a brief hesitation, as if she was debating with herself, she shook her head slightly.

That was all the encouragement he needed. He lowered his mouth to hers, his heart beating so loudly in his ears it almost drowned out the ever-present sound of the ocean.

If he had forgotten how much peace he could find talking with a woman, he hadreallyforgotten how much he loved to kiss a woman in the moonlight.

Her mouth tasted of strawberries and cream, and her lips trembled slightly. She must have set down the bag she had been carrying because one hand grasped his shirtfront and the other slid around his neck.

It was the perfect moment, the perfect kiss. He had no other way to describe it. A light breeze stirred the air around them, the ocean murmured nearby and the moonlight played on her features.

He wanted to stay right here, with his heart pounding and her mouth soft and sweet and generously responding to his kiss.

Here, he could focus only on the perfection of this moment. Not on the pain of the past or the mysteries that surrounded her or all the reasons they could never have anything but this kiss.

Chapter Eight

In her secret dreams, Rosa had wondered before what it would be like to kiss Wyatt. Having him live downstairs from her these last few weeks had only increased her attraction to the man, so, of course, she would wonder.

She had suspected kissing him would be an unforgettable experience.

She had not expected it to knock her legs out from under her.

Rosa closed her eyes, her heart pounding as his mouth explored hers.

Now, as he kissed her, she could admit that she had been attracted to him for a long time. Long before he had moved to Brambleberry House, she had been nervous around him. She had told herself it was because of his position with the police department. Now she could admit it was because of the man himself.

His kiss staggered her.

Why? She had kissed other men, of course. Not counting the awful time in her youth that she didn’t like to think about, she had had boyfriends.

She wanted to think she had a healthy relationship now with men, with sex, especially after the counseling her parents had insisted on.

She didn’t blame all men for what had happened to her.

Even so, Rosa was fully aware that she usually gravitated toward a different sort of man. Someone who was not as masculine as Wyatt.

Those kind of men were the safer bet, she realized now. They didn’t threaten her. She always had held most of the control in every other situation.

Not with Wyatt. Kissing him felt like being caught in a riptide, as if she were whirling and spinning from forces beyond her control.

Sometimes when she saw the intensity between Lauren and Daniel, or her aunt Anna and Harry, Rosa wondered if she had something fundamental broken inside her.

She had assumed that the scars she bore so deeply inside made it impossible for her to feel that kind of passion.

Kissing Wyatt in this moment made her question every single one of those foolish assumptions.

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