Читать книгу The Bad Boy Of Butterfly Harbor - Anna Stewart J. - Страница 3

“I’m glad we’re finally friends, Luke.”

“Is that what we are?”

“Wasn’t that the word you used? What else would we be?” This was not a road she could go down again. No matter how much she might want to.

Holly inhaled the scent of soap and the barest sweetness of berries. “Luke.” She barely breathed as she blinked and saw his hand come up, felt him cup her cheek in his palm. She leaned into his touch, fought every instinct roaring to life within her. He inched closer, slowly, so slowly she might have screamed in frustration. And then he kissed her. Soft, gentle, a promise, a hint. Nothing more.

“Thank you,” Luke murmured. He pressed his forehead against hers and squeezed his eyes shut, as if he were afraid to look at her.

She felt his warm breath brush against her skin. “You’re welcome.”

He released her and opened the door.

Holly didn’t hesitate. Didn’t stop moving until she was through the yard, past the gate and out of sight.

Only then did she stop to breathe, clutching a fist against her throat, unable to stop the smile from spreading against her still-tingling mouth.

“Friends,” she whispered, even as she thought of—and wanted—more.