We lean toward each other, and she snaps a few Polaroids. That wasn’t so bad. We start to move away when she says, “All right, let’s see some love now. Give us a kiss for the camera.”
Will and I exchange wide-eyed glances, our hands still linked together. My heart begins to race as I try to stifle my panic.Thiswas not part of the plan. And if I’m not mistaken, Will is every bit as shocked as I am.
“Um.” He hesitates, his deep brown eyes searching mine. “We’re pretty private. I don’t think—”
“Bah.” The man waves at this. “Don’t be silly.”
“Besides,” the woman sings merrily, utterly unaware of our discomfort, “no kiss, no ring, and it’s closing time.”
She positions her camera, and Will squeezes my hand ever so slightly. Is this his way of asking permission?
“Come on now. Don’t be bashful.” The woman winks. “It’s tradition!”
I turn toward Will at the moment he shifts toward me. Our faces are inches apart. My breath hitches as his wide brown eyes seem to draw me in. He releases my hand and slides his fingers up my arm to my elbow. Of its own accord, my hand moves to brush his side. He lifts a brow, a question on his face.
“Okay,” I whisper, my voice barely audible.
He leans toward me, and my eyes drift closed. Our lips meet hesitantly at first, the initial contact sending unexpected sparks through my body. As his lips move against mine, all thoughts of our current predicament fade. I rise onto my toes, my fingers gripping his hideous shirt. His free hand moves to my neck, his thumb brushing my jaw. And what was supposed to be a brief moment turns into something else.
When our lips finally separate and my eyelids flutter open, neither of us moves away.
Wow.
“All right. That’s enough, lovebirds!” The man’s laughter breaks through our reverie, causing us to jump apart. “I thought you were private.” He chortles again, and my cheeks burn as I attempt to steady my breathing.
“Sorry,” I mutter. Could today be more embarrassing?
The woman continues to snap photos. “Oh, we know what it’s like to be young and in love.”
Will chuckles, and I track the feeling as his hand slides back down my forearm to intertwine our fingers again.
“Here you go.” The man hands over the ring and a few photos. “We wish you all the best.”
Will takes them, and the woman ushers us toward the door. “Yes, have a lovely wedding day. And do drive carefully.”
“Thank you. We will.” Will’s voice is steadier than I expect, seeing as I still don’t trust myself to put coherent words together.
He pockets the ring and opens the door with a ding, pulling me out onto the sidewalk. After one more wave, the woman locks up.
We stand, linked by our fingers, staring at Hudson’s familiar truck.
“Well—” Will starts, but he can’t seem to find the right words.
“Yeah.” Apparently, neither can I.
He releases my hand, and we separate, walking to each side of the cab. Our gazes meet briefly over the hood. As we slide into our seats, I press my fingers to my still-tingling lips.
That was…unexpected.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
WILL
The sun blazes in the afternoon sky, casting sharp blades of light over the crooked road as we drive back into Carlton Landing. A palpable tension overrides our silence, both of us reeling. Or at least I am.
I grip the steering wheel, knuckles white. I should say something. Anything. But what?
She seems lost in thought. With the open and vulnerable expression from earlier gone, her indifferent mask is back in place.
