Page 20 of Falling for Him (Honey Leaf Lodge #3)
Ben
I’d had good kisses before.
Even great ones, by some people’s standards.
But nothing, nothing , like kissing Fifi.
It wasn’t just a spark. It was a full-body surge, like plugging into a live wire and realizing you never wanted to disconnect.
Her lips had tasted like chocolate and firelight and something maddeningly addictive.
Her fingers had clutched my shirt like she didn’t trust the earth to stay solid beneath her feet.
And hell, I didn’t either.
Because everything I’d been trying to hold back cracked wide open the second I kissed her. All the reasons I told myself to stay guarded, to stay out of it—safety, distance, logic—melted faster than the marshmallow she never finished toasting.
I hadn’t meant to kiss her.
Not yet.
But then she looked at me with those impossibly wide eyes, mouth twitching with words she hadn’t said, and I couldn’t hold back anymore.
Now I couldn’t stop thinking about it.
Or her.
Or the way her body fit so easily against mine like we’d been circling this moment for longer than we knew.
I could still feel her in my hands. The heat of her waist, the shape of her back. My thumb ached from where it had brushed her cheek.
We stood close, her breath catching, her chest rising and falling just inches from mine.
Neither of us moved.
Neither of us wanted to move.
She smiled, the kind of shy, stunned smile that felt like the aftershock of something much bigger. “Well.”
I raised a brow, not ready to break the tension. “That’s all you’ve got?”
Her lips twitched again. “I’m collecting my thoughts. Give me a minute.”
“I think I short-circuited mine.”
She let out a breathy laugh, and I swore the sound alone made my chest feel too tight.
“Okay, I—” She rubbed her fingers together, visibly flustered. “Full disclosure. I’ve never kissed a guest before.”
I blinked.
“You haven’t?”
She shook her head, eyes wide and bashful. “Nope. Zero guest-kissing record. This is new territory.”
I tried not to smile, but it slipped out anyway. “Well, I’m honored to have broken the streak.”
“You should be. I have standards.”
“You also have a battle plan called Lure the Man. ”
She gasped and slapped my arm. “That was supposed to be private!”
“It was pink and wide open on the front desk. I can’t be held responsible for the universe putting it in my path.”
She rolled her eyes, still smiling.
“I’m surprised,” I admitted, stepping a little closer again, unable to help myself. “You strike me as someone who charms people for sport.”
Her cheeks flushed, and this time she didn’t laugh.
“I joke a lot,” she said, quiet now. “I flirt, I distract... but it’s just how I am. It doesn’t usually mean anything.”
“And now?”
She looked up at me, no teasing in her eyes. Just honesty.
“Now it means something.”
The words hit like a punch to the gut in the best way.
I didn’t know what to say. Not yet. But I felt it too. And for the first time in a long, long time, I didn’t want to run from that feeling. I wanted to stay in it. Sit with it. Let it wrap around me and see where it went.
Still, I couldn’t resist just a little push.
“So what’s the protocol?” I asked. “Do I sign a guest waiver before I kiss you again?”
She groaned. “You are the worst. ”
“I’m serious. I need to know if I’m in violation of any cozy lodge policies.”
She jabbed her finger at me. “I will make you stack kindling for penance.”
“I think that’s an innuendo.”
“I think you’re impossible.”
“I think,” I said, my hand brushing her arm, “you taste like fire and chocolate and something I’d like to taste again.”
She froze.
Then, slow and deliberate, she said, “Well… I do have extra marshmallows.”
It was an invitation wrapped in sugar, humor, and nerves, and I wanted to unwrap every layer of it.
I leaned in again, just enough for her to feel the shift in the air.
But this time, I didn’t kiss her.
Not yet.
I let my knuckles skim down her arm, my voice low and rough. “Let me know when the third kiss is officially approved.”
Her breath caught. “You’ll be the first to know.”
I stepped back. Not far. Just enough.
Because I wanted her to want the next kiss just as much as I did.
And judging by the look in her eyes?
She already did.
The air between us still buzzed, even after I stepped back.
The fire had burned low, crackling quietly behind us, casting warm shadows on her face. She stood there watching me, arms crossed loosely, a soft smile playing on her lips like she didn’t quite know what to do with it or me.
Neither did I.
But for once, I wasn’t trying to figure it out. I just wanted to stay here in the moment, let it soak in. The kiss. The laughter. The ridiculous marshmallow negotiations.
“I should probably head home,” she said finally, voice quiet but laced with reluctance.
My stomach dipped, stupidly, like I wasn’t ready for her to go, which was absurd. We were gathered around a fire pit at a family-owned lodge in a small town in Wisconsin. There were probably raccoons watching us right now.
