I couldn’t remember the last time my mom had smiled so much either.
Even Oma and Grandma seemed happier when they sat down to a table laden with bacon and eggs and French toast.
Landon Edwards was magic.
After dinner, Mom insisted on doing the dishes herself. “You and Landon worked so hard,” she said. “Relax.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. He’s a keeper, huh?”
My ears burned.
“Thanks.”
I pulled Landon away from the living room, where he was telling Oma about the Wuyi we’d tasted (Oma was a big oolong fan), and led him up to my room.
“Hey,” he said when I closed the door and turned back to him.
“Hey. Thank you.”
“Sure.”
I wrapped my arms around him and rested my chin in his hair.
“This was really nice.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Everyone was so happy.”
Landon’s eyes twinkled. “I like making your family happy.”
“Thank you.” I leaned down and kissed him.
His mouth still tasted a bit like bacon, but I kind of liked it.
I led him to my bed and scooted into the corner, letting him rest against my chest. I wrapped my arms around him, kissed his cheek, his jaw, his neck, and then I rested my head against his and closed my eyes.
I loved cuddling with Landon.
But it always turned into kissing sooner or later.
This time was no different: After a few minutes, Landon shifted and brought his lips toward mine. He was so slow anddeliberate and tender, with the way he ran his hands through my hair, and grazed my lips with his, and rested his forehead against mine.
I kind of melted.
When he pulled away, his lips were puffy, and his cheeks were flushed, and his eyes were soft like a cat’s. He smiled and reached out for me, taking my hand and pulling it toward his stomach. He slipped our hands under his shirt. The hairs above his waistband tickled my palm.
My breath hitched.
“Is this okay?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” I whispered.
“Can I do it to you?”
I shook my head.
