Then he lowered his head to kiss her hand, his eyes still intent on her.
Oh! Was she asleep? If so, let her never awake from this delicious dream.
“Emma-Jane, if I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more,” he said in a low voice. “But you know what I am. You hear nothing but truth from me. And you know that I haveblamed you and lectured you and you have borne it as no other woman would have. But you understand me, and I understand you, dearest, sweetest, most beloved Emma.”
She couldn’t speak, too afraid of puncturing this perfect moment. Just drew closer still until the heat of his body warmed the length of her.
The sweetness of his words—had he really called her his beloved?—had stolen all hers. She could only stare at him, into the sparkling depths of his eyes that had always seen straight into her soul, her smile a little wobbly, her heart still a little unbelieving. Was this real or simply her best dream ever?
Then he tilted his head, and she closed her eyes and felt his lips graze her cheeks, the slight rasp of his stubble abrading her skin, his breath wisping warmth over her face, before his lips found hers in a moment of sweet bliss.
One caress turned into two. Then she was sliding her arms around his shoulders, pressing in eagerly, meeting his hunger with her own. Oh, she could never get enough of him. How could she not have known what a great kisser he was? He kissed with what felt like tender fierceness, like he’d waited a lifetime to pour out his affection. Which only increased her desire to show him the same.
Eventually she needed air, so she drew back, breathing unsteadily, as they stared at each other.
His mouth curved. She echoed it.
“Is this okay?” he asked tentatively.
“Are you kidding? That was the best kiss of my life.”
He smiled. “The only kiss of my life.”
“Really?” she whispered, her breath clouding white.
He nodded.
Well, a statement like that deserved its own special brand of acknowledgement, which she was happy to do. “I could do this for the rest of my life,” she whispered against his lips.
“I think we should,” he murmured back, as fireworks exploded behind them.
Fireworks behind them, above them, between them, within them. She would never get tired of kissing this man.
Laughter finally caused her to pull away, where Elinor and Katie watched, with arms folded and matching huge grins.
“Are you two all right over there?” Emma-Jane called.
“Obviously not as all right as you two.” Elinor smirked.
“Oh, it’s so sweet to see you two have finally worked things out.” Katie clapped her hands. “We should see if Liv and Liam want a double wedding.”
Emma-Jane snuggled into Jordan’s side, where she could tell he was holding back laughter. “Calm the farm, Katie.”
“Oh, this farm is calm. Apart from the fireworks.” Katie winked.
“Jordan, you’ll need to forgive Katie,” Elinor said. “She’s as much of a matchmaker as Emma-Jane or Mum.”
“I’m looking forward to seeing you meet your match one day,” he said, pointing at her. “Seeingbothof you find your Mr. Rights.”
Elinor crossed her arms. “You’ll be waiting a long time, then.”
“Don’t count on it. If God can do this, then He can do anything, right?”
Katie sighed, clasping the scarf at her neck. “I can’t wait to meet my Mr. Right. I hope God brings him along soon, before I have to resort to using Dream Match.”
“I didn’t prove to be much of a matchmaker,” Emma-Jane mumbled.
“I disagree,” Elinor said. “You found your dream match, didn’t you?”
