8. Rafferty

8

RAFFERTY

I f I hadn’t heard it with my ears, I’d have never believed it. Arabella Collins had just asked me to kiss her. I sat stunned for, I don’t know how many seconds, staring at her, my heart pounding hard in my chest.

“We’ve already spent the night together, so why not?” Arabella asked, clearly trying to make light of her request.

But I didn’t want her to pretend it was nothing. A throwaway. A joke. I wanted to believe it was true. Arabella wanted me to kiss her.

And I wanted to. Desperately. The feel of holding her in my arms during our night in the cabin had worked its way permanently into my nervous system. Or perhaps tattooed into every inch of my skin?

I scooted to the edge of the couch, cupping my hands under my chin, trying to think of what to say. Or do. Arabella snuggled into one corner of my mother’s sectional and gazed down into her lap. She’d discarded the tall black boots she’d worn to the burial and sat with her bare legs folded beneath her. A black knit dress showed off her slender figure. Her hair was down around her shoulders, shining under the soft lights. No one should look that good on the day she buried her father.

In fact, I’d thought earlier how wrong it was for me to notice how pretty she looked on the day of her dad’s funeral. I’d felt like a bad person. I felt even worse right now because my thoughts were not chaste. Or empathetic for her circumstances. I wanted to touch her, kiss her, run my hands through that glorious hair.

“I’m sorry.” Her cheeks flushed the color of a Honeycrisp apple. “I don’t know what I was thinking. It just slipped out.”

“Don’t apologize. I…” What was I exactly? Should I tell her how much I’d like to kiss her? Or how I couldn’t stop thinking about her?

“You’re what?” She shifted just her eyes, keeping her chin dipped close to her neck, as she looked over at me.

“How honest do you want me to be?”

“Completely. Even if it hurts me.”

“It won’t hurt you. I don’t think so, anyway. The fact is, I’d love to kiss you. I’ve been thinking of nothing else but you and feeling terrible about it since you’ve just laid your father to rest. I’m a bad person.”

“No, I don’t think so. In fact, you’re a really good one. An honorable man. A man who has been a rock for me these last few days. And yes, I want you to kiss me. I didn’t intend to ask you, but I don’t know. I’m not myself today. Obviously.”

“It shouldn’t be today.”

“What shouldn’t?”

“The first time I kiss you shouldn’t be the day you put your father to rest. I don’t want those two things mixed together in your mind.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re too important to me.” I twisted my hands together, trying to find just the right words to tell her the truth. In the last few days, I’d started to imagine a future with her, which was too early for me to say. “Because if we’re to kiss, after all the years of competing with each other and thinking we didn’t like each other, it has to be perfect. It cannot be tainted by the sorrow of this day. Do you understand?”

Tears flooded her eyes. “I do. I do understand.”

“Tomorrow is a new day. A fresh day. Maybe the day that will become the anniversary of our first kiss. The first of many.”

“Who knew you were such a romantic, Mr. Moon.”

“You bring it out in me.”

She unfolded her legs and scooted closer to me, then cupped my face in her hand, looking into my eyes. “You are and will always be the man who helped me look for my father. That will never change. You will always be tied to these last few days. Your family, too. But that doesn’t mean my feelings for you or any of them will be tainted. It’s the opposite. Seeing how you’ve all surrounded me and supported me has touched me in ways I could never express. I’ve felt like I have a family. I don’t know how you Moons do it—just exuding love. Giving it so freely. Like it isn’t something to hold back like my father did.” Tears ran down the sides of her face, making a trail through her makeup.

“Here. Take this.” I handed her the tissues I’d been carrying around in my jacket pocket all day in case she needed them.

“Thank you.” She dabbed at her cheeks and under her eyes. “I can’t seem to stop crying. Not only from grief but gratitude. For you. And your family. But most of all for you. I don’t think I could have gotten through all of this without you. Truly.”

“My family may not be perfect, but we do know how to love. And I would do anything for you. All you have to do is ask.”

“Kiss me? Now. Today.”

I reached over to run a finger through a tress of her long brown hair. It was as silky as I remembered from our night together. And the scent. My God, it was enough to make a man swoon. “Are you sure?”

“When we were walking out of the cemetery, I had this strange feeling of being reborn. This was the first day of the rest of my life. I know, it sounds so trite, but it’s true.”

“So, what you’re saying is that our first kiss would be on the first day of the rest of your life.”

She laughed softly, playing with the sleeve of my shirt. “Do you think I’ve lost my marbles?”

“If you have, then so have I.” I played with another lock of her hair. “It’s nice to hear you laugh.”

Today had been filled with enough sorrow to last a lifetime—Arabella standing in black, shoulders squared but clearly carrying the heaviness of grief. And now, here she was beside me, her presence warm and unguarded. She wanted me beside her. How could it be?

I traced my finger along her full bottom lip. “You’re so very beautiful.”

“Do you know what it feels like to hear that from you?” Her voice was no more than a whisper, raw and low. Full of longing.

The same longing I felt.

“It’s true. Everything I’ve said is the truth, even though it makes me feel so vulnerable.”

“We were enemies for a long time. This is scarier because of it. They say trust isn’t built overnight.” She smiled. “But they’re wrong. Whoever they are.”

“They were wrong. I’m sorry the night we spent together was so filled with worry and dread. All tangled up in grief.”

“That sounds like a country song.” She looked at me, an intensity in her gaze that held me captive. “I’ll be the subject of your country song any day of the week.”

“If I had any talent, I would write you a song every day. As cheesy as that sounds.”

Arabella held my gaze, her own eyes steady and unwavering. “If you wait much longer, I’m going to lose my nerve and run away.”

Her words hung between us, softening something in me. I really hoped she was right. We didn’t need to wait for something flawless and unburdened. She said this was a new day beginning for her. It could be the beginning of the best thing that ever happened to me.

Slowly, I reached up, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. My fingers lingered at her cheek, feeling the warmth of her skin. She closed her eyes, leaning into my hand, a small surrender that pulled me in closer. I watched her, heart pounding as if I were standing on the edge of a cliff, waiting for that final push.

I pressed my lips to hers with a softness I didn’t know I had in me. It was tentative, gentle, and as she responded, I felt everything—her warmth, her grief, the strength she’d carried all day—all of it was there for me to take in, savor, and heal. She pulled me closer, her fingers in my hair, kissing me with what felt like her whole heart. I gave her mine in return.

When we finally broke apart, I rested my forehead against hers, breathing in the quiet of the moment. The fire crackled, the warmth of it blending with the warmth between us.

“Were you right?” I murmured, the words barely escaping my lips. “Will the memory of today be something else too?”

“The day the man of my dreams kissed me for the first time?” She closed her eyes, her hand resting on my chest. “The first day of the rest of my life? I would have to say so.”