Sandcastle Beach (Matchmaker Bay #3) - Jenny Holiday Page 0,81
imagined any part of her could be. She was usually all brittleness and angles, but now, here, somehow she was pliant and lax as she sighed against his mouth. She was still holding on to his neck, and he added his arms to the mix, wrapping them around her and pulling her against him as he pressed his tongue against the seam of her lips, which opened for him unhesitatingly. And then he was inside the mouth that had yammered at him so ceaselessly for so many years. It was soft, too, as soft as her lips had been, but hotter. Needier. It seemed—
As suddenly as it had started, it was over.
She let go of him and took a big step back, leaving him disoriented and breathing heavily. Her hair was messed up, more of it out of her topknot than in it. He had done that.
“Oh, wow,” she said, eyes wide. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what—”
“Shh.” He held up a hand to silence her, though it was probably futile. But he didn’t want her to apologize. Or make a speech about how this had been a mistake.
She surprised him by doing neither, though she did not heed his request for silence—of course she didn’t. “Are you going to tell anyone about this?”
That wasn’t what he’d expected. He’d expected a discussion. A litany of questions he couldn’t answer.
“Please promise you’re not going to tell anyone about this,” she said, with more urgency.
“I don’t kiss and tell.” He hoped she wasn’t asking because she thought he was that kind of guy. “I would never do that,” he added for good measure.
She looked at him for a long moment, smiled as if she liked that answer, and said, “I gotta go.”
What? That was it?
He followed her to the door. Was she really going to leave without insisting that they analyze what had just happened?
It seemed she was. She paused with her hand on the doorknob. “Thanks for…” She pressed her lips together like she was trying not to smile, but the corners of her lips turned up. “…everything.”
“Hold on.”
What? What was he doing? He was getting what he wanted. He didn’t want to talk about that kiss, so he should keep his mouth shut. His mouth, apparently having other ideas, asked, “Did you really think I was someone else last time?” Did you think I was Holden?
She looked at him without speaking for several long moments. Long enough for him to regret the question. Because did he really want to know the answer? But then she shocked him by saying, evenly, “No.”
He didn’t know what to do with that no, other than to stand there and let it course through him, a single syllable ricocheting through his body like a victory.
After a few beats of silence, she turned to go.
“There’s a match on Thursday—same time,” his mouth said. His brain caught up and seconded the motion. Yes. Let’s do this again.
“Much Ado opens Thursday.” He knew that. He had a ticket and an ironclad promise from Carter to cover the bar. “And I’m afraid we’ll be rehearsing all morning.” She grimaced.
“Replay after the show?” Damn, he sounded desperate.
“I’d say yes, but we’re having a cast party. Normally I’d pick football over a cast party any day, but Holden wants a party.”
“After that,” he said, having apparently abandoned all attempts to appear cool. “Just the highlights reel, maybe?”
“But that will be like three a.m.”
He shrugged. “I’ll be up.”
She grinned. “Okay, yay!” She opened the door but paused before actually leaving. “Come to the party if you want. It’s going to be in the lobby of the theater.”
“Did you just invite me to your party?” He made a show of acting shocked. “Did you just, of your own free will, invite me somewhere?”
“Once. I invited you somewhere once. Don’t let it go to your head.”
He wanted to kiss her goodbye.
Holy shit. He wanted to kiss her goodbye.
He didn’t, but it was a close thing. She slipped out and left him alone to contemplate the paradox of how someone’s mouth could be so sharp and so soft at the same time.
Chapter Fifteen
Hey. It’s Law. You want to have your cast party at the bar on Thursday?
Uh, what? Maya looked up from where she was doing a little tweaking of the set. Looked out at the empty seats. She wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t like she had an audience who could help her interpret the text.
Maya: That’s a really nice offer. Why would you do