He shook his head. “I meant to, but then…”
She nodded. “Everything happened so fast.”
And byeverything, she meant everything since the moment they’d met. Going from thinking he was a person to fear, to trusting him, to wanting him, and now loving him.
And still, she couldn’t be sure that he felt the same.
But he was here now, and he was right. They needed to talk. But first…
“Kiss me?” she asked, rising onto her toes to meet him halfway.
She didn’t have to wait for an answer, because he was already there.
“Hell yes.” He growled the words against her mouth right before his tongue dipped between her lips. Nothing about this kiss was tentative or rushed. And although his taste was more exciting than ever, it was also delicious and familiar.
He was her home.
She squeezed his hands, humming a little, straining to be closer.
She could never get close enough. His calloused fingers squeezed right back, and every inch of her skin felt like singing.Mr. Beckworth.
There was nothing proper about her feelings for this man. She wanted to climb him—cling to him with her arms and her legs.
She would have been scared of these feelings if she’d had them for anyone else.
She couldn’t imagine feeling these feelings for anyone but him.
One of the horses nearby let out a sharp whinny, reminding them where they were. In public.
Mr. Beckwith stilled, breaking the kiss. Amelia relaxed and dropped her forehead onto his shoulder. She felt the rise and fall of his chest as they breathed in tandem.
Talk. They were going to talk.
“I can’t believe you’re here,” she said. And then she forced herself to stand on her own. She met his gaze directly.
Staring back, he seemed as determined to keep hold of her hands as she was to never let go.
He narrowed his eyes a little, not in a suspicious way but in the way that she knew meant he was thinking. “Come with me,” he finally said.
He dropped one of her hands but maintained his grip on the other, leading her out of the carriage house.
But when she realized he intended to take her into the inn, she stopped, refusing to follow blindly. “My mother’s inside.”
“I know. I have private quarters, though. Downstairs.”
Of course. He owned this inn!
And knowing they would finally have the privacy she’d craved the evening before, she practically skipped alongside him.
Passing through an entrance she hadn’t noticed earlier, they strolled through a long corridor. He took a moment to unlock a door at the end and then ushered her into a clean and well-furnished chamber. Dropping her hand, he seemed to be waiting for her approval.
It wasn’t luxurious, but it was practical. The chairs looked sturdy and comfortable, and the bed, big and soft.
If she were to choose the perfect place to have this conversation, it very well might be this room.
Strong and cozy. A little like this man. “I like it.”
“Good.”
