“Which is probably why she’s being terrible. She’s actually very nice, normally. I think my rejection paired with turning around and kissing you on a park bench was a slap in her face.”

“Oh my word. Do I need to apologize to her?”

“What? Why?”

“For rubbing kissing you in her face?”

“Ah.” Oh wow, that would be something to see. “N-no. Better to let it go. I think she said her piece. If I know Duke, he’s letting her have it right now.”

Meg looks conflicted, and she bites her lip, which does nothing to keep me from wanting to kiss her for being so sweet and thoughtful.

And beautiful. God, she’s beautiful.

“He doesn’t need to do that. I’m okay.”

“Are you?” I check. “Because you don’t look very okay.”

Her expression is wry. “It’s just … the guilt is strong. I thought I would burn at the stake walking into church yesterday.”

My stomach sinks. I was afraid of this. “For kissing me?”

“For kissing you, sure.” She spreads her hands wide. “For thinking about kissing you all day and night, more like.”

All the blood rushes out of my brain. Easy, boy. This conversation has me all over the place.

“But you didn’t burn,” I say, trying to redirect.

“Apparently not.”

I move closer to her, taking her shaking hands in mine and trying to will some calm into her. “Meg, I can wait for you. However long you want. Even if nothing else ever happens, I’m okay. You know that, right?”

“I think so.” She nods. It’s timid, but it’s there.

“But I also don’t believe we’ve done anything wrong.”

Her navy eyes widen the slightest bit. But she remains firm, her hands steady. “I … am coming around. It’s hard to change the voice in my head.”

She moves closer, and I swallow hard. I drop my hands to my sides, not sure what to do and not wanting to push her.

“Okay,” she says. “I want to kiss you.”

“Anytime,” I say even as she’s inching closer and closer. I glance at the doorway, and she gives me a wobbly smile.

“I’m off the clock. My last job was to make the muffins for Dani.” Her eyes search mine. “I want to know what you taste like, Micah.”

I swallow again, but my throat is dry as wallpaper. “Okay.”

She takes my face in her small hands and presses her lips to the corner of my mouth, dragging them across to my cheek and my ear. I bite my tongue to keep from moaning and scaring her. Her hot breath does things to my insides, and I surreptitiously put distance between our lower halves.

Her tongue darts out to taste the space between my ear and collarbone, and my hands clench at my sides to keep from grabbing her hips and pulling them against me.