Double dimples rewarded her. Yep, she could get used to a side of that with breakfast every morning. “Sorry, I don’t have the magic of animation at my fingertips today. Or a talking dog.”
Eisley already had the cold metal of the sconce in her grip. “You’re hilarious. Sure your ancestors weren’t from the jester line?” The sconce loosened under her hold, inflaming her determination. A secret door would be the culmination of all her amateur sleuthing.
She gave the metal a little twist. It shifted and then shot through the air like a bullet, zooming an inch from Wes’s head and imbedding into the bookshelf across the room.
Wes ducked just in time.
“Goodness, Wes.” Eisley ran to him. “I’m so sorry.” Without thinking, she took his face in her hands and attempted to scan every hair for possible scalping evidence. “I guess my Scooby Doo vibes aren’t working today. I almost decapitated your beautiful head.”
His eyes lit with an interesting glow and, if her romance radar worked, she’d say attraction. He covered her hands with his, sandwiching her palms against his cheeks and rendering her absolutely frozen in place. His thought-numbing stare produced an electric current spilling like hot java on her nerve endings.
“I know that was the habit of the sixteenth century, pet, but let’s not regress, shall we?” His voice swooped low taking her breath with it. “I surrender.”
Oh, heaven and all its angels! His lips drew temptingly close and she couldn’t quite pull her attention away from them as fast as she needed. What would kissing friends be like?
“Um...you’d better surrender. I’m pretty dangerous.” She shuddered through quake-like tingles, but otherwise didn’t move. Or couldn’t move. She wasn’t quite sure which one. “Aren’t you afraid?”
He tilted his head and searched her gaze with tenderness enough to drag every secret in her heart she clamored to contain. Time to find her courage? From the fear tickling up her dry throat, she was pretty sure her courage was stuck on the other side of the slammed door.
Chapter Thirteen
Wes felt like a cat locked in a room with a nervous canary. The heat simmering beneath his skin bordered on predatory, so the description might be appropriate. When Eisley had taken his face in her hands, her concern and close proximity unraveled his discipline like little else. An odd combination of desire and some unexpected bond merged deep into his spirit, pulling him further into an intoxication in which he’d happily indulge. He wanted her. In a way he’d never wanted anyone. In every way. From the sweep of her ginger waves to the heel of her bright yellow wellies, he’d never been more certain in all his life. His new life. There was no going back.
“Why are you afraid?”
“Afraid?” Her eyes grew wide and she sent a glance to the closed door as if for escape. “Wh…why am I afraid?”
Her hands slipped from his hold. At first, he thought she might try to retreat as she’d done before, but surprisingly she didn’t go far. Her palms settled on the front of his jacket, fingers fidgeting with his buttons, gaze fastened on her task.
The simplicity of relaxing his pursuit somehow unknotted her fear in little stages—leaning against him last night, her head touching his shoulder this morning, her fingers threaded through his on the stairs, and now, keeping close to him and spiking his internal temperature to volatile proportions. Breathe slowly, in and out. And keep your head, mate. Her heart and yours are worth it.
Her gaze flickered to his and she nibbled her bottom lip. “Um…I asked you a question first.”
He raised a brow, sending a signal he could be as stubborn. “I asked you a question second.”
Her hopeful expression plummeted into a crinkled-nosed frown. “Humph!” A deep sigh, as if pulled from her soul, blew out a long whiff of the chocolate granola she’d eaten for breakfast. “I’m…I’m not good with this kind of thing.” Her attention went back to his buttons. “You know, attraction and interest and infatuations that reach Disney proportions? I’m much better with fiction and no touches or smells, so I…” Color flooded her cheeks and she leveled him with a serious expression. “Okay, look. Jerks, I can handle. They’re predictable and safe. No risks. I learned about them the hard way.” She lifted an animated finger, as if pushing a stubborn button in midair. “But you?” Her voice quieted into a whimper, almost as pleading as the look in her eyes. “You’re not a jerk.”
Poor beautiful bird. “And that is frightening?”
