But I can’t exactly tell her that.
Although, if I have a few more drinks, I just might.
Maybe coming to the bar was a bad idea.
“I’m sure your life is much more interesting than mine,” I tell her.
“My life’s not that interesting. Hell, tonight’s the first night I’ve spent away from Sycamore Falls since I opened the inn.” She angles toward me in her barstool, the movement causing her knee to brush against mine.
It shouldn’t cause this kind of reaction inside of me, but I can’t ignore the jolt of electricity from the brief touching of our bodies, a spark igniting deep in my soul. I haven’t felt this way around another woman in years. Haven’t had this kind of response to another woman. I didn’t think I ever would again.
“What do you want to know?” I clear my throat.
Normally, I don’t like talking about myself. Like I told her, my life isn’t that interesting. Sure, I travel a lot. In the past year, I can count on one hand the number of weeks I’ve actually spent in my San Francisco apartment. I like being able to see the world, find properties that can make Daniel and me even richer.
“How old were you when you first kissed a girl?” Parker asks after a protracted pause.
“That’swhat you want to know?”
“Just trying to figure you out. What makes you tick.” She inhales a sharp breath, eyes widening. “Unless your first kiss was with a boy. I didn’t mean to assume. I’m not judging. If you ask me, love is love.”
Despite every voice in my head warning me this is a bad idea, I lean toward her, surrounding myself in her addictive scent of apples and cinnamon.
“All of my kisses have been with women, Ms. Holley,” I say in a low voice, lingering for several protracted seconds, my gaze falling to the vein throbbing on her neck. What I wouldn’t give to drag my tongue along her throat, dig my teeth into her flesh, feel her tremble against me, leaving her completely breathless.
I pull back to observe the effect I have on her. Her breathing grows more uneven, her lips parting as she squirms in her seat, uncrossing and re-crossing her legs.
Which only brings my attention to them.
“Sadie O’Connor,” I announce, taking a big swallow of my drink. Truthfully, I’m surprised I answered her. Then again, I needed to do something to stop myself from thinking about Parker’s legs. Still, saying that name doesn’t hurt as much as I thought it would.
“What’s that?” she replies breathlessly.
“My first real kiss was Sadie O’Connor. I passed her a note during fourth period English in seventh grade asking if she’d be my girlfriend. When she agreed, I told her I was going to kiss her that Friday after we got off the bus. She lived right next door to me.”
“So you were the boy next door.” She playfully waggles her brows.
“I was the boy next door,” I repeat with a grin.
“And you scheduled your first kiss?”
“What can I say?” I shrug. “I’ve always been a planner. But Sadie was definitely more spontaneous.” A nostalgic smile tugs on my lips. “You remind me of her in that respect. She’d probably do what you’re doing, manifesting a solution to a problem.”
“I think I like this Sadie,” Parker remarks, taking another sip from her glass.
I swallow hard, biting back my remark that she probably wouldn’t if she knew the entire story.
“After I told her of my intentions,” I continue, pushing down the memory of how everything fell apart, “she grabbed my cheeks and asked why I wanted to wait because she didn’t. She kissed me right there in the school hallway, which was a big no-no and landed us both in detention for the entire week.”
Parker throws her head back and laughs. “That’s a great story.”
I nod, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. Itisa great story. One I’d hoped to be able to share with our children one day.
Too bad it didn’t end like I’d hoped.
“So what about you? Who was the first boy you kissed?” I ask, even though the idea of anyone kissing her makes me oddly jealous. I just need to think about something other than my first kiss. My first everything, really.
“I like women,” she deadpans.
