Page 5 of Beach Cottage Kisses

And turned his gaze back out to sea as he said, “I didn’t say I don’t love. I do. Which is how I know it exists. And I know that I’m good at it when I don’t have someone at home counting on me to be their first and always.”

Firstandalways. Two words she’d heard in the promises Sage and Gray had made to each other. He’d been Sage’s first love. And was her always.

But the way Scott said the words…as though he was as bereft as she’d once been…

Her hand moved, finding his, threading their fingers together.

It wasn’t like they hadn’t touched before. They’d walked the aisle together, arm in arm. Twice during rehearsal. Twice that night.

And had been holding each other all night on the dance floor.

So why did her fingers holding his suddenly seem like so much more than any of that?

The night was calling for more.

The night. Not life.

Looking at him, watching him study her, she said, “Just so you know, you’re the first person I look for on the beach when I get home. And I’m always happy to see you.” Truth.

It seemed important in that moment to offer it to him.

He watched her lips as she spoke.

And she couldn’t tear her gaze from his as he said, “I’m always happy to see you, too.” She watched as he leaned closer to her.

Knew the second his lips were going to touch hers.

Had to know what would happen when they did.

And didn’t recognize the sensation that shot through her.

At all.

Chapter Two

For a second, the fire in his groin was all he knew. Then his mouth opened, his tongue met Iris’s…

Scott jerked away. Stood up. All in the same move.

Iris must have done the same. She was on her feet. A yard away from him. Eyes wide. Staring at him.

With horror? Shock?

There was definitely no pleasure there.

Nor was he feeling any himself.

Panic consumed him. The women he kissed were separate and apart from his life. Mutually casual encounters, mostly. Except for Sheila. A widowed FBI agent who hit him up sometimes when she was in town.

Or had until he’d realized that she was beginning to look to him for more than just the friendly, enjoyable sex they’d agreed upon. He’d called her on it. She’d broken things off with him and he hadn’t heard from her since.

He wasn’t sorry about that.

“I’m sorry, Iris,” he blurted, standing there in his tux feeling like a randy teenager who’d stolen a kiss and was about to get slapped. “I don’t know why I just did that. I swear to you, I don’t think of you that way…”

Shut up!

His usual talent for articulation seemed to have evaporated.