She steadied her expression, trying to regain some fight, but the hint of a smile was counterproductive. “Exactly. You’re charming, handsome, gentle, and…and...” She released a helpless groan. “And incredibly romantic.” Her gaze roamed his face with such wonder it smoothed like a caress. “Did I say handsome already?”
He nodded, biting his lips to steady them.
“How about charming?”
“First one.”
“Oh.” She drew her brows together and looked down at his buttons again, obviously having a little inner war with herself.
Such vulnerability. Such honesty. For him? He couldn’t keep the smile from forming and placed his heart in her fidgeting hands without one more hesitation.
“This…um, new man gig. You’re doing a great job at it. I want to believe you are exactly who you say you are. But all the hurt with Marshall—” Her voice broke and she drew a step back, dropping her hold on his buttons. “I don’t even know how to believe what I see anymore.” Her words ended and then she drew in a deep breath. When she looked up again, tears floated in the golden-green of her eyes. He closed the gap with another step. Her bottom lip quivered and he nearly drew her into his arms on the spot. Let her guide you.
She shifted another step back and cleared her throat. “For someone who’s trying to keep her heart safe, you’re a knight and a nightmare all wrapped into one.”
A cloud of silence filled the space between them. He took a step closer to her. She slid another foot away.
“There you go, complimenting and insulting me all at once.” He dipped his fingers into his jacket and offered her his handkerchief, closing the gap between them once again. “Isn’t faith being certain of what we can’t see? Trusting in something greater? Having hope for more?”
Eisley took the offered handkerchief. “Oh, I’m not complaining about what I see. Are you kidding?” Her gaze swept over him with such appreciation he almost groaned with the need to reward her. “But…but that’s just the thing. I’ve started to care about you. Not just the sweep-me-off-my-feet infatuation, but something real. I know it’s crazy. You’re you. I’m…just me, and we’ve only known each other a week, so well—” She fisted the handkerchief and held it against her chest, sniffling. “What am I doing? I knew I’d screw this up.” She pressed the handkerchief in his hands and stepped back, bumping against the stone wall. “And I’m trapped,” she whispered, more to herself than him, and sent another frantic look toward the closed door. “Look, we shook on friends, and that’s fine—”
“Eisley.” He tightened the gap with another step and swept a rebel tear from her cheek. “I’m falling in love with you.”
“Somehow, I’ve trip-wired my brain to see things that weren’t there and now I—” She stared up at him, eyes as wide as that lovely mouth of hers. “What?”
He caught her hand and brought it to his lips, watching disbelief move across her features. “Friendship is the beginning of any worthwhile romance, but I want so much more, pet.” The pulse at her wrist escalated against another touch of his lips. He allowed his gaze to roam her body to emphasize his words. “And I like everything I see.”
She blinked a few times and then a hint of fire lit her narrowed eyes. “That’s not funny.”
“I would not play sport with your heart.” He held to her hand, though she tried to pull it away. “You’re beautiful. Inside and out. And the more I know you, the more I’m in awe of how perfect you are for me.”
“Perfect for you? Oxygen levels are definitely low in this
place.”
“I’m quite lucid, pet.”
She looked up, face contorted into adorable confusion. “But…but I’m not looking for some temporary fling. I’m not that type of girl.”
“I’m not that sort of man.” His words barely reached a whisper. “Not anymore. And temporary is the last thought I have in my mind.” He slid another palm up to frame her face, watching the morning light wave over her features as hope and doubt vied for a victor. “You’ve awakened my heart as no one ever could. I can’t go back to a life without you in it.”
Her teeth snagged her bottom lip from another quiver and she snatched back the handkerchief. “Is that a line from a movie?”
He pushed a ginger tendril from her damp cheek. “This isn’t pretend.”
“But easily the best date offer I’ve ever had.” She raised a timid palm to his cheek. He leaned into her touch. Soft and warm. Mint lingered in the air. He turned to kiss her palm and her quick intake of breath encouraged him to chase a few kisses up to her wrist.
“But…but how can this possibly work?” The worry crinkle formed between her brows again. “We live an ocean apart.”
