Page 51 of Reluctantly Married

“Which was?”

He bit back a grin. “I double dog dare you to kiss me.”

Megan giggled. “Not very original, were you?”

“Nope. But it worked. She stopped, turned around and looked at me for a moment, like she couldn’t decide if she was going to do it or not.”

“She must have, since this is the story of your first kiss.” Megan’s eyes twinkled.

“You’re right. She took two steps toward me, and said, ‘Okay.’ Then she closed her eyes and puckered her lips. I planted one on her so fast, she probably thought I socked her. Then I turned to see Mrs. Zuckerman and the entire fourth grade English class lined up along the windows, watching us.”

Megan laughed. “No way! What happened?”

“We got in trouble for leaving the playground. But good thing it happened back then. Today I’d have been charged with sexual assault.”

“Sad, but true.” Megan picked up her fork and stabbed a piece of asparagus. “Well, your story beats mine.”

Curiosity piqued in him. “Fess up.”

She chewed, then swallowed. “It’s boring compared to yours.”

“Too bad. You have to tell it now.”

“I was sixteen, and on my first date. Harry Davis. A skinny kid with freckles.” She picked up her water glass. “He kissed me on the doorstep after the date.”

“That’s it?”

“Told you it was boring.” She smiled, then took a sip of her water.

“What a letdown.”

She glanced at the camera. “Remind me to tell you sometime about my second kiss. Much more entertaining.”

The gleam in her eye made him chuckle. “You got it.”

Megan punched the pillow in her mansion room and rolled over…again. Why was she so restless? That stupid trust exercise had her stomach all tied up in knots. What was Leon thinking, that they’d really share all that personal stuff on national television? He had some nerve.

Her stomach growled, and she looked at the clock. Three fifteen. The halibut had been delicious, but not as filling as she’d hoped. And since she had no chance of falling back asleep anytime soon, she slid out of bed and pulled on her robe. Maybe there was something in the kitchen she could snack on.

The hallway was dark, only lit by a sliver of moonlight shining through a small decorative window high on the far wall. She padded down the back staircase and through another hall that led to the kitchen. The cold tile reminded her she’d forgotten to put on slippers.

She opened the refrigerator, and the bright light hit her in the face. She was standing there blinking, staring at the blurry contents, when a voice behind her made her jump.

“Looks like I’m not the only one who couldn’t sleep.”

She squealed and turned to face Adam, who wore flannel pajamas and a smirk on his face. “Adam! You scared me.”

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.” He took a step toward her, his hair tousled in a sexy bed-head way. “Anything good in there?”

She turned back around, her heart hammering in her chest, not entirely from alarm. “I don’t know. My eyes hadn’t adjusted yet.”

He grabbed the door and opened it wider, his body now so close she could sense his warmth. “Hmm. Grapes?”

She shook her head. “No. Middle of the night snacks shouldn’t be healthy.”

A chuckle came from behind her. “Pudding?”

She peered into the light, still unable to see anything. “What flavor?”

---