The Wedding Pact Box Set - Denise Grover Swank Page 0,321

her fingertip before pulling it down to his lap. “Are you going to torture me all night, Libby?” he asked, his voice deep and husky. “Or are you going to kiss me?”

“Is this torture for you, Noah?” she asked in a whisper.

“You have no idea.”

She moved her hand to his cheek and lowered her mouth to his, her tongue resuming the path her finger had taken. He gasped into her parted lips before she pulled his bottom lip between hers, raking her top teeth across it. He tasted of beer and vodka and the promise of so much more. His hand was suddenly on her neck, pulling her closer. The kiss deepened, and her seductive playfulness vanished, replaced with want and raw need.

And then he pulled back, his breath coming in quick pants, his eyes wide with wonder. “That was by far the best dare I’ve ever given.”

She had a new appreciation for the dare aspect of their game too. She picked up a shot glass and held it out to him.

A grin lit up his face. “We are so going to regret this in the morning.”

Was he talking about the kiss, the drinking, or both? But they’d just boarded this runaway train, and she didn’t see any way off at this point. “We’ll worry about that tomorrow. I want my twenty-nine years of living to go out in a celebration. Truth.”

“I want a dare. Just like the one I gave you.”

“You don’t get to pick either. Truth.”

His eyes danced with playfulness at her response, relieving her anxiety that he’d be upset with her. “What deep dark secret do you want to know this time?”

“Have you ever been in love?”

His playfulness faded slightly. “Once.”

That surprised her. From what he’d told her, he’d never been with a woman long enough to fall in love. “Who was she?”

He shook his head.

“You’re not going to tell me? Why not?” Was it Donna? Had he cared for her more than he’d let on?

He picked up the shot glass. “I haven’t had near enough of these to tell you yet.” He downed the drink, slammed the glass down and pounded the counter, then turned his attention back to Libby. “Have you ever been in love?”

She didn’t need to consider her answer. She just picked up a glass and downed it. Vodka. There was no way she was admitting she loved him and only him.

“Damn,” he murmured, his gaze drifting from her mouth down her neck and hovering at her chest. “That bad?”

“Not enough of these.” She waved the empty glass and set it on the counter.

The whole thing was making her sad and she didn’t want to be sad. Tomorrow would be sad enough. She tilted her head to the side and grinned. “I think it’s time for a dare.”

His eyes lit up, which didn’t surprise her. He was more a dare man than a truth man. That thought sobered her. Man after man had lied to her, but she’d always counted on Noah to not be on that list. But what if she’d gotten that wrong too?

“Do you tell me the truth?” she asked, surprised the words blurted out without a filter. Maybe this drinking game had been a bad idea after all.

His head jutted back in surprise. “What do you think I’m lying about?”

She waved her hand wildly. “Nothing. Anything.”

“So you’re not accusing me of lying about anything in particular, or just in general.”

She was ruining their fun again, but she had to know. “Everybody lies, Noah. Parents lie to kids—the Tooth Fairy, Santa Claus. People tell little white lies to make someone feel better—yes, your singing voice is beautiful. Your baby is the cutest thing ever. But I’m talking big lies.”

He took her hand in his. “I have never lied to you, Libby. At least not intentionally.”

That didn’t make her feel any better.

He grunted and pulled her hand closer. “I told you I was coming to the wedding . . . and then I said I wasn’t. Maybe you saw that as a lie, but it wasn’t. I truly intended to come when I said I would. I simply changed my mind.”

“Then you changed it back again.”

“So you could actually say I lied about not coming.”

She shook her head. This was so confusing. What she really wanted to know was if she could trust him, but she couldn’t ask him that. What was he going to say? No? But he’d always been there for her—the late night calls. The long talks. The