His thumb slid a curve from her cheek to the corner of her mouth, prompting a smile. Her eyes swooped closed, face turned upward in trust. “I believe there is a verse in the Song of Solomon which says, many waters cannot quench love.”
Her eyes flashed open and her breath eased out a long sigh, sending a whiff of chocolate with it.
“Poetic and perfectly placed?” Her free hand slid up his chest to hook on his lapel, gaze studying his mouth, focused and a bit diverting. “No wonder you can write lips…er…scripts.”
He would have smiled at her misnomer if her nearness and solid grip on his jacket hadn’t sent his thoughts into predatory territory. “Oh, pet.” He breathed in her closeness, her heat. “If you could see what I see—”
One second he was trying to express his admiration and the next, her hold tightened on his collar, drawing him the short distance to the object of his previous distractions. Her mouth. Soft, inviting, and shocking his system with the potency of a perfect match. Gone was her uncertainty, as her lips explored his. He delved in with the same enthusiasm, tasting a rare combination of mint, chocolate, and Eisley. Quite Christmasy—and he loved Christmas.
She released a satisfied moan and ran her free hand up his arm to link about his neck, offering fully as she’d said she’d do. Trusting him. A fierce protectiveness tempered desire with a deeper burn—not enough to quiet the flames licking the inside of his chest or shooting predaceous thoughts through his head, but enough to garner sensible control. Her mouth proved the best discovery in the entire tower. Pliant, curious, and delicious. A delicacy to last a lifetime.
“Whoa.” She pulled back with a little stumble, hand to her chest. “I didn’t mean to—” Her breaths pulsed in shallow puffs. “I’m…I'm…um…not quite sure what happened just then.”
He tightened his hold against her waist. “I am.”
He drew her lips back to his, lost in her scent and taste, warmth shuddering through him with a sweet sense of home. They stumbled together, all of those soft curves trapped against him and the unyielding wall. Two years of waiting? No, he’d been waiting a lifetime for this. His palms itched to explore her body, but he shoved the urge aside and threaded his hands under her wealth of hair instead. Tilting her head, he deepened the kiss until another sweet moan escaped her. Her hands clenched and unclenched his shoulders, massaging him closer, until her fingers moved to entangle in his hair.
She kissed with as much commitment as she did everything else. Fully. And he didn’t harbor one complaint. He tasted her cheekbone and brushed a few kisses against her hairline before returning to her chocolate-flavored lips.
“Wesley? Eisley? Are you there?” Lizzie’s voice drifted up through the stairwell just beyond the locked door.
He drew back only enough to feel her mouth stretch into a smile against his. Lizzie who?
The door shook with a clank. “Christopher Wesley? Eisley?”
Eisley unwound her fingers from his hair as her lips grazed the edge of his jaw in sweet benediction. “I personally recant every ugly word I’ve ever said about happily-ever-after.”
He tipped her chin with his forefinger. “That’s smashing, because I couldn’t make it happen without you.” His thumb skimmed over her swollen lips and then he leaned in to take another taste. She encouraged him to linger. He happily obeyed.
His body pulsed with awareness of every piece of her pressed against him, supple and warm and perfectly fitted. Yes, it might be wise to proceed with caution and a great deal of prayer. He breathed out the inner predator and touched his forehead against hers. “Eisley Barrett, you are one remarkable woman.”
“I’m certainly one astonished woman.” She exhaled. “Oh wow, I’m numb from the brain down.” She leaned her head back against the wall to expose the pale skin of her neck. He kissed the spot below her earlobe, just as he’d wanted to do. “I lied.” She drew in a quick breath. “I’m not numb.” Then without warning, she flinched and looked down at the bookcase. “Wes, do you feel that?”
He nuzzled her neck, saturating his lungs with mint and chocolate. “In all the right places, pet.”
“Oh, my goodness.” She grabbed the front of his jacket again and pulled him flush against her, tilting her head for his better access. Suddenly, she straightened. “No, wait. Really. There’s air coming from this spot in the wall.”
