She walked toward it, and he let go of her hand. The bench was a series of boulders, almost waist high and about six feet long. She traced her fingers along the rough stone, and then sensed him behind her. He placed his hands gently on her shoulders. She froze, and he ran his palms down her arms, back up to her elbows, and then down to her hands. He twined his fingers with hers and moved in closer. She shivered, and he let out the same gentle laugh as when he had said goodbye. “You’re lovely,” he said.

She felt the blood drain through her feet, and when he turned her gently to face him, she had to close her eyes to keep from losing her balance.

“I’m going to kiss you,” he said.

Okay, she thought. Okay. He pressed his lips gently against hers, a soft gentle kiss. His curls brushed her forehead, and she imagined him holding her arms behind her back, imagined him running a hand up her thigh and—but before she could finish the thought, he pulled away, and she opened her eyes. He was smiling, and she felt the crush of shame in her chest. Just a kiss, she thought, but the moonlight illuminated his lashes casting long shadows on his cheeks, and she couldn’t help but wish that dark something still there.

“We should head home, no?”

No, she wanted to say. But that was wrong—there was Mary to think about, and a million other things. Nevertheless, she couldn’t force herself to agree, couldn’t say, Yes; it’s late. Take me home, and they stood in silence until he finally reached for her. He took her wrists in his hands, his thumb and forefinger encircling each, and pulled her toward him.

“You don’t want to go home?” he asked, and spun her gently around, his hands still holding her so she was bound and close to him. She closed her eyes and felt his lips on her neck. “You’d like something else? Something more than a kiss?” he asked.

She drew a quick breath, felt it shiver through her body. His hands seemed enormous, her wrists like twigs, and she was suddenly aware of the intensity with which she had ached for this moment, how simultaneously terrifying and familiar it was. She swallowed hard, opened her mouth.

“Is that what you’d like?” he asked again. “Something more?”

Yes, she wanted to say, yes; but she could barely take a breath. Her head began to spin, large loping circles. She knew the answer, but even the thought of saying it aloud was enough to make her pull away. Sure she had thought it, but now, with him here asking for her permission, she couldn’t even open her mouth.

“Tell me,” he said. He tightened his grasp slightly, and the pressure of his grip seemed to squeeze the answer from her belly.