“I don’t know,” he admits finally.
“Neither do I.”
Silence stretches between us.
He studies me for a long moment like he’s trying to solve something impossible.
“I wanted to dance with you,” he says quietly. “Not with Mary McGregor, the veterinarian I’m supposedly dating to make your grandmother happy. You. Just you.”
My heart stops.
Then starts racing all over again.
“Finn…”
“I know what we agreed on. I know this was supposed to be fake. But tonight, during that stupid game, when you wrote exactly what I was thinking…”
He takes a slow breath.
“I can’t keep pretending this means nothing. That none of it matters.”
“You can’t say things like that.”
“Why?”
“Because it changes everything. Because if you admit you feel something, then I’ll have to admit I do too. And if I admit that, then this whole plan, this whole arrangement becomes…”
“Real?”
“Dangerous.”
He takes a step toward me.
Then another.
Until he’s so close I can smell his cologne mixed with the scent of Maggie’s roses growing beside the terrace.
The survivors of the sheep massacre.
“And what if I want dangerous?” he asks softly. “What if I want my life to change?”
I should step back. Put distance between us. I could laugh this off and pretend this conversation never happened.
But I don’t move.
Because I want dangerous too.
I want my life to change.
His hand lifts hesitantly before settling against my cheek. His thumb brushes my cheekbone.
It’s such a gentle, tender touch that it makes my chest ache.
“Mary…” he whispers.
And then he kisses me.
His lips are soft against mine.
