Page 121 of This is a Kissing Book

Hands explore.

Angles shift.

We pause to catch our breath, faces close together, not willing to part just yet. She kicks her feet off the ground and I hold her suspended. This simple gesture tells me she trusts me, fully, wholly.

On impulse, I spin her around in the pleasant breeze, her hair whirling around us, but we don’t separate. If anything, she holds on tighter, her arms wrapping more securely around my neck as the world spins lazily by.

I slant my head and kiss her, and her head falls back as I trail down her neck. Soft, sweet, tasting like fresh water and the summer afternoon. My hand moves to cradle the back of her neck, and she sighs against my lips as we continue to kiss.

When we break apart, she stays close, her forehead resting against mine.

“I could get used to this,” she whispers.

“Me too.”

We spend the rest of the week wringing every last drop of sunshine out of each day. Jules also reads more of my mother’s journals while I catch up on team emails and try not to think about preseason starting soon. We cook together, take long walks around the lake, play board games, do a puzzle, and swim, making the outside world feel very far away.

But reality has a way of intruding.

“Linc …” Jules’s voice cuts into my thoughts.

I look up from my laptop to find her standing by my mother’s desk, holding an open journal.

Brows pulled together as she slides her finger along the page, she reads aloud, “‘The missing letters might finally complete the story of how our family came to possess the collection that launched Meridian Holdings.’”

My attention perks up. “She wrote that?”

“You didn’t know?” Jules studies my face with sharp eyes that miss nothing.

“Reading the journals was an emotional experience,” I admit.

Gaze gentle, she carefully adds, “Linc, what if your father never sought the letters because finding them would expose some kind of dishonesty in how he acquired the original collection that launched his business?”

Hearing her say it, I recognize that the thought had lurked in the back of my mind.

“Do you think that could be why Drecken sent those guys to stop us?” she asks.

I let out a long, shaky breath.

She answers her question, “I think the investigation’s outcome could affect a lot of people’s livelihoods. Including mine.”

Instead of letting her say more, I step toward her and kiss her with a desperation I can’t hide. I need to memorize this feeling before everything changes—the way she melts into me, how she responds so hungrily. The sugar sweetness in her eyes when she looks at me.

This pang of longing makes my lungs collapse. Fog clouds my heart and my head until there’s nothing but her. Every touch sends me into a trance. Every look. Every time I breathe in her flower blossom scent.

I’m afraid to let go, so I pull Jules closer, wishing I could freeze this moment, keep us in this bubble where the only thing that matters is the way she feels in my arms.

When we break apart, both breathing hard, she brushes her nose against mine and leaves another kiss on my lips as if to say, she feels it too.

42

LINC

We make dinner together—grilled fish and vegetables from the local market—and eat on the porch as the sun sets. Jules tells me stories about her brothers’ antics in Las Vegas, and I find myself saying, “I’d love to meet them.”

She nearly chokes on her meal. “You sure about that? They’re feral and not particularly subtle about it.”

I hint, “You mentioned your mom and Brad’s anniversary party.”