Page 65 of Promise

“Think we’ll ever kiss like that again?” The question is rough, vulnerable.

“Like the first time?” I arch a brow. “I think there’s only one first time.”

He shakes his head. “Agree to disagree. Because we had so many firsts. First time beside my truck. First time in your bed.” His smile curls, pulling up another memory. “First time as my wife.”

His grin grows larger. “First time in this house.”

I can’t seem to help myself. I smile back at him with every reminder of other first kisses.

“And first time on that pink couch.” The pitch of his voice has dropped even further, like soft gravel on a sandlot. “That’s my new favorite.”

I snort, quiet and choppy, while my cheeks heat. “I wasn’t exactly graceful.” I practically ambushed him.

He shakes his head, slowly, eyes on mine again. “Don’t need you to be graceful. Or even careful with me, Trin. Just need you to be you.”

I lick my lips once more. “Okay.” Breathless thanks to the flutters exploding in my belly, I wonder if he’ll kiss me right now.

First time kissing against this fridge. Although we probably did that sometime before. We must have at one point or another. But some memories just mingle with the mundane, not standing out as significant when they should.

Another memory comes to me. “Remember our second kiss?”

Dart smiles again, one corner of his mouth tipping up higher than the other. He shakes his head.

My mouth falls open, like I’m a little aghast and a lot offended. “You sent me a text. Asked me when I had a break at the hospital.”

“Ah,” he nods, but I’m not certain he really remembers.

“You showed up with a single daisy.”

His lips spread. “Saw it on the roadside and stopped to pick it.”

“And then you kissed me by your truck again,” I remind him, enjoying this game of finishing each other’s thoughts. Filling in the memory together.

“Wanted to know if the second time was as good as the first.”

He’d said something similar on that day as well.

“And?” I arch a brow, like I don’t already know the second one was just as good as the first one.

“Might have been even better.” His gaze drops to my lips again.

“Really?”

“Yep. Because you gave me a second chance.”

Our eyes lock.

First kisses are important, special even, but so are the second ones. It meant one more time to experience something that already felt kind of perfect. And then, make it better.

Maybe have a third, and a fourth . . .

I can’t make the first move here, so I squeeze my thighs and clench my fists behind me, while willing him to kiss me like he once did. First time or last time or anytime in between.

Because as much as I’ve proudly proclaimed my sexual independence, the one thing I can’t do is kiss myself. And I want Dart to kiss me.

He lowers his head, and my mouth waters. I hold perfectly still as he runs his nose along the side of mine. I tip back my head and our eyes meet, too close to really focus on each other.

Then he pulls back, a sly smirk on that seductive mouth.