“Wesley?” Lizzie’s voice broke in again, a bit more frantic. “Are you in there? Are you alright?”
He groaned and buried a kiss into Eisley's hair before turning toward the door. “We’re locked in.”
“Well, there you are.” Lizzie’s voice muffled from the other side. “Did you see the books downstairs? I’m over the moon. There’s a second edition Pride and Prejudice among them. Come now, how do we open this door?”
“Lizzie, turn the latch.” He grabbed the door ring and pulled.
A resounding click ushered through the room and Lizzie bustled in, black hat in place and hands flapping a rhythm of excitement. “This is too fantastic to believe. A trunk filled with dozens of antique books. Old furnishings. It’s a treasure trove.”
“It’s certainly been an amazing morning.” Wes caught Eisley’s gaze from her bent position by the bookshelf and the embers in his body lit to flame. Her cheeks glowed from their previous and heavenly diversion. Perhaps he should shove Lizzie out and lock them back in for a bit longer.
“Well, it’s a mercy I came to collect you. What would have happened if you had been locked up here without…” Lizzie’s voice trailed off and Wes snapped his attention away from Eisley.
She looked from Wes to Eisley with hawk-like acuity. “Ah, I have an inkling more discoveries than antique books were made this morning.” She offered an exaggerated sigh. “The two of you shall be worthless now. Frightfully romantic, though. Inside a five-hundred-year-old tower. What will Eleanor think?” She slapped her hands together. “I say it’s about time.”
Wes laughed, heat spreading into his face at her obvious knowledge. “Lizzie, the way you talk, we’ve been struggling for years instead of a week.”
Lizzie tilted her chin up and huffed, examining them both as if they were specimens under glass. “Struggling for years? It may describe you more than you realize. Perhaps being prepared for this time?” She turned toward the door, her gaze growing distant. “For some people it only takes a moment, and if you wait you may never have another opportunity. Seize the moment.” She drew in a long breath and smiled, hand on the door. “As I said, it’s about time.”
***
Eisley pulled her attention away from Wes’s smile and back to the bookshelf. Every hair on her arms tingled. Her legs wobbled from her trip to heaven and back, and her thoughts moved as if weights were attached to each one. She was drowning in pixie dust and daydreams, except she wasn’t dreaming. She slid her tongue acros
s her numb lips, reliving each moment in body-warming detail.
One minute he was whispering sweet somethings near her ear and the next minute she’d sprung to the attack, taking his mouth and half his face with her. Hot Mama! And boy, was she. Oxygen levels definitely dropped to an all-time low, which might explain some of her behavior.
She slid her glance to him and caught him staring, not paying one bit of attention to Lizzie’s happy spiel about the books downstairs. A dimple dipped with his smile and her body splashed with a fresh wave of heat. Okay, men did strange things in five-hundred-year-old towers, probably.
It was a new experience for her.
And once they stepped out of this magical wonderland and oxygen became abundant, would it shock him back to his senses? Hope squeezed against worry. Gorgeous, sweet, and senseless worked for her.
“Eisley, what are you doing?”
Lizzie’s question grounded her and she recapped her reasons for staying at the wall, besides the desire for an instant replay of two minutes ago. She turned back to the bookshelf and another rush of stale air touched her face.
Air. Coming from behind the bookshelf. Right.
“I think I’ve found something.” She lifted her palm to the juncture of the wall and bookshelf, at the place the sconce embedded.
Wes brought the full enticing aroma of spice with him to her side and her brain spiraled right back into daydream, Song of Solomon mode. “Um…feel right here.”
“Another discovery, pet?” He ran a palm over the crease and a grin perked. “Let me try to move this shelf.” Those broad shoulders took the brunt of impact against the shelf, but in only a few shoves, and with a little help from Eisley, the shelf slid away to reveal another curving stone stairway.
“I say,” Lizzie breathed, her hand covering her mouth.
Eisley’s palms came up and she laughed. “Okay, that’s it. My life has to officially end right now. What can possibly top this day?”
Just the Way You Are (A Pleasant Gap Romance Book 1) Page 16