Yeah, okay, so what? None of us are perfect.
It wasn’t my fault that I grabbed Will and started kissing him. I couldn’t help it. Sometimes actions speak louder than words, and he was just so . . . kissable.
At least that’s what I was thinking—to the degree I could think—as I pressed my mouth to Will’s, and felt those cool, strong hands slide from my arms to my waist, pulling me closer to him as the sharpness of his facial hair pricked my skin. This, I thought in some detached part of my brain, as my body strained to press even closer to his. Yes, this.
Being kissed by Will was like crawling into a cool, soft bed with newly washed cotton sheets.
It was like sunshine on your face, after weeks and weeks of gray, drab rain.
It was like diving into the clearest, bluest pool of sweet warm water.
It was like coming home.
It was definitely something I could get used to.
Except that I couldn’t. I couldn’t. I couldn’t go around kissing Will. What was I, insane? It was wrong, all wrong! I knew it was wrong. . . .
And yet I stood there, kissing him—and letting him kiss me back. . . .
Until I finally came to my senses, and pushed him away. Possibly with a little too much force, since he backed into the console and may have jiggled a few of the controls, because the boat engines made a loud whirring noise. He turned quickly to adjust them while I held on to the back of the co-captain’s seat, trying to catch my breath.
“Okay, that,” I said, when I finally found my voice, “was messed up.”
Will glanced at me in surprise. “I rather liked it.”
“No,” I said, horrified more at the way I was feeling—which was as if I’d just run a marathon, not that I would ever do something so stupid—than by what had actually happened. “We can’t—I mean, that can’t happen again. That was . . . that just can’t happen again.”
“Granted, I’ve heard you’re on the rebound,” Will said. “But frankly, I’m willing to take the risk.”
“Oh my God.” I wanted to dive overboard. “I’m sorry.”
“What are you apologizing for? I said I liked it.”
“Thank you. I’m flattered. But we can’t—” I had never been in a situation like this. I had no idea what to do, much less what to say. “I mean, you’re . . . and I’m—”
“After all that bragging,” he said, folding his arms across his chest and leaning against his seat, a small smile playing across his lips, “you’re the one at a loss for words.”
He was right. I was sputtering. I made a concerted effort to control myself.
But it was hard, because I still felt all melty inside, and my knees were like Jell-O.
I slid back onto the co-captain’s seat and tried to pull myself together.
“Look,” I said. “I’m sorry. I honestly don’t make a habit of going around doing that.”
“Well, that’s a shame.” He still had that little smile on his face, as if he thought I were the funniest thing in the world. “Because I found it very enjoyable.”
“Well, it’s not going to happen again,” I blundered on. “Because this is a book festival and I’m pretty sure I just violated about a million of your sexual harassment policies.”
He actually laughed at that. Laughed!
And then he said the thing that astonished me most of all, even more than my having kissed him, which had been very astonishing indeed:
“Jo, you can kiss me anytime.” He reached out to take my hand in his. “I—”
But before Will could get out whatever it was he wanted to say—or pull me toward him to plant another one of those spine-melting kisses on me, which I had to admit was what I was hoping for, even though I still hated him, I one hundred percent definitely did—a man’s voice called out from below, “Look!”
Unfortunately, I turned my head to look.
Garrett was pointing over the side of the boat at something he really wanted us to see. Something sleek and shining that was arcing through the surface of the water just beside The Moment. Not just a single something, either, but dozens of them, each glistening and leaping in the bright sun, splashing through the water, having a grand old time.
It took me a second or two to register what I was seeing because I’d never seen them in the wild before. Or anywhere, really, except on screens.
“Are those . . . dolphins?” My voice came out a little throatier than I’d intended, mainly because Will was still holding on to my hand, and I could still feel the heat radiating from his body, and my heart was still banging against my ribs like a mallet thanks to his proximity.
“Yes,” Will said. He didn’t sound amused anymore. “Yes, that’s what I wanted to bring you out here to see. There’s a wild pod of dolphins that swims around here. I can’t always find them, but we got lucky today, I guess. I thought you might like to see them—”
“Jo!” Garrett’s voice cut through the moment—or whatever it was Will and I were having—like a rusty saw blade. “Get down here! You don’t want to miss this!”
That’s when Will seemed to realize what he was doing, and unfortunately—very unfortunately—dropped my hand.
“He’s right,” he said. “Why don’t you head down and take a look? You ought to be able to get a lot of nice photos for your social media.”
