Page 24 of Now That It's You
It was right about the time I almost kissed you.
He thought about the other time that same urge had seized him, though circumstances had been much different. What if he’d acted on it then, kissing her senseless the way he’d desperately wanted to?
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“What?” It was Kyle’s turn to stare.
“Dinner.” She dabbed the corner of her mouth with a napkin and Kyle grabbed his plate to keep himself from grabbing her.
“Let me get the dishes.” He reached for her plate before he realized it was still loaded with piping hot food. She gave him a funny look and took the plate back, then set it down and speared a piece of asparagus.
God, he was losing it.
He sat back down, ordering himself to breathe deeply. He had to stop looking at her. He glanced to the side and saw Floyd staring at him from the barstool. Floyd narrowed his eyes and gave a low growl.
“Kyle, it’s okay,” she said.
“No, it’s not.”
“I’m not talking about the dishes. Or the cat.”
“Neither was I.”
She stared at him a moment, then nodded. “Do you want to pretend it never happened? The kiss, I mean.”
“Technically, it didn’t happen.”
Meg rolled her eyes. “Do you want to pretend it didn’t almost happen? Blame it on grief or Viognier or the aphrodisiac qualities of cinnamon.”
“Let’s do that.” Kyle folded his hands on the table, then unfolded them. He wanted to stand up and run out the door and he wanted to jump across the table to take Meg in his arms.
None of those seemed like a good idea at the moment.
He clenched his jaw, biting back the question he’d thought about asking her all evening. For three years, actually.
Do you remember that Thanksgiving when?—
No. Now wasn’t the time.
Meg took a sip of wine, then pushed back in her chair and walked to the kitchen. She pulled two copies of her aphrodisiac cookbook off the shelf, then turned and walked back to the dining room. As Kyle stood up, she handed them to him.
“Here you go. I can tell you’re ready to bolt from the house like it’s on fire, and I don’t want you to forget these.”
He shook his head. “Sorry, Meg.”
“I’m not. I got daisies and a great tip about a nervous habit I never knew I had.”
“Then we’ll go ahead and call it a win.” He tucked the cookbooks under one arm and stuck out his hand to shake hers. “I think I’d better say goodnight.”
She grabbed the hand and pulled him close, wrapping her arms around his middle. The squeeze she gave him was tight and warm and felt too damn good. “Don’t be an idiot,” she said. “We always hug goodbye, you big jerk.”
The hug felt so soft and familiar that Kyle dissolved into it, resting his chin on top of her head the way he used to. He breathed in the scent of her and tried to remember the last time he’d hugged her.
The day before the wedding. The day you ruined for everyone.
When Meg pulled away, he didn’t know whether he felt more relieved or disappointed.
“Don’t be a stranger,” she said.
