Chapter Eight
201 Words
The kiss changed everything.
And absolutely nothing.
Because the next morning, both of them pretended to be normal.
Which was laughably impossible.
Elena stood in the kitchen clutching coffee while Rowan repaired cabinet hinges.
The silence between them practically vibrated.
Finally, Elena snapped.
“We kissed.”
Rowan glanced up calmly.
“We did.”
“That’s all you have to say?”
“What would you like me to say?”
She opened her mouth.
Closed it.
Excellent question.
Rowan set down his tools.
“Elena.”
Her pulse accelerated instantly.
“You don’t do anything halfway,” he said quietly. “And neither do I.”
The air shifted.
“This town already thinks we’re heading toward disaster.”
She tried for humor.
It came out breathless.
Rowan stepped closer.
“Are we?”
Elena looked at him.
At the patience in his eyes.
The restraint.
The years of history between them.
Then she answered honestly.
“I don’t know.”
His fingers brushed her wrist lightly.
“Me neither.”
But he still leaned down and kissed her again.
Slowly.
Carefully.
Like he intended to memorize her.
And Elena realized uncertainty had never felt so much like hope.
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