“That’s nice, but I can be wrong—”
“Of course you can. But you’re usually not. You’re right about most things. You’re just good.”
He was trying to talk about the book. He really was. But Merritt kept cropping up in each sentence, each implication.
He took a breath. She took a breath. He could almost feel the heat of her body in the air between them.
Whit forced himself to speak.
“Can I—”
She leaned forward and kissed him, and he felt it from his lips to the back of his head, as if the kiss had gone through him. He leaned into it, so she’d know he was kissing her back. His hands cupped her face on either side, with hers moving to his ribs, and they stood that way, their bodies linked together in something warm and safe, until they both seemed to sense something at the same time, and they pulled apart.
She grinned. He grinned.
“We should—”
“There are people—”
They laughed. Merritt patted at her dress, as if to unruffle it, and Whit, needing to do something, reached for the ladle on the stove’s spoon rest before delivering it to the sink. He turned off the water and looked out the window, then glanced at the breakfast table, listening, before turning back to Merritt. She was waiting to see what he’d do—and what he did was grab her hand and kiss her once more on the lips as he squeezed that hand, hoping to intimate what he couldn’t say right now.I like you. I like this.
When they pulled away, they were both laughing.
“Well,” she said.
“Well.”
She took a deep breath. “We should finish cleaning up.”
He did a mock bow by way of assent.
“If it’s your idea, I like it.”
Merritt pointed at him. “Don’t get cheesy on me, Longacre.”
Whit smiled. “I’ll try my best.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Act normal, act normal, act normal, Whit told himself as the party stood in the entry hall, saying their goodbyes. Kathleen was cupping Annie by the chin, looking down at her like a good witch uttering a blessing. The Barrett-Linds had left earlier to pop in on Adrienne’s cousins a town over, and Édouard had taken on washing the dessert dishes in the kitchen, but Evie was there, saying goodbye to Merritt while keeping one eye trained on Whit. He was stewing in his awkwardness as he tried desperately to tamp down the frenetic energy he felt in all of him.
They had kissed. They had actually kissed, and something had passed between them, and then they hadn’t been able to talk about it. Annie had come looking for them, wanting to show them Édouard’s game, right as Adrienne and Kathleen were returning from their walk. So Whit had spent the next several hours playing cards, eating pie, and finally, half-watching their first Christmas movie of the season (A Muppet Christmas Carol, Annie’s choice), when all he’d wanted to be doing wastalking to Merritt about how they had just kissed.
Now he was waiting to say goodbye while his sister lurked in the distance with a sinister smirk on her face. And here was Merritt.
“See you Monday?” she asked.
“Sure,” he said, wondering if his voice always sounded this vibratey. “Unless—”
“Yes?” Merritt said quickly.
“Well, I was kind of thinking about working tomorrow, if—”
“I’d love to,” she said, even more quickly.
“Great.”
“Great. Okay. See you then.”
