Page 50 of The Scent of Intuition
Only then did Alfie realize that his hands were on the small of her back and his arms closely wrapped around her body. It would have been scandalous if anyone had found them like this. Nick would probably never speak to him again if he knew how little restraint Alfie showed around Pippa’s cousin.
But then, why did she relax in his grasp?
Alfie felt more complete and at ease with her in his arms than when she was out of reach.
Like burned sugar turning into caramel, the moment thickened, and the sweetness of their contact developed a unique flavor that neither had until they came together—sweetness and heat that became a sticky mess—yet one that was delicious and irresistible.
Alfie flexed his biceps, and Bea met his gaze, making no effort to escape his grasp. Although she blushed and batted her lashes quickly, she remained in his arms.
Several of the curly flyaways that framed her face as a rose-golden halo had fallen in her face, and Alfie shifted her weight in his left arm, let go with his right, and brushed a strand of her soft hair out of her face, along her left cheeks, and then he tucked it behind her ear.
She sucked in her lower lip, and her gaze fell to his mouth.
She wants another kiss.
I want to kiss you, too.
*
Bea’s heart beatso fast in her chest it was as if it were an orchestra of percussions. It wasn’t until his gaze fell to her mouth that the cymbals slammed together.
Now that she knew how he kissed, she didn’t dare breathe lest she miss the moment his lips met hers.
His eyes, deep pools of longing, lingered on her lips, tracing the curve as if committing it to memory. Bea’s breath hitched, anticipation tightening its grip. She stood frozen, a statue poised on the brink of an awakening when Alfie leaned in again, erasing the distance.
Just as their lips hovered on the edge of touching, a voice cut through the kitchen’s enchanted silence.
“Alfie!” Wendy’s insistent and urgent call from the other room pierced the magic bubble they’d wrapped themselves in. It spoke of reality crashing back, of duty and demands that waited for no one, not even for two hearts teetering on the cusp of surrender.
Alfie’s response, a murmur barely audible, carried a weight heavier than the words themselves. “She can wait,” he said if he were speaking about his little sister and not Nick’s. Determination laced his tone, a declaration that nothing would drag him from this precipice—not duty nor expectation, for this sliver of time.
“Alfie, quick!” Wendy’s voice sounded closer.
Bea’s pulse soared. His words, a vow in the quiet of the evening, promised her everything. That she mattered more than the call of responsibilities, that this moment—they—were worth every second stolen from the world outside.
Their eyes locked, and the unspoken understanding of the kiss that didn’t happen flooded her senses like a rapid opening of a floodgate of emotion. In Alfie’s gaze, Bea saw the reflection of her resolve. She no longer saw the girl who hesitated and feared the fall. Instead, she recognized the woman who dared to leap, heart first, into forbidden pleasures.
With courage fueled by his assurance, Bea closed the gap. She didn’t care if she got caught, she was burning for Alfie. Her lips met his in a kiss that spoke of yearning held at bay, whispers shared in the quiet, and promises made under the cloak of night. It was a kiss that defied interruptions and honored the truth in their hearts.
In that kiss, time ceased to exist. There were no calls to answer, no world beyond the space they occupied in the kitchen. There was only Alfie and Bea and the realization that some moments were worth every risk.
“Alfie!” Wendy’s voice was an exhale as she arrived at the door.
Bea tore herself from Alfie’s mouth and dropped her head.
To her astonishment, instead of stepping away from her, Alfie held her and placed a kiss on her forehead.
“Yes, Wendy?” he grumbled when he finally melted away from Bea, his reluctance as obvious as the broken cups on the floor.
Wendy frowned, but Bea didn’t dare hold her gaze. She’d been found out.
Perhaps Wendy would tell Pippa.
Bea should be ashamed—but she wasn’t. Kissing Alfie was as necessary as letting her heart beat. It was the elixir of her essence, and when she was near Alfie, she was more herself than she’d ever been. No love potion or truth serum was necessary, for Alfie brought her nature to the surface without any chemistry support.
And she liked that version of herself.
Even if Wendy gave them a stern look.