Still, I nodded, offering a small smile. “Big day of innkeeping tomorrow?”
She rolled her eyes. “Very glamorous. I’ve got linens to rotate and probably some mild goat wrangling before lunch.”
“You say that like it’s not impressive.”
“I have range,” she said with a smirk. “Try to keep up.”
She turned slightly, gaze sweeping the path back toward her car, but didn’t move. Her eyes flicked back to me, thoughtful.
“What?” I asked.
She tilted her head. “Nothing.”
“You’re thinking something.”
“I think a lot of things.”
“Fifi.”
She hesitated, then grinned. “Okay, fine. Pack for a hike tomorrow.”
I blinked. “Come again?”
She took a step back, holding up a finger. “Not just any hike. A day hike. You’ll need water, snacks, and your best leave-me-alone attitude.”
I stared at her, half amused, half skeptical. “You want to take me hiking?”
“I want to take you somewhere. But I’m not telling you where. It’s a surprise.”
“That’s suspicious.”
“That’s the point.”
“You won’t leave me there, will you?”
“Depends.”
I should’ve said no or at least hesitated. A hike with the woman who’d just kissed the logic out of my brain was a risk.
I termed it emotional exposure. A whole day without distance to hide behind.
But when I looked at her eyes bright, hair half-wild, arms tucked against the night chill, I couldn’t bring myself to shoot her down.
I wanted to go.
Not because I needed the exercise, but because being near her made me feel... lighter.
Like I could almost remember what it was like to feel good, and I hadn’t felt that in a long time.
“What kind of hike?” I asked, just to mess with her. “We talking extreme mountain terrain or stroll-through-the-woods-with-a-picnic-basket?”
She smirked. “Somewhere in between. There may be a lake. Maybe a view. Maybe a deeply personal conversation if you’re lucky.”
“That sounds dangerous.”
“I like dangerous.”
Of course she did.
I shook my head with a low laugh. “Fine. You win. I’ll pack for a hike.”
Her grin was victorious. “Meet me in the lot by eight. And bring coffee. I’m not responsible for my attitude if I’m uncaffeinated. If I’m feeling frisky, I might knock on your door early.”
“Deal.”
She lingered one second longer, gaze dancing over me, like she wanted to say something else. But instead, she turned and started down the path, her footsteps soft in the gravel.
And just like that, the night swallowed her up.
I stood there for a beat, blinking up at the stars, my pulse still humming. The fire had burned down to embers now, the occasional snap of a log reminding me that time was still moving even if everything else had slowed.
Then I turned toward the lodge, making my way up the stairs and back to my room.
And as I passed the window, I caught my reflection in the glass—just me, same guy, same face, same guarded lines.
But I was smiling.
And for once, it wasn’t guarded at all.
I ran a hand over my jaw, still feeling the ghost of her lips on mine.
What the hell was happening to me?
This was supposed to be a two-week recharge. A break from people. A way to clear my head after... everything. I came here to be quiet , not to banter over marshmallows and kiss the innkeeper under the stars like I was auditioning for a second chance at joy.
And yet.
There she was.
Fifi.
In every corner of my thoughts, even when she wasn’t talking. And when she was talking? I never stood a chance. She was like caffeine with a soul. All buzz and brightness, but warm too. Grounded in something that made me feel steady in her orbit, even if I didn’t understand why.
I rubbed my chest absently, like I could smooth out the tension building there. Not the bad kind. Not anxiety or dread or anger.
Just... the kind that came with wanting something.
Wanting her.
And that scared the hell out of me.
I wasn’t someone who did spur-of-the-moment. I made plans. I kept expectations low. I protected myself with distance, with silence, with sarcasm.
But somehow, that woman saw right through it all, and now she wanted to take me hiking.
I almost laughed at the absurdity of it.
If anyone else had asked, I would’ve declined without blinking. But with her?
I was already thinking about what boots to wear.
I headed inside and climbed the stairs to my room, the familiar creak of the lodge settling around me like an old quilt. My shoes hit the rug with a soft thud, and I peeled off my flannel, tossing it over the back of the chair as I crossed to the window.
The path outside was empty.
Her car was gone.
But I could still hear her voice in my head—light, teasing, warm. Like something you didn’t realize you needed until it was handed to you with a grin and a chocolate-covered marshmallow.
My mouth curved without permission.
I stood there for a long time, one hand braced against the cool glass.
It had been so long since anything felt good without strings. Without guilt. Without the looming weight of what came after.
And yet here I was.
Smiling.
Already looking forward to tomorrow.
Already wondering what other surprises she had up her sleeve.
Already sinking into something I wasn’t sure I could name.
But I wasn’t fighting it.
Not tonight.