Her hand wound up and around his wrist, and then, ever so gently, he brought his mouth to hers. His kiss was soft and gentle at first, and her mind shot off fireworks to mark the occasion.

Was this really happening? She opened her eyes slightly, just to be sure she wasn’t dreaming, and there he was—in all his gorgeousness, kissing her in earnest. She quickly closed her eyes again and let herself get lost in him. She laced her hands around his neck and inhaled his scent as his kiss grew deeper and more intense.

“Louisa.” The whisper of her name pulled her back years, back to simpler times when there was nothing between them but magic and light and all good things. Could they get back to that? Were they back to it now?

She drew in a breath as her tongue swept lightly along his bottom lip. He shivered, pulling her closer, kissing her so deeply it was as if he couldn’t get enough—as if there wasn’t enough of her to satisfy him. The sun shone brighter as she drank him in, and she was sure if she didn’t pull away, her entire body would light on fire. She was not sure, however, that she would even care.

When he finally broke away from her, they were both breathless and she wanted to start that entire scene from the beginning just for the chance to do it all over again.

“You’re really good at that,” he said.

“So are you.” She smiled at him as his face turned serious, and a feeling of dread washed over her. Was this when he told her that kiss was a huge mistake?

“McKenzie Palmer, really?”

She laughed and gave him a shove, certain that no day would ever be as perfect as today had turned out to be. And also certain she wouldn’t survive if she didn’t get to kiss him again this very moment.

“I thought you still hated me,” she said quietly, unsure how to process this sudden change in their relationship.

“I never hated you, Lou,” he said.

She let out a slow breath. “You maybe did a little.”

He kept his gaze fixed on hers. “Yeah, maybe a little.”

She looked down, but he hooked one finger underneath her chin and raised her face back toward him. “That was a joke.”

“Does that mean you forgive me?” She heard the desperation in her own voice, but she didn’t care about pretenses. She needed him to forgive her like she needed oxygen.

He pulled her in and held her close to his chest. She didn’t squirm or move, and for a long time she didn’t even breathe. She simply let herself be held.

“I’m so sorry.” Her voice broke and he leaned back, meeting her gaze.

“It wasn’t your fault, Louisa,” he said.

“That’s not what I asked you,” she said.