Page 74 of Meet Me on Greenwood

Houston reached out and tilted my chin up. "Sharing anything with you might hurt you."

The words settled heavy on my chest. I knew he wasn’t saying them just to say them. He meant them.

"It might hurt us both," I whispered.

He inhaled sharply. "I won’t put you in danger."

I swallowed. "Then why did you seek me out in the speakeasy? Why talk to me at all?"

His eyes fell to my mouth before they found my gaze. "I couldn't stay away. I tried. God knows I have."

His hand came up slowly, deliberately, giving me every opportunity to stop it, bringing my face to his.

"Tell me to stop." His voice came out rough. "Please. Tell me you don't want this."

Every sensible thought I possessed failed me because I gripped him tighter.

"I don't want this," I whispered.

He surrendered a breath, releasing his hands from my face. His forehead dropped toward mine but he did not press further.

I slid my hands up the lapels of his shirt, feeling the warmth of him through the fabric, and laced them slowly around the back of his neck.

He made a low sound that made me want him more.

When I rose up to meet his lips, it was I who closed the distance, with full knowledge of what I was doing and no intention of stopping. His lips were warm and unhurried, cradling me carefully, like he was tasting something he knew he shouldn't have. My body tingled as his other hand gripped my waist to pull me towards him.

It wasn’t just a kiss. It was rebellion. It was liberation. It was the most exquisite meeting of lips that I had ever experienced. A soft moan escaped me as he parted my mouth with his tongue, and I decided to stop thinking about what everything meant—or the future I might never get back to. At this moment, I wasn’t even sure I wanted to go back.

I don't know how long we stayed like that, lips tangled, bodies entwined, when movement snagged at the edge of my vision.

I pulled away. "Someone saw us," I whispered, my heart racing.

Houston stood as if he was ready to scoop me up, but the look in my eyes must have given him pause.

Beyond the vines, I glimpsed the outline of a tall figure leaning over someone smaller with rhinestones sewed on her dress that reflected in the moonlight. The couple pressed themselves against the stone fountain, the smaller figure had one foot in the air.

"Rita?" I called.

The smaller figure jumped and spun around.

"Gema?" Rita's voice came out high and startled.

I was already stepping out from under the canopy, with Houston close behind me. As I crossed the wet flagstones, the taller figure straightened and turned. The light from the gas lamp washed over her face.

A woman. Unusually tall, with dark bronze skin gleaming in the rain. She had her hair pinned in a sleek flapper style, and her coat was beaded with water like she hadn't once noticed the storm.

Rita stood beside her, smoothing her dress and summoning her composure.

I looked between them.

"Are you all right?" I asked.

"Fine," Rita said, too quickly. A little breathless. "Perfectly fine."

The tall woman looked at me with calm unhurried eyes and said nothing.

I looked at Rita. Rita looked at the fountain.