The scene in the hallway fills my mind. Grey’s woodsy scent on the shirt that I wear fills my nose. And I’m all out of cookie dough, otherwise, it would fill my mouth instead of memories of our wedding day kiss.
Taking out my diary, across the top, I writeThe Kiss List: The pros and cons of kissing my husband. As we stood there, it felt like we might kiss again...or at least we were both thinking of the original one. I’m a save-the-best-for-last kind of gal, so I start with the cons column. In it goes:
We married for convenience
I don’t want to risk my job
Shouldn’t rush into anything since I’m fresh off the runaway bride train
We established some rules, but not for this
I’m notoriously terrible at keeping secrets
The risk of things not working out between us (my heart is a bit fragile at themo)
As for the pros column, I write:
Kissing Grey on our wedding day was the kiss that ruined all other kisses for me
I light up when he touches me and could power a small city if we were to kiss again—I consider this a public service
He smells so good and all I want is to get closer to the scent like a hound dog
