Page 75 of The Lost Book of First Loves

To her surprise, she gave a ragged-sounding laugh. “You’re probably right.”

“You are a smart, beautiful, courageous woman, Juniper Connelly. Any man would be lucky to be a part of your life.”

She gazed at him, his sharp, handsome features beginning to blur in the fading light.

Awareness suddenly bloomed between them again, as bright and vibrant as the wildflowers carpeting the meadows around the mountain lake.

She wanted to kiss him. Not only because of the sweetness of his words, but also because some part of her subconscious had been thinking about it all day.

Without thinking through all the ramifications, she leaned forward and pressed her mouth to his.

It was a slow kiss, quiet and sweet, but she felt the heat of it seep through every pore.

He tasted of mint and cranberries and his mouth was as cool and refreshing as the mountain lake.

She knew this was a mistake, but it felt so good to be kissed, to feel that sparkle in her veins and feel completely alive.

Desire for him had been simmering at a low burn all day, and now it seemed to bubble over. She knew she shouldn’t give in, that she should pull away, but she couldn’t do it. Too much had been taken from her. Couldn’t she have this, if only for a moment?

Chapter 25

Beckett

He shouldnotbe doing this.

The thought pushed in at the edges of his subconscious. She was fragile, emotionally and physically. He knew that, but somehow he couldn’t seem to stop himself.

He wrapped his arms around her and deepened the kiss, tasting her breathless response.

She sighed against his mouth, her arms sliding around his neck, and he could feel the tremor in her touch. It sent a shiver through him, a reminder of just how delicate this moment was. He should pull away. Every rational thought yelled at him to stop, but her mouth was soft, so inviting, and she pressed closer, dissolving his will with each passing second.

His heart raced and the mountains around them blurred, leaving only the sound of their breathing and his pulse pounding in his ears.

He knew better. He knew this wasn’t the time, wasn’t what she needed, yet with her in his arms, all the reasons to stop faded, replaced by the undeniable need to be closer still.

They might have kissed until long past sunset except Hank, bless him, barked at a squirrel or a bird or something. June froze in his arms and then slid away from him.

They gazed at each other for a long moment and then she shook her head.

“Sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“Why not?”

“You don’t need to kiss me because you feel sorry for me.”

He made a sound that came out halfway between a laugh and a growl. “Is that what you think that was? I promise, I was feeling several things during that kiss, but I didn’t feel sorry for you a bit. I wanted to kiss you. I wanted to kiss you earlier today. And last night. I still want to kiss you.”

He almost told her about how much he had wanted to do much more with her there beside the lake, about the raw desire that still surged through his blood.

He bit down on the words and tried to ease the sudden awkwardness with lightness.

“When a guy finds himself alone with a beautiful woman in such a romantic setting, a mountain lake at sunset, he’s almost morally obliged to kiss her, isn’t he?”

As he hoped, she rolled her eyes and the tension passed, though he doubted either of them would soon forget that heated embrace.

“I told you the lake was spectacular at sunset, didn’t I?”

She turned her attention to the water and they both watched the play of colors across the lake. He was happy to see she ate more of her sandwich and even managed a few baby carrots.

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