And finally, her lips. The kiss wasn’t the frantic meeting with writhing and gripping she was expecting, but a slow, sensual awakening that curled Reena’s toes. It was immersive. The strong, confident body under her. The scruff of his jaw on her live-wire skin. The heady scent of his amber beer and … him. She pressed closer. He kissed her like he ate her bread—savoring each taste like he’d been gifted a rare delicacy. She could kiss this man forever, making her life bearable as she let everything else blur away. It was frightening how right this felt.

Because it was wrong.

“Stop,” she said, loudly. Okay, that was maybe a little too loud. Startled, he disentangled himself, and she shifted six inches away.

“Stop?” he asked.

“Yeah. Sorry.” She took a deep breath and turned to face him.

“Don’t apologize. I should apologize. Sorry.” He blinked a few times, seeming as off-kilter as she was.

They stared at each other. Heart racing, she tried to put on a casual face. His lips were pursed slightly for a second, before he smiled wide enough for that damn dimple to emerge. God, that perfect little indent was going to be the death of her—she felt sure of it.

“Appears we both have this Canadian apology thing down pat,” he said.

“Yeah.” Breathe in. Breathe out. “Give me a sec, I have to collect my thoughts.”

Thoughts. Thoughts. What were they, anyway? Not surprise, she’d seen this coming. They had been carefully inching over that line of appropriate behavior for a while now. Reena got that “just friends” didn’t give innuendo-laced foot rubs. Or agree to go on a national cooking contest as a couple. Or spend almost every evening together for the last week. Denial wasn’t just a river in Africa. After two weeks of insisting she wouldn’t marry the man, she’d let this current between them take her closer to something even more dangerous. She’d developed feelings for him. Real ones, not just the physical lust expected for a man who looked like … him.

She inhaled sharply before speaking. “I’m just trying to make sense of you and this weird relationship. We’re getting closer … as friends, I mean … ” She exhaled. “You confided in me, and I confided in you, and we’re here for each other, but … ”

“I’m sorry, Reena. Really. Don’t freak out. I won’t cross the line again. You can trust me.”

Could she trust him? She squeezed her lips together. With her body, yes. She did trust him. Even with her feet. But with her heart? Could she trust him to be honest about his true feelings?

“I don’t … ” she started. “I mean, if we’d done that yesterday, I’d be … receptive … I mean, I wouldn’t have stopped. But after what you just told me … ”

He tensed slightly. Any other person may not notice it, but she could read this man like she could read the bubbles on the surface of her starter. She saw when it was sour.