Page 22 of How Sweet It Is (Willow Shade Island #3)

A melia squirms, and I can’t help it. I grin at her. “Was our dinner at La Cantina del Sol your first date?”

Her face flushes. “That was not a date.”

I walk to her. “Then, you haven’t had a first date?”

“My dating history is none of your business.” She folds her arms across her chest.

I pull her braid over her shoulder. She takes a step back, but I match it. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“I’m not embarrassed.”

I run a finger down her cheek. Her skin is warm and smooth, and it makes me crave her lips even more. “Then why are you blushing?”

“Because you’re standing too close.”

“I’m not standing as close as I want to be.” I don’t know why I say that. It just pops out. But it makes Amelia’s blush deepen, which is satisfying.

Amelia doesn’t say anything, so I try again. “How about testing your first date on me? It doesn’t have to be any big deal. I’d just like to try it without your handsy cousin around.”

Amelia snorts, which makes me chuckle. “He’s not handsy.”

“And he’s not your cousin.”

She doesn’t correct me. I stare into her deep-brown eyes. They’re like liquid pools of chocolate, and they mesmerize me.

“I can’t date you,” she whispers.

I take a step toward her, and she backs up, but the wall is behind her, and she can’t back away anymore. I place my hand on the wall behind her. “Can’t or won’t?”

“Can’t.”

I let this sink in. Why would she not be able to date me? Unless… she is in a relationship with Rafe and just didn’t want to tell me. “Are you dating Rafe?”

Her eyes grow wide, and she shakes her head. “No.”

At least that’s the truth. I can tell she’s not lying about that. “You’re not dating anyone?”

“No.”

“You’re not married, are you?”

She looks horrified. “No.”

“Then I don’t understand. Why can’t you go on a date with me?”

She takes in a deep breath and lets it out. “I’m sorry. It’s complicated, and I can’t talk about it.”

“Do you want to go out with me?”

The question hangs in the air between us as Amelia thinks about it. My gaze dips to her lips. They look soft, and I wonder if they taste as good as they look. “Yes,” she finally whispers.

A surge of energy flows through me. “But you can’t.”

“That’s right.”

I let out a frustrated breath. Obviously, something has happened, and she’s in some kind of trouble.

Rafe is here to make sure she’s safe. Rationally, I know I should stop asking her questions.

I should take her nonanswers and leave her alone.

But I’m having a very difficult time not pulling her into my arms right now and showing her how much I’ve grown to care for her.

She bites her lower lip, and attraction zings through me. I want to kiss her so badly I can’t stand it. I lean closer to her. “You can’t date me, but can we go out as friends?”

She looks at the ceiling for a moment. “I don’t see why not.”

Loopholes are awesome. I grin at her. “I’m glad. Because I’m a really great friend.”

A smile graces her lips. “I already know you are.”

“Good. And I want you to know that I’m here for you, if you need help with anything else.”

She lowers her eyelashes. “Like what?”

“I don’t know. I’m multitalented. I will bake for you and fill out your spreadsheets with whatever numbers you want. I can even provide top-tier, totally platonic kisses. You know, just in case you’ve never kissed a man before and want to try it out.”

Her cheeks flush pink again, but she doesn’t break eye contact with me. “Totally platonic, huh?”

“Absolutely. Just some friendly type kissing.”

“Have you ever offered this service to any other women? Or am I special?”

I take her braid and slide off the hair tie. “I can honestly tell you this is a special offer, just for you.”

I unravel her hair from the braid as she thinks about my offer.

“Well, I know your baking skills are top tier. Your spreadsheet skills, though, are lacking.”

“Hey,” I say as I comb through her hair, letting it spill over her shoulders, “I got you all the receipts you wanted.”

“Those crumpled-up ones don’t count. You got me those just because you hadn’t washed those jeans yet,” she mumbles, closing her eyes as I play with her hair.

“Okay, I admit, saving receipts isn’t in my nature. But I promise to deliver mind-blowing service on the kiss.”

Her eyes snap open. She searches my gaze. “I don’t know that I believe you.”

I lean close to her, my lips almost touching hers. It’s torture being so close yet not touching her, but I need her permission. “I promise,” I whisper.

Amelia hesitates for a split second before saying, “Prove it.”

I close my eyes and thread my fingers through her hair, brushing my lips across hers. The second our lips touch, every careless kiss I’ve had disappears like meaningless smoke. Those moments never touched anything real. Not like this one.

My lips move slowly across hers, sliding in time to a song only we can hear. She joins me in the dance, our mouths moving in a careful rhythm. Tentative, curious, like the first steps of a waltz.

But then something shifts. The tempo picks up, subtle at first, as her fingers slide up my chest, and I pull her closer. Our kiss deepens, turning from soft steps into a spinning whirl. It’s no longer a practiced pattern. It’s instinct, emotion, heat. We lose the count. We forget the rules.

Her breath hitches, and I chase it, matching her pace, then leading, then letting her take control. It’s a tango now. Bold, consuming, a push and pull of hunger and restraint.

I didn’t plan to fall for Amelia. I didn’t even like her at first. She was just the accountant with too many rules and not enough patience for my charm. But here she is, pulling me under with one kiss and undoing all the carefully built walls I didn’t even realize I’d put up.

Amelia’s hands grip my shirt, and she pulls me closer, and something inside me cracks wide open.

I thought I knew what kissing felt like.

Fun, easy, forgettable. But I was so wrong.

This kiss isn’t light. It’s not surface-level.

It’s deep and disarming, like she’s reaching places no one else has dared to touch.

Every woman before her feels like a mistake now. Like I’d been chasing the wrong things just to prove I could. I never knew how hollow it all was until now. Until her. Until this.

My heart’s pounding like it’s trying to tell me something I’m not ready to hear. But it’s too late. I already know.

This isn’t just a kiss. She means something more to me. She’s the shift I didn’t see coming. And I don’t think I’ll ever be the same. She curls her fingers into my hair, and it drives me insane. I deepen the kiss. I need more. I need her.

I pull back, barely. Just enough to breathe her in. Just enough to realize I’ll never kiss another girl the same way again. She looks up at me like she’s waiting for me to crack a joke, but I can’t. Not when my chest feels like it’s split wide open.

If this is what “just friends” feels like, I won’t survive the real thing.