The kiss should never have happened.
It began as a quiet meeting of mouths, tentative and reverent, as though both of them were afraid that if they moved too fast, the moment would dissolve like breath in the cold. Jeremiah’s lips brushed Michelle’s softly at first, barely there, a question more than an action.
Michelle answered it.
Her fingers curled into the front of his sweater, pulling him closer, and the restraint they had promised each other unraveled with frightening ease. Ten years collapsed into seconds. The cabin, the storm, the candles, all of it faded until there was only warmth and familiarity and the ache of something unfinished finally being touched again.
Jeremiah’s hand slid to her waist, tentative at first, then firmer when she didn’t pull away. His thumb traced the c
