Page 133 of The Christmas Sisters

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bsp; “This thing between us—I didn’t expect it to happen.”

Neither had she, and she didn’t know what she was supposed to do about it. “You should leave. I’m taking a group from Edinburgh climbing tomorrow, and I should get some sleep.” She levered herself off the sofa. “Close the door behind you.”

He hesitated and then walked to the door.

It was only when it was obvious he really was leaving that she discovered she didn’t want him to.

As he bent to pick up his boots, she stopped him. “I have one question. If Beth hadn’t outed you tonight, when would you have told me? Would you have told me?”

“Of course. As for when...” He shrugged. “I was enjoying what we had, and I was afraid to ruin it. I intended to say something as soon as I felt the time was right, but the longer I left it the harder it was to find that time.”

“Well, at least that’s honest.”

He’d lost his parents, too.

And he hadn’t uttered a word against Suzanne, even though he wouldn’t have been old enough to make his own judgments when they’d died. There must have been times when he’d asked himself if Suzanne was to blame.

He’d also lost his aunt, who had presumably been like a mother to him.

She discovered that she wasn’t angry anymore. Life, she knew, was complicated. Also unpredictable and, for some, far too short, which made it all the more important to make the most of every moment of time.

Her sisters wouldn’t understand, but that was their problem.

Making a decision, she stood up. “I’m sorry you lost your parents. I’m sorry you’ve lived with that, too, and I’m sorry I yelled. I’m sure your aunt was a good person.” She stood in front of him, the pools of melted snow by the door oozing through her socks and chilling her feet.

“She was a good person. Good people sometimes behave badly.”

She had a feeling she’d done just that.

Presumably he was as protective of his family as she was of hers.

Posy put her arms round his neck and rose up on her toes. “Kiss me.”

His mouth hovered close to hers. “Does this mean I’m forgiven?”

“I’ll let you know.” She drew his head down and felt a flash of desire so strong it made her gasp against his lips.

“Are you making your decision on that based on what happens next?” He fumbled with the zip of her jeans. “Because you might give me performance anxiety.”

She ripped at his jacket, tugged at the hem of his sweater and almost stumbled stepping out of her jeans. “I have a feeling you’ll cope.” She’d never been in such a hurry for anything before, but Luke, for once, didn’t share her haste.

There was a flush across his cheekbones, and his breathing was unsteady, but he held her shoulders, keeping her at arm’s length.

“There’s something else I need to say.”

She could barely focus. “Can it wait?”

“No, because I don’t want you to accuse me of keeping things from you.”

Now what? “Whatever it is, tell me. I should warn you that unless you are about to confess to a series of major crimes likely to earn you a lengthy jail sentence, nothing is likely to make a difference to what happens next.”

“In the spirit of honesty and having everything out there, I should confess that I think I may have feelings for you.”

Relief mingled with giddy delight. “You only think?”

“It’s all new to me.”

She had feelings, too, and she wasn’t sure if those feelings were a good thing or a complication, and right now she didn’t care.


Tags: Sarah Morgan Romance