It’s not soft. Not tentative.
It’s claiming.
His mouth crashes against mine with enough force to knock the fight right out of my body. One hand tangles in my hair, the other splayed across the small of my back, anchoring me to his muscled frame.
My brain short-circuits. Wylder Howe is kissing me.
Whyis Wylder kissing me? Is it to shut down Amber? A distraction to settle me down? But in the stomach-flipping clutch of the moment, the question loses importance.
Holy crapamoly, this man knows how to kiss.
His lips are firm, warm, tasting faintly of cinnamon from the cider we drank earlier. The scent of pine and earth surrounds me, grounding me even as my heart tries to beat its way out of my chest.
I forget about Amber. About the crowd. About everything except the way his thumb strokes along my jaw, gentle despite the intensity of the kiss.
How long has it been since a guy kissed me like this?
Too long.Waaaytoo long.
When he finally pulls back, his green eyes lock onto mine, dark and unreadable. “Ignore her. Let the noise of negativity fall into the background.”
My lips tingle, and I bring my fingers up to touch them, my thoughts still scattered like leaves in the wind.
Amber makes a strangled sound somewhere behind us.
Wylder doesn’t look at her. He keeps his gaze on me, his voice low. “You good?”
I blink. “I, yeah. Yeah, I’m good.”
He winks. “Good.”
Only then does he turn to Amber, his arm still around my waist. “Are we done here?”
Amber’s face is the color of a ripe tomato. Her hands clench into fists at her sides. “Picking her over me is a huge mistake, Wylder. You’ll regret this.”
My brain finally comes back online, and I find my voice. “Careful, Amber. My mom always said, ‘You need to be humble in life or life will humble you.’“
Amber’s eyes narrow. “Is that a threat?”
“It’s advice. Take it or leave it.”
Amber scoffs, spins on her heel, and storms off with her posse trailing behind her like remoras.
As she passes a cluster of apple crates and decorative hay bales, I flick my fingers, murmuring the words to a spell Rowan taught me for ‘petty vindication purposes.’
A sudden gust of wind swirls up from beneath Amber’s skirt, lifting it Marilyn Monroe style. She shrieks, slapping her hands down to hold the fabric in place as festival-goers turn to stare.
Her friends scramble to shield her, but it’s too late. The spell lasts five minutes, and Amber will need to find a washroom or race back to her car if she doesn’t want half the county to see whether she prefers boy short undies or a thong.
Asher barks out a laugh beside me. “Oh, that’s beautiful. Chef’s kiss, P.”
I can’t help the grin spreading across my face. “Be humble or be humbled.”
Wylder’s hand slides from my waist as he steps back, but not before I catch the flicker of amusement tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Come on, Hallowind. Let’s get out of here before you cause a scene.”
Asher snorts. “Beforeshecauses a scene? That ship has sailed, Captain Broody, because that kiss was fire. Sizzling, panty-melting fire.”
No kidding.I meet Wylder’s gaze, a dozen questions fighting for dominance in my scrambled thoughts. “Yeah, what the hell was that kiss about?”
