Page 50 of Hats off to Love

He dips his head slowly, and the air from our lungs mingles as he gives me time to say no if I don’t want this, but I do. Yes, Stokes and I have kissed twice, but standing here with him now, in many ways, this is our first, the first for just us.

His thumb gently swipes across my cheek, he licks his bottom lip, and then his mouth settles against mine. My eyes close, shutting out the world and every single distraction in the background. I could stand in this spot forever, just like this with nothing more, and be completely content, just him and me.

Gently, his lips move over mine while keeping things PG. His hand on my lower back pulls me tighter against him, and it feels like he’s relinquishing the self-control he exercised to stay away from me, but at the same time embracing how he so perilously wants this. Does he want it as much as I do? It feels impossible to think that he does, yet here we are, almost as close as two people can be.

Sliding my hand up his chest, I settle it over his heart, which is beating wildly. But instead of deepening the kiss and giving us what we both so desperately want, his lower lip drags between mine before he pulls back, studies my face, and then with a rough voice says, “Let’s get out of here.”

That’s when I realize they’ve turned the lights back on.

He takes my hand, and we walk to the elevator. There are others leaving just as we are, but we barely acknowledge them as we can’t stop staring at each other.

At his car, he opens the door for me, and as I watch him walk around to his side, I feel like I’m about to burst. The door shuts behind him, and he turns my way. He looks at me like there’s nowhere else in this entire world he wants to be, and he looks at me as if he is starving. There’s the intense way his jaw is clenching, how his nostrils are flaring as he breathes in the scent of me in his space, and the way he bites his bottom lip as it begs to continue that kiss we started. The silence is nearly deafening, and my ears ring. Without any words said, each of us leans toward the other, surrendering to the pull.

Here it’s just him and me, in a dark vehicle with tinted windows, in a poorly lit parking garage. For sure no one is watching. His hand slides around to the back of my neck, and as his fingers tangle in my hair, our mouths collide.

On the roof, his kiss was sweet and reserved, but this one is not. This one is more like the kiss on the night of Birdie’s party. There’s concession, passion, and new flavors.

His lips are warm, full, and so soft. They fit against mine perfectly, and the way they move, it’s like he knew before he ever even touched me what we would be like together and how this was going to go. There’s no fumbling, no learning phase, just perfection.

I’m in awe of the way he knows how to tilt my head to the perfect angle so he can deepen this kiss like no other. I’m in awe of the way his tongue so expertly strokes against mine, and I’m in awe of the way he gives as much as he takes, making this the best kiss of my entire life. It surpasses the party kiss. It’s what fairy tales are written about.

In our story, I am being kissed by the prince, only I never want to wake up.

I’m pretty sure I could kiss him for a lifetime and then some.

19

As I pull onto the driveway at Whitlock Farm and wait for the gates to open, I roll down the windows and take in a deep breath. The air is cool and fresh, the grass smells sweet and inviting, and in the distance I can hear horses neighing to each other. The feel, the smell, the sound—all of it envelops me, sending my senses into a state of relaxed bliss, and then I realize I now have a taste and a feeling to include. While this farm is my home, the farm is Stokes too. After last night, I know I need to tread carefully to not blur one with the other.

At the main house, there are four cars parked out front, one being Stokes’s, and I assume the others belong to the film crew. Part of me wonders why I agreed to come out tonight. After all, I’m really not family, but the other part of me is happy to be included. I love watching the Whitlocks shine. They’ve worked so hard to make this farm what it is.

But that doesn’t change the fact that I feel bone tired.

All in all, Stokes didn’t keep me out too late last night. After he walked me to my door and gave me another kiss that left me breathless, I still made it to bed at a reasonable time. Unfortunately, I was restless reliving those kisses and what they might mean for us going forward, if they really mean anything at all. Then, I still got up early to nitpick over a few details on Avery’s dress. Add in that the store was off the charts crowded today, and I’m just peopled out.

But I’m here, for him, because he asked me to come.

Lowering the mirror, I check my makeup and fascinator then hop out of the car. There are voices coming from the left, I see people walking from behind the house to the front porch, and that’s when I spot Stokes.

Anxiousness engulfs me.

He’s wearing a blue suit with a white shirt, no tie, and the top button is undone. He has on a brown belt with brown shoes, and if I had to come up with words to describe the way he looks, they would be polished, exquisite, and in a league of his own. He’s simply confidence personified.

I’ve never not really considered us equals. In my mind we always were, but watching him with these people surrounding him, the way he carries and presents himself, I suddenly feel like the daughter of the help that I am.

What have I got myself into?

Stokes hears the sound of the car door as I close it, and although I’m looking down to gather my composure, I can feel the moment he sees me. Goose bumps run down my arms and the hair on the back of my neck rises. Lifting my gaze to his, I see he’s rerouted to come greet me, and he breaks out in the largest smile.

My smile.

Cartwheels—that’s what it feels like is happening in my stomach. My teenage butterflies are officially all grown, and I’m not prepared for the havoc they are wreaking on my insides.

Not wanting to embarrass him or myself in front of these people, I smile back and make my way toward him.

He’s the same guy, I tell myself. Same guy. Same guy. We are the same. Only, after his kiss last night and with the way my heart is currently pounding in my chest, I know I am not the same.

“Hi,” he says as we meet in the middle. He bends down and kisses me right next to my mouth, and my breath catches. I’m not sure how I will ever get used to this or how I will get over it when our arrangement ends.