“Yes?”
“We’re sitting in a car outside my family’s house, and if you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to—” He cuts himself off and closes his eyes. “Christ.”
“You asked! And you’re going to… what?” My heart’s pounding so hard I can hear it.
When he opens his eyes again, the look in them makes my stomachflip.
“I’m going to forget that you deserve to be courted properly. That this is your first date. That I promised myself I’d take things slow with you.” His voice is rough, strained. “That I’ve been raised to be a gentleman. I’m going to reach over there and?—”
“And what?”
He makes a sound low in his throat. “You’re killing me, lass.”
“I’m just asking questions.”
“You’re playing with fire.” He shifts in his seat, and I notice his knuckles are white where he’s gripping the steering wheel again. “And you don’t even know it.”
“Maybe Idoknow it.”
His head snaps toward me. “What?”
I’m not sure where this bravery is coming from. Maybe it’s the way he apologized. Maybe it’s seeing him be gentle and fierce all at once. Maybe it’s just that I’m tired of being afraid.
“Maybe I know exactly what I’m doing,” I say, and I’m shocked by how steady my voice sounds.
For a long moment, he just stares at me. Then he reaches over, so slowly I could stop him if I wanted, and cups my jaw with one hand.
And the buzzing in my head comes to a full, deliciousstop.My eyelids flutter closed as he whispers, “You have no idea what you’re asking for,” he murmurs, his thumb tracing my lower lip.
I look up at him and swallow hard. “Thentellme.”
His eyes drop to my mouth. “I want to kiss you properly. Not because you’re upset or because I’m apologizing. I want to kiss you because I can’t stop thinking about it. Aboutyou.”
My breath hitches. “So do it.”
“If I start—” His thumb stills. “If I start, I won’t want to stop at just kissing.”
“Good.”
“Erin.”
“I’m not a child, Cavin. I know what I want. And we’re going to be married.”
His hand slides around to the back of my neck, his fingers tangling gently in my hair. “You seemed scared back at St. Albert’s. Now you’re looking at me like you want me to ruin you.”
The words should shock me, should make me pull back. Instead, they send heat pooling low in my belly.
“Maybe I do,” I whisper.
He makes that sound again—half groan, half growl. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
“Is that a yes or a no?”
Instead of answering, he pulls me toward him. The center console is between us, awkward and in the way, but I don’t care because his mouth is on mine.
This kiss is nothing like the one at the school.
That one was apology, desperation, promise.
