9
996 Words
Chapter 9
The First Kiss
Three days passed after the dance on the pier.
Neither Leah nor Marco mentioned what had almost happened.
Instead...
They acted as if nothing had changed.
Which, somehow, made everything feel different.
Their conversations lingered longer.
Their eyes met more often.
Silence between them no longer felt awkward.
It felt comfortable.
Healing in a way.
---
Friday evening found Leah closing the bookstore.
Mrs. Whitmore smiled as she counted the register.
"You've settled in nicely."
"I think I have."
"I was worried you'd leave after a week."
Leah paused.
"So was I."
Mrs. Whitmore reached across the counter and squeezed her hand.
"Seabrook has a funny way of convincing people to stay."
Leah smiled.
"I've noticed."
Just then, the bell above the door chimed.
Marco leaned inside.
"Excuse me..."
Mrs. Whitmore looked over her glasses.
"...I'm here to steal your employee."
Leah laughed.
"I'm off the clock."
Mrs. Whitmore waved them away.
"Go on dear."
Then she added with a grin,
"And don't stay out too late."
---
"Where are we going?" Leah asked.
"It's a surprise."
"I don't like surprises."
"You've never had one from me."
"That's exactly why I'm nervous."
“Don't be”
Marco laughed.
After a fifteen-minute walk, they arrived at a grassy hill overlooking the ocean.
A faded blanket was already spread beneath a large oak tree.
There was a picnic basket.
Two lanterns.
And a small portable speaker playing soft acoustic music.
Leah stopped walking.
"You did all this?"
Marco suddenly looked self-conscious.
"It might've been a little too much."
She stared at him.
"No."
Her voice was quiet.
"It's perfect."
They ate simple sandwiches, fresh fruit, and slices of homemade pie Mrs. Dawson had secretly packed for them.
As darkness settled, the lanterns cast a warm golden glow around them.
The sea shimmered under the moonlight.
"I've never thanked you."
Marco looked at her.
"For what?"
"For finding me."
He smiled gently.
"I didn't."
"You did."
She shook her head.
"I came here believing I'd spend every day looking over my shoulder."
"But then..."
She looked into his eyes.
"...you kept giving me reasons to look ahead instead."
Marco didn't answer immediately.
When he finally spoke, his voice was almost a whisper.
"You did the same for me."
---
A comfortable silence settled between them.
The waves crashed softly in the distance.
Leah looked toward the stars.
"I don't want this to end."
Marco followed her gaze.
"Neither do I."
She turned to him.
"What happens when real life catches up with us?"
His smile faded.
"We'll deal with it."
"Together?"
He met her eyes.
"If you'll let me."
Her heart swelled.
"I'd like that."
A cool breeze swept across the hill.
Without thinking, Marco draped his light jacket over her shoulders.
She looked down at it before smiling.
"You always take care of everyone."
He shrugged.
"It's easier than letting people take care of me."
"Maybe you should let someone try."
He looked at her for a long moment.
"Maybe."
---
The music changed.
A slow melody floated through the night.
Marco stood and offered his hand.
"This time..."
He smiled.
"...no interruptions."
Leah laughed softly.
"I hope not."
She slipped her hand into his.
They danced beneath the stars.
No audience.
No curious neighbors.
No teasing children.
Just the two of them.
Halfway through the song, Leah rested her head against his chest.
She could hear his heartbeat.
It was racing.
"Your heart beat…. it's racing," she murmured.
He chuckled nervously.
"You noticed."
"It's hard not to."
"I'm trying to be calm."
"Why?"
He took a slow breath.
"Because every time I'm with you..."
He hesitated.
"...I forget what being lonely feels like."
Leah looked up.
Her eyes glistened.
"I know."
She reached up and cupped his face gently.
"So do I."
For a moment...
Neither of them spoke.
Marco searched her eyes as if asking a question he couldn't quite put into words.
Leah answered by taking one small step closer.
His hand brushed her cheek.
"So..."
he whispered.
"...can I kiss you?"
A smile spread slowly across her face.
"I was beginning to think you'd never ask."
He laughed quietly.
Then...
He kissed her.
Softly.
Tentatively.
Giving her every chance to pull away.
She didn't.
Instead, she smiled against his lips and kissed him back.
The kiss was gentle.
Unhurried.
Filled with everything they hadn't yet found the courage to say.
When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads rested together.
Marco smiled first.
"I've wanted to do that for weeks."
Leah laughed through happy tears.
"What took you so long?"
"I was terrified."
"Of me?"
"Of ruining this."
She wrapped her arms around him.
"You didn't."
He pulled her into a tight hug.
---
Later that night, Marco walked Leah back to the bed-and-breakfast.
They stopped at the gate.
Neither of them seemed eager to say goodbye.
"So..."
Marco smiled.
"...does this mean I can officially take you on a real date?"
Leah pretended to think about it.
"Hmm."
"I make excellent picnic sandwiches."
"They were slightly above average."
"My pie wasn't even homemade."
"I know."
He laughed.
"I've been exposed."
She leaned forward and kissed his cheek.
"I'd love to."
For a second...
Marco simply stood there, stunned.
She giggled.
"Goodnight." In the sweetest voice.p
Before he could recover enough to answer, she slipped inside.
Mrs. Dawson, who had been watching discreetly from the sitting room window, smiled to herself.
"About time."
---
Across town, inside the luxury hotel, Richard Bennett's investigator developed another set of photographs.
This time...
There was no doubt.
He selected the clearest image.
Marco and Leah.
Kissing beneath the stars.
He placed it on Richard's desk.
Richard studied the photograph for a long, silent moment.
Then he reached for his phone.
"Increase the surveillance."
"Sir?"
"I want to know everything."
His eyes remained fixed on the image.
"Because now..."
He slid the photograph back into the file.
"...she finally has something to lose.”
- Writer
