The Wedding Pact Box Set - Denise Grover Swank Page 0,315

container toward her. “The nachos, not the machines.”

She took a chip and leaned over the container so she didn’t drip cheese on her dress. “Yeah, I suppose.”

“How come you’ve never read my palm?”

The question came out of nowhere and caught her off guard. “Uh . . . I don’t know.” But that wasn’t true. She realized that now. She’d been worried about what she’d see, or more aptly, what she wouldn’t see.

He took another chip and looked into her eyes. “You’ve read the palms of just about everyone we know, yet you’ve never asked to read mine.”

“First of all, we hardly have any friends in common, and second, you’ve never asked me to read your palm.”

He set the tray of nachos down and held out his palm to her. “Libby,” he said in a husky voice. “I want you to read my palm.”

Her heart began to race, and she fought to keep her breathing even. She started to reach for his hand, then stopped. What was she so afraid of? Confirmation of what she already knew? Noah McMillan wasn’t the man destined for her. “You don’t believe in it.”

“Maybe I do. You do. And you were right about Josh.”

“I thought you said it was a lucky guess.”

“What difference does it make if I believe or not? I want you to read my palm.”

She took a deep breath and grabbed his hand, the contact sending a jolt of desire straight to her core. Trying her best to ignore it, she cradled his hand in hers, using her right index finger to trace the lines.

“What does it say?”

Her nerves were on edge and she could hardly concentrate on the grooves in his hand. “You have a deep life line. You’re very healthy.”

“True.” Her eyes were still on his hand, but she could hear the grin in his voice.

“It’s also very long. You’ll live a long life.”

“So you’re saying I can take up dangerous sports without fear, like sky diving or rope-free cliff climbing.”

She grinned and snuck a look at him. “No.”

His eyes held hers and she felt a new connection to him. What was it? It was at once deep and unnerving and . . . comforting. Then it hit her.

Love.

She loved him.

Not just you’re my best friend love. She was head over heels in love with him.

“Go on,” he coaxed softly. “I want to hear about my love line.”

Oh, God. This was terrible. What did she do with this knowledge—this yearning for him? Noah was bound to freak out if he knew she felt anything for him other than friendship and primal lust. If he even got an inkling, he was sure to take off running. That’s what he’d done with all of his past relationships.

Get it together, she told herself. Don’t let him see anything’s wrong. She took a breath, trying to steady her nerves. “I’m not done with your life line.”

“All right.”

With great difficulty, she tore her eyes from his and looked down at his palm. “There are several hash marks on your life line indicating major life events.” She lifted his hand closer to her face. “The first was in your very early twenties.”

“My father’s death,” he murmured. “When I took over the company.”

“Another in your mid- to late thirties.” She paused and took a closer look. “Several, actually.”

“Bad things?”

She pursed her lips. “No, not necessarily. The way some of these are smaller and close together suggests they might be marriage and children.”

Nausea stirred in her gut as she thought about him with someone else. A wife who wouldn’t understand their relationship . . . and would be right not to.

She took another breath, hoping her hands didn’t start to shake, and decided it was safer to move on. “This is your head line.” The pad of her index finger rubbed over the line running above his life line. “You’re very intelligent.” She glanced up at him through her lashes. “But we knew that already.”

A gleam of reassurance filled his eyes. He always joked about being an idiot and a fool. It shocked her to realize that part of him actually believed it, his academic achievements in his teens and in college notwithstanding.

“See how it curves and is so long?” she asked, waiting for him to look. “That means you’re a creative thinker and problem solver.” Creative thinker, but not necessarily creative. What did she make of that?

“And my heart line?”

“Why are you so insistent on your heart line?” She was scared to study it.

“I want to know