“Exactly,” I say, feeling a surge of validation, even as my heart races.
We stare at each other for a long, quiet moment, and my heart might be pounding louder than when I was woken up by police lights in the middle of the night.
Then, he does something I’m not expecting—he pulls his bottom lip in and chews on it for a moment, a classic move straight out of the novels I write. The sight of it makes me want to laugh, but the tension istoo real, too thick, and I wonder if he realizes how perfectly he’s fitting the role of my fictional hero right now.
Is he biting that lip on purpose? Has he read a romance novel?
There’s a sudden intrusive buzzing sound that makes Saint stand up straighter. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and glances down at the screen. His expression changes slightly, and when he looks back at me, his eyes are serious. “It’s my wife,” he says.
The words hit me like a splash of cold water, and I try not to let the disappointment show. I set down my wineglass, my fingers trembling slightly. “You should probably answer it,” I say, trying to sound casual, unaffected.
Saint also sets his wineglass on the counter beside him, his eyes still locked on mine. “You’re right. I should answer it.”
But he doesn’t.
Instead, he tosses the phone onto the counter, and before I can even process what’s happening, he closes the gap between us. In an instant, his hand slips behind my head, and his mouth is on mine.
The kiss happens so suddenly, so unexpectedly, that I gasp. His lips are warm, soft, and when his tongue slides into my mouth, it sends chills rolling down my spine. I press myself against him instinctively, my hands moving up to the sides of his neck as his lips close over mine.
He tastes like mint and merlot, a combination that sends my senses reeling. I know immediately that this is how I’ll describe Cam’s kiss in the book—this taste, this feeling, this moment.
His phone is still buzzing away on the counter, but all I can think about is the way he chose this kiss over answering her call. I was right, at least about that feeling. Reya would feel triumphant, like she’d won something she didn’t even know she was fighting for.
But the triumph comes with a heavy side of guilt, and that feeling starts to creep in almost as quickly. I can’t ignore the fact that his phone is buzzing because hiswifeis calling.
His literalwife.
And I won’t even allow my mind to start dissecting all the thingsIshould feel guilty for.
The phone finally stops vibrating, and in the silence that follows, the only sounds are the soft, intoxicating hum of his mouth moving against mine and the quiet moan that escapes from me without warning. His hand slides down to the small of my back, pulling me closer, and I press myself into him, lost in the heat of the moment.
But then, just as quickly as it began, the phone starts buzzing again, jerking us both back to reality.
Saint pulls away from me, his breath heavy as he presses his forehead to mine. I gasp for air, my chest rising and falling as I try to catch my breath.
No kiss has ever left me this breathless, this affected.
When I open my eyes, I see that his are still closed, as if he’s trying to hold on to the moment for just a little longer.
Did I really just allow that to happen?
I’m awful.
The phone keeps buzzing, an insistent reminder of the reality we’re trying to ignore.
And then Saint releases me and grabs his phone, his expression unreadable, and without another word, he walks to the door.
The door slams behind him, and I stand here, feeling the weight of the silence in the cabin. He filled me with so many emotions in that brief moment, only to rip them away just as quickly. Now, all I’m left with is this aching feeling in my chest—an emptiness I wasn’t expecting.
I ache for more of that kiss. More of his flirtation. More of that triumphant feeling.
I hear the gravel crunch beneath his tires as he pulls away from the house, and even after he’s been gone for several minutes, I’m still standing in the same spot, touching my lips with my fingertips, trying to process everything that just happened.
The reaction that surprises me the most right now is my smile. If I were to have written Reya and Cam’s first kiss last night, I never would have thought she would smile after he left the way he did.
But I’m smiling. Despite the guilt I feel for the betrayal, I’m somehow smiling because it doesn’t feel like I’ve done anything wrong. It’s research.Right?
Without thinking, I walk straight to my computer and open it. For the second night in a row, I sit down and immediately begin typing.
