But this kiss, well, just like everything else with this woman, it’s different. What started out as an impulsive means to distract her has now become my new addiction. She melts into me instantly, her arms winding around my neck, and her fingers dragging through my hair as if she’s been waiting to do that all afternoon. Her lips are as soft as silk and when she opens for me, my tongue sneaks in to tangle with hers. There’s a faint hint of peppermint on her breath as it blends with mine, our mouths fused together perfectly. I want to take it deeper, to devour her, but it’s too soon.
Reluctantly, I pull away slightly, and press a chaste kiss to her nose, something I’ve never done before, but feels right for her.
“I hope that answers the question of whether or not I’m single.”
She nods, her eyes still closed, and I lean in, unable to resist kissing her one more time. This time I keep it short and sweet; I just need another taste.
Ella slowly blinks her eyes open, and the smile she gives me makes me feel like the Grinch on Christmas day. I swear my heart grows two sizes, until it feels like it might burst from my chest.
I’m falling for her, after only one hug and one kiss.
“That was…” she trails off, and I’m amused by the fact that my rambling girl is, for once, at a loss for words. Wait. When did I start thinking of her asmy girl?
But she is. She has to be. Somehow, this captivating woman in front of me has awakened a part of me I didn’t know existed. The part that longs for a wife and family, for a home filled with love and laughter, for a life that is dictated by more than just business and work.
“That was the first kiss of many,” I answer confidently as I lower my hands from her waist.
“The first of many.”
She repeats my words as she looks up at me, and I can see something in her eyes that I suspect is mirrored in my own. A deep sense of completeness, of pure satisfaction and happiness.
I wrap my arm around her shoulders and tug her close into my side. I need to feel more of her against my body, in whatever way I can right now. Granted, what I really want is to turn around and march us back to the inn, find the nearest flat surface, and peel away these clothes so I can truly feel her body against mine. Fuck, that thought awakens my cock, and my pants are starting to feel tight. I try to think of business stats to make it go away, which only helps somewhat.
Soon we’ve reached the main part of town. Ella explains that the main drag is called Wharf Street, because it leads straight down to the old fishing pier. She takes me straight down there, bypassing all of the storefronts, claiming the only place to start is on the pier.
“So, do you want the history of the island, or just a tour of the town, or both, or something totally different?” Ella somehow manages to blurt that all out without taking a breath.
“Do you talk so quickly all the time?” I ask, pressing a kiss to her head so she knows I mean it nicely.
She gets a faint blush that starts at her chest and I allow myself a moment to enjoy the view.
“Only when I’m nervous.” Her voice is so quiet, I almost miss the words. I stop and turn her to face me, moving my hands back to her waist.
“Why do I make you nervous, beautiful Ella?”
She’s silent for a moment and won’t meet my eyes. She tugs her bottom lip between her teeth, and I want desperately to bend my head down and cover her lips with my own, but I don’t. I hold back, sensing that this might be a pivotal moment for us.
Eventually she looks up, and her eyes are shining with something I can’t quite identify, but it fills me with an unfamiliar sensation of warmth and happiness.
“You don’t make me nervous, Marcus. But the way I feel around you does. This, whatever’s between us, it isn’t normal. At least, I’ve never heard of it, except in romance novels. I feel like I’m falling for you, so quickly and so completely, and I can’t decide if I should be terrified or ecstatic. So I’m a weird combination of both.”
When she lowers her gaze, I can sense the nerves running through her. I admire the bravery it must have taken her to put her feelings out there like that. She’s such a contradiction of courageous and shy, and it’s a huge turn on. I gently run my hand down her cheek, loving the feel of her pressing into my palm. When I cup her chin, and gently tip her face up to mine, the first thing I do is lean down and kiss her. Once, twice; soft swipes of my lips against hers. Designed to relax and reassure, not arouse. I know I’m successful when I feel a soft sigh escape from her. I tuck her into my chest, one hand resting on her lower back, the other coming up to cup her head.
“You’re right. This is anything but normal for me as well. Fuck, Ella, I haven’t been on a date in years,” I say honestly. “But despite the crazy fast speed at which I’m also falling for you, I don’t want to stop. Do you?” I find myself holding my breath while waiting for her reply. God, what the hell will I do if she feels it is too fast? I want more and more with this woman, hell, I want everything. What if she’s not ready for that? I’m a lot, I know. I come with baggage in the form of my business and my work responsibilities. For a small-town girl like Ella, that might not be very appealing, and she doesn’t even know about all that yet.
“No, I don’t want to stop. I don’t think I could, even if I wanted to,” she says, and the words are a soothing balm to my worries.
“Good. Then let’s just give in to this wild ride, and enjoy our time together,” comes my swift reply. She nods at me slowly, and a soft smile stretches across her face. Together we start to walk slowly back toward the town, my arm still holding her close to my side.
When we get to the buildings, Ella perks up. “First on the tour is Seas The Day, our local diner. They’ve got the best salmon burgers in town; this is where we’ll grab dinner later.” She gestures to the first storefront, which boasts a bright awning with blue and white stripes. There’s tables and chairs set up on the patio out front, and what looks to be a bustle of customers inside.
“Next is Pete’s Hardware and Tackle shop.”
Again, I’m impressed by how clean and tidy the exterior of the store is. Clearly the residents of Westmount Island pride themselves on their local businesses. This bodes well for any future developments, but I’m still worried that the vibe might be too quaint for what Robert wants to build. My mind starts churning with ways to adapt his idea, and more importantly, convince him to accept the changes.
I hear someone call out Ella’s name, and turn to see an older man walking toward us with a big smile. He’s wearing a faded ballcap, jeans, and a plaid shirt with – honest to God – suspenders.
“Ella, my dear, I’m so glad I caught you,” he calls out cheerfully, before turning and giving me a curious look. “Who’s your friend?”
