Page 40 of Halstead House

I felt his hot breath on my ear as he chuckled. “Feeling shy?”

“I hardly know you,” I replied.

“Relax, Grace. You’re on island life now. No one here will think anything of two beautiful people dancing together.” He guided me into a twirl and brought me back up against him, stealing back the space I’d asked for. My mind stuttered over the fact that he’d called me beautiful. Of course, he’d called himself beautiful in the same sentence. “If you’re just uncomfortable because it’s me, well, I can back off.” He released me abruptly, taking a step back and holding only my hands as we swayed a foot or so apart.

His plan worked, and I laughed at the absurd picture we made, dancing like two sixth graders at their elementary school Valentine’s Day dance. I tugged on his hands and he quickly put his arms around me again.

“See, not so bad,” he said. I pulled a face but said nothing.

As we continued to dance so closely, I felt a new tension radiating from him that I’d never felt from a man before. His arm muscles seemed to alternate between flexing and relaxing as we moved, both holding me close and guiding me along. He was quiet, but it wasn’t a bored type of quiet; it was focused. It felt like it was focused on me, as though he was aware of every move I was making and trying to anticipate the next. Was this what it felt like when a man was attracted to you?

My mind was spinning as the song ended. Rather than walking me back to my table, Jonathan took my hand and asked me if I wanted to step out for some fresh air. I agreed as a bead of sweat ran down my forehead and into my eye. The room was crowded and warm, and my heart was pounding in an unfamiliar rhythm.

I signaled Ana from across the room, letting her know I was stepping outside with Jonathan. She waved. Jonathan tugged on my hand and wove his fingers through mine. I liked the feeling in the same way I had liked Ana’s hug. This connection to other people was something I’d wanted for a long time.

We walked out a side door and onto a raised veranda. It was a bit overcrowded as other people joined us in seeking some reprieve from the stale air inside. Jonathan held my hand and wove us through the crowd before leading me down the steps from the veranda. I wasn’t sure why we were leaving the open area until he turned sharply at the bottom of the stairs and walked into the welcome shade below. The veranda was high enough that we could both stand up straight. The blessed island breeze, combined with the shade, began its work of cooling us down.

Jonathan looked to me and his dazzling smile flashed. “You’re a better dancer than you give yourself credit for,” he said.

“Thank you. You did a great job leading me. It was fun to learn some new steps.”

“Oh yeah?” His voice had become a bit rough sounding.

“Yeah,” I replied, my eyebrows dropping in confusion.

He was close enough to my height for us to be nearly eye level. His sky blue eyes looked darker this close. I felt nerves zip up my back when he shuffled forward a step, but I held my ground.

“I’d really like to kiss you, Grace.” He reached out a hand to touch my cheek.

“Oh,” I breathed, startled.

“Is that okay?” His hand came to rest on my shoulder.

“I don’t know,” I whispered.

In hindsight, I should have seen it coming. I’d read enough romance novels and watched enough Hallmark channel to know that after dancing came kissing. Plus, honestly, the guy had taken me into a dark place away from other people. We were obviously not here for the shade. Logically, my astonishment didn’t make much sense. I suppose the surprise was becausethis stuff did not happen to me.

I didn’t even want to think about the last time I’d been kissed. Okay, I’d only been kissed one time in my entire life. The night of senior prom. And that had mostly happened because everyone got kissed on prom night and even though my date had been arranged by our mothers, he wanted a piece of the action that all the other kids were getting that night. It hadn’t been great, but it had technically been a kiss. Or two. Two awkward kisses. In fact, even thinking the name of that poor boy still made me shudder. I had the feeling kissing Jonathan would be very different. Did I want to kiss him?

His low voice brought my thoughts back to him. “Are you afraid?”

Yes. Definitely. Still, I was a bit affronted about him saying it. “No,” I stated.

“You sure?”

I thought maybe being kissed would be a nice thing. I was twenty-five years old, and while I was in no way falling for Jonathan, he was the only guy offering. Plus, I was trying so hard to say yes more often. Then again, if he’d asked me to jump off a cliff... Mother’s voice in my head verbally berated me over even considering kissing a man I had no feelings for. So, obviously, that meant I was going for it. I mean, I’d kissed that poor kid in high school and nothing bad had come of it.

I couldn’t make the words actually come out, so I just nodded. Jonathan’s eyes gleamed and his other hand came to rest on my face before moving slowly around to the back of my neck. He tugged gently and I closed my eyes in preparation. My body remained stiff, but I tried to relax my lips as he pressed his softly to mine.

It took me several breaths to decide if I was okay with him kissing me. When I decided I was, it took a couple more breaths to kiss him back. I haltingly opened up my senses, taking in the feel of his arms around me, the prickle of his beard growth coming in, the way his lips were softer than I’d have expected, and his obvious skill at kissing. This was nothing like Stuart, boy of prom fame. And I waited.

This was my moment. The worries of my first real kiss were behind me. I was choosing to engage in this kiss. It was butterfly and tingly feet time. And I waited.

Then the worry hit. Where were those darn butterflies? Why were the only tingles I was feeling the ones coming from my rib cage as I started to realize I couldn’t breathe? I was supposed to be transported, but I knew exactly where I was. In fact, I’d bet money that a girl on the veranda directly above me was wearing stiletto heels because of the sound it was making as she walked back and forth.

I knew it couldn’t be normal to think about someone else’s stiletto heels while I was given what I could only assume was a great kiss. But, sadly, there it was.

I pulled away as gently as I could and pasted a smile of contrition on my face, my lifelong habits instructing me to make sure I hadn’t caused any offense. I opened my mouth to apologize when it hit me that I had nothing to feel sorry for. It didn’t matter if he was going to be offended or not. I was done kissing him.

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