Page 106

He shifted closer toward her, his scruff prickly against her skin, and she closed her eyes for a moment, drawing deep breaths as his lips brushed against her cheek.

“Does that make us even, Maisie?” he asked, his throaty whisper floating in her ears and drifting toward her heart.

She couldn’t speak, so she delivered a nod, feeling a magnetism to him as her neck shifted, drawing her brow closer to his lips.

“Then, perhaps…” he whispered, his lips moving softly against her temple, “we ought to see if I do taste like Fifteens and heaven…”

A smile touched her lips. He loosened his arms around her and turned her to face him, the smile in his eyes melting any residual embarrassment she would have felt because yes—she needed to know if that’s exactly what Finn tasted like.

Part of her thought that perhaps she should have stayed facing away from him, because then she might’ve had the willpower to ask him if this was wise to pursue.

But the look of desire in his eyes sent away any further worry from her mind, leaving behind nothing but Finn. He slid his hands to rest between her neck and jawline, his thumbs caressing her cheeks and fingers cradling her securely as he leaned toward her and finally pressed his lips to hers.

Maisie was in a dream. Gone were her worries about the repercussions of what might occur if they kissed, replaced solely with the present, with Finn’s arms around her, with Finn’s kiss as her own.

A drop of moisture tapped against her cheek, then another on her brow and eyelash before she realized those dark clouds above had finally begun to release their moisture.

Finn pulled back after a moment, cupping her face in his hands and wiping away the droplets from her brow before diving headlong into another kiss, this one more heart-racing than the other as he fully shared his feelings for her.

While gentle, his grasp on her was secure, his fingers reaching to the back of her head, holding her securely in place, every bit as possessive as when he’d held her hand on stage the night before. His lips met hers softly again and again, and she responded each time, clutching the fabric of his sweater at his sides to anchor herself to the man who’d captured her.

She had never experienced anything like this before. His kiss was so rich. So full of life. So full of emotion and feeling and…heart.

And in that moment, she knew there was nothing else she wanted to do more with her life, than spend the rest of it being kissed by Finn O’Meara, Bus Driver & Tour Guide Extraordinaire—who really did taste like Fifteens and Heaven and who had now just won the award of “Best Kisser Ever.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Finn had never had a kiss quite like this one. There was something special about it, something beyond desire and physical attraction. He shouldn’t have been surprised. There was something special about Maisie, too.

As he held her face between his hands, raising his shoulders to draw her in as close as he could, he thought his heart might shatter because of how quickly it was beating—and because of how much he was feeling.

He hadn’t allowed himself to feel anything in so long. There was too much else to focus on, to worry about, to be busy with. But now, there was just Maisie. Nothing else existed but kissing this stunning, charming woman.

All the time he’d spent on that beach as a child and as an adult, all the sunsets he’d witnessed, the rainy days he’d experienced, the fun times he’d had—none of them came close to how wonderful his time with Maisie had been. Not a single moment even compared to kissing her, feeling her soft skin beneath his fingers, her arms clinging to the folds of his sweater beneath his jacket.

None of it compared to Maisie.

He slid his fingers beyond her cheekbones and past her ears to relish the feel of her silky waves, though they were swiftly becoming sodden with rain. Any other girl he knew would have stopped kissing and sought shelter to protect her wee curls and makeup.

But not Maisie.

Their kiss continued, their admiration for each other clear. He needed more of her. To be closer, to feel her heart against his. He slid his arms beneath her unzipped raincoat, wrapping around her waist as she secured her fingers around the back of his neck.

Together, they stood, their mouths locked in an affection that warded off any cold air, any outside forces, any worries or thoughts or fears about the future.

It was just the two of them in the rain, on the sand, near the sea.

After that page she’d written about him in her food journal, the sweet things she’d said, there had been one thing that stood out to him above the rest—something he hadn’t mentioned aloud.

“Every second I’m with him, I’m happy.”

Did she truly feel that way? Because he did about her.

They’d only known each other for six days, but then, during those six days, they’d spent hours with each other, getting to know each other’s wants, likes, and desires. Their concerns and fears. Their sorrows. He’d never spent that sort of time with any woman before. It was the equivalent to months—at least on his timetable. The stress of travel also tended to reveal a person’s true colors—and Maisie had revealed herself to be as angelic and lovely as she appeared.

He knew there was still much to learn about her, to experience with her, but if he wanted to see this relationship go further, he had to tell her the truth.

He had to be clear why they needed to stop until after the tour.