“No. It’s just an anecdote. About sisters.”
Although we were no longer dancing, neither of us moved away. At this distance, he hardly had to raise his voice above a whisper. “You know, if your sister marries my sister, we’ll be related.”
“I already have a brother. One is plenty.”
He gave an exaggerated sigh. “And here I was dreaming of family holidays. Group photos. Summer vacations.” I rolled my eyes, which only seemed to encourage him. “You and me, Merrily. Roasting chestnuts in our matching holiday sweaters.”
“Have you ever actually roasted a chestnut? They’re impossible to peel and you end up stabbing yourself in the cuticle about a hundred times. It’s a nightmare.”
The corners of his mouth twitched. “So much for that fantasy.”
I squeezed my eyes shut. “I can be a little bit of a wet blanket sometimes.”
When he didn’t respond, I took a breath, thinking maybe I should explain what I meant—and then his mouth touched mine.
My eyes flew open. He was already pulling away, the contact so fleeting it was over as soon as it began. “Why did you do that?”
He seemed bemused by the question. “You tell me, Merrily.”
“Um, shock value?” I racked my brains for another possibility. “Or maybe because I was being pathetic, and you wanted to change the subject?”
Alex smoothed the hair back from his forehead. “I can’t say I gave it that much thought.”
“So it was like an accident.”
“I didn’t trip and land on your mouth, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“An impulse, then,” I suggested. “Like walking past a bakery and thinking, ‘Hey, I could go for a doughnut’?”
“Are you calling yourself a doughnut, Merrily?”
I was too busy wondering which kind I would be to answer. Apple fritter? Jelly-filled? No, wait: an old-fashioned.
“You’re frowning, Merrily. Was that ... not okay?”
“Hmm? Oh. No, it was fine.” Except I wished he’d given me a little notice, so I could have concentrated. The whole experience had been so abbreviated that when I tried to summon the memory, all that came to mind was a hint of softness, followed by a mild heart attack.
“Fine?” he repeated.
I lifted a hand to rub the lower half of my face before remembering my lipstick. “You know what I mean.”
“I don’t actually.”
“I wasn’t offended,” I assured him, since that seemed to be his primary concern.
“Uh-huh. So it was ‘fine’ and also inoffensive?”
“I’m not saying it wasbad,” I clarified. “Just different. From what I expected. Not that I expected you to—you know. But if I had, I would have thought it would be more, you know.” I broke off, searching for the right word. “Elaborate.”
Without breaking eye contact, he raised my hand to his lips and placed a kiss above the knuckles. “More like that, maybe?”
I swallowed. “Maybe.”
Turning my hand over, he pressed his mouth to the center of my palm. “Or this?”
I gave a microscopic shrug, not trusting myself to speak.
“What about this?” he murmured, brushing a kiss against my cheek. “Is that how they do it in your books?” He dipped his head, breathing a feather-light kiss at the base of my neck.
