Ah, indeed.
Lottie swallowed.
Just apologize and be done with it, she told herself. You cannot go back to being friends until you do.
She pressed a hand to her midriff and straightened her spine.
Grandmère had not raised a milksop.
“I owe you an apology, Cousin Alex.” Once she managed that much, the words spilled out in a rush. “I should not have behaved as I did. I shall not excuse my behavior, as it was reprehensible, but I only wish to—”
“Reprehensible?” he interrupted.
Somehow, Lottie’s biology found a way to fan the flames of her blush even hotter.
She pressed harder on her stomach, as if that simple act could keep her embarrassment from exploding.
Was he going to make her say it?
The pinched brows over his gray eyes said that, yes, perhaps, he was.
Lottie closed her own eyes and whispered, “I kissed you.”
Silence.
And then again—
“Ah.”
Her eyes flew open.
Cousin Alex looked at her with . . . amusement? fondness?
She didn’t know.
“I noticed,” he continued. “The kiss, I mean.”
Oh. Let me die now.
Lottie swallowed.
“I apologize,” she whispered.
“Apology accepted,” he nodded.
And then he turned and made another lap around the room.
As if, truly, they had just put the kissing incident behind them.
As if . . . that was it.
Done and dusted.
Lottie blinked.
Huh.
Men.
