“‘Tis why ye’re here in the first place,” he said.
He held her eyes. Heat and stubbornness sat there with patience he did not always wear. She hated that it steadied her. She loved it, too.
“Do ye want to kiss me?” he asked.
He did not make it a dare. He made it a plain question.
She let out a breath. “Doyewant to kiss me?” she asked back.
If he said no, she would laugh. If he said yes, she would have to live with it.
“More than anything in the world,” he rasped.
They did not close the distance between them. They stood there, strung tight across a table, both of them breathing like folks who had run and stopped at the same time.
Erica felt foolish and brave and alive in a way that made her knees want to buckle. She did not let them.
She could lean in right now and take his mouth in a kiss. She would only need to close the gap between them, which was nothing but a few inches.
Something told her he wanted her to do it as well. Hell, he wantedto do it himself. The way his gaze had darkened in just a few seconds was enough of a hint.
She opened her mouth to speak, ready to say something. To stop him, perhaps, or ask what he was waiting for. She did not get to speak when the lock clicked. The door swung wide like a trick hat, and laughter drifted in before the air moved. Bettie and Katie burst across the threshold with triumph on their faces.
“Did we get ye?” Bettie asked, breathless.
“That was our plan,” Katie said, hopping once like she could not hold the joy in her legs.
Erica’s head snapped toward them, then back to Alex, then to the girls again. She found her smile without searching.
“Masterminds,” she said, hand to her chest. “The pair of ye.”
Alex’s face went tight at the mouth and soft at the eyes. He stepped around the table, past Erica, and through the doorway. He did not say a word. He touched Bettie’s hair as he went, light as a blessing, and kept walking down the passageway.
The girls turned back to Erica, pleased with themselves. “We counted to a hundred,” Katie said, as if this had been the hard part.
“Twice,” Bettie added.
“Ye did fine,” Erica said. She meant it.
Her voice shook a bit. She hoped they did not hear it.
Footsteps sounded behind the girls, and Grandmamma came to the threshold with her cane and a smile that always held more than it showed.
“All right, ye wee soldiers,” she said. “Time for yer rest. Say goodnight to the books.”
“Goodnight, books,” both girls sang, obedient in mischief.
Grandmamma’s gaze slid to Erica and stayed there for a moment. “Everything all right, dear?” she asked mildly.
“Aye,” Erica said softly. “Thank ye.”
Grandmamma nodded, satisfied or polite, and shepherded the girls away with a touch to each shoulder. Their laughter trailed down the hall and thinned, then bounced back once from a far wall.
Erica stood alone in the doorway. The library looked no different. The table stood where it had. The late light had dropped another inch. Her chest hurt the way it hurts when a tight band is loosened too fast.
She told herself the game had been harmless. She told herself the moment had been just something trivial. Something that didn’t need to be expanded or thought about over and over again.
A sliver of doubt slid under both thoughts and found a place to rest.
