Page 66 of Good Girl's Guide to Love
And I think he wanted to kiss me.
I had this thought that night as well, but I chalked it up to the romantic setting of the moonlight hitting the river and the show we’d been putting on for whoever Katie sent to follow us. But seeing this? Now I’m not so sure.
Could he? No. He’s been adamant about this not being real. But would he have done it for the plot? Maybe. But would he have looked at me like this? If so, maybe his job after football should be acting, because just looking at this picture, my body is tingling and the butterflies are butterflying.
Snap.
“Why’d you do that?”
Biscuits!I didn’t think anyone was paying attention to me when I pulled on my handy dandy rubber band. “Nervous habit I’ve developed. Anyway, how is everyone?”
Maeve’s eyebrow raise tells me she doesn’t buy it, but luckily my oldest sister doesn’t press on. “I’m fine. But don’t think you’re off the hook just yet.”
“Yes. Because I need to know if this look led to a kiss, because holy shit that look almost got me pregnant.”
“You have a man, Quinn,” Stella says. “I’m sure Porter will get you good and pregnant whenever you’re ready.”
“Oh no,” she says, setting Grace up on the floor in front of us with a host of toys. “Was just a figure of speech, baby sister. Miss Ma’am here is all we can handle for a little while.”
As if on cue, Grace lets out an excited shriek, clapping her hands for extra effect. Because we’re dutiful aunts, we return the applause, and for just a minute, I think that the spotlight is off of me and onto the cute toddler.
I could only be so lucky.
“Okay, so was there like, a lot of tongue? He’s one of those guys that takes your face in his hands and puts you where he wants you, isn’t he?”
“For fuck’s sake, Quinn…”
“What!” she exclaims to Maeve. “I’ve been waiting years, emphasis on the plural form of year, to have this kind of talk with Ainsley. Years!”
“We were out in public,” I say, which isn’t a lie. I know where Quinn wants to take this conversation, and I hate to tell my sister she’s about to be vastly disappointed.
“That didn’t stop you at the karaoke bar.”
I level a look to Stella, who’s giving me a fake-innocent smile. “That was extenuating circumstances.”
“So what you’re saying is that if you’re drunk, you’ll kiss in public?”
“Really, Maeve? You too?”
She just shrugs and sits back with her wine glass in hand. “Just calling it like I see it.”
“Fine,” I concede. “Yes, the kissing in public was a product of what was a crazy night and random circumstances that I guarantee will never happen again. From here on out, all kissing that I choose to do will be in private.”
“I don’t know,” Stella says. “If Emmett looked at me like that? I don’t know if I could’ve waited for privacy.”
I might say I wanted privacy, but Stella’s not wrong. I wouldn’t have cared if cameras were right next to me. A full country concert could’ve been playing behind us, and I probably wouldn’t have known. If Linc would’ve kissed me in that moment, I’d have been done for. And no rubber band could’ve snapped me out of it.
“Well, we did,” I fib, because I can’t tell them that he didn’t. That would make them ask more questions. “And it was a very nice kiss.”
“Nice?” Quinn asks as she reaches over to grab a slice of pepperoni. “You say nice about flowers. Actually no, nice is reserved for a bouquet of carnations or an ugly sweater that Great Aunt Doris knitted for you that you have to pretend to like.”
“We have a Great Aunt Doris?” I ask.
“Is she the one on mom’s side who makes the pies but the crust is always burnt?”
Maeve shakes her head to Stella. “No, that’s Dad’s cousin, Leslie.”
“We don’t have a Great Aunt Doris! It was hypothetical and not the point!” Quinn takes a few calming breaths and assures Grace that everything is okay. “All I’m saying is that if a kiss with Linc is only nice, then one of you is doing something wrong.”
