Leo rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
Tessa waved her hand over the table. “Leo, look what you’ve done here with this simple meal—you’ve taken all the details and created an experience. I can tell you’ve loved doing it. And I loved it, too. So we can give your dad an experience. Show him we’re serious.”
“Okay, you’ve got me thinking. I somehow have to get him to try something out of his comfort zone.”
He seemed so passionate about his ideas. Frustrated but determined. “I get how you feel,” she couldn’t help saying. “I feel the same way about baking.” She couldn’t help that her voice cracked a little. “I know what I want, Leo. And it’s more than baking bread. I’m going to do everything in my power to make that happen.”
He held his glass up again. “I think we just figured out what we have in common,” he said.
“What’s that?”
“We’ll both do what it takes to have our families succeed—despite themselves. So maybe we’re not as different as you think.”
Maybe not. In response, she lifted her glass. “Salute.”
“Santé,” he said.
Their glasses clinked.
“Thank you for dinner,” she said, setting down her wine and sitting back. “It was certainly unexpected.”
He shrugged. “It was easy. Glad you liked it.”
“It’s really hard for me to hate you when you do things like this.”
“Well then, maybe you shouldn’t. Because I’m pretty awesome.”
“Humble, too,” she said with a grin. She wished he didn’t look so handsome when he joked around. Because she was feeling those tingles again…everywhere.
They stood and began to clean up their plates.
Suddenly, Tessa had an idea. “I just thought of something both our cultures have in common. Have you heard of faire la bise?”
“Fair la what?” Leo asked.
“Cheek kissing. There are a lot of dos and don’ts about it.”
“I grew up greeting all our relatives like that. But I didn’t think there were rules.”
She stopped stacking plates. “Oh, yes. Strict rules. For example, you never put your lips on someone’s cheek.”
“Yep. Just touch cheeks.”
“And you never say MWUAH. Just let your lips do the talking.” She kissed the air to demonstrate, her lips making a little smack. “And sometimes you can put your hand on the other person’s shoulder.”
“What does that look like?” He frowned.
“Okay, just stand there,” she said. “Ah! Hello, my friend,” she said in a French accent, walking up to him. “How was your day?” She placed her hands on his shoulders and leaned in, intending to graze his cheek with hers. Except he turned at the last moment and their noses bumped.
“Okay,” she said. “Let’s agree that I’m going left first. So offer me your right cheek, okay?”
Except Tessa was slowly realizing that this little game was turning into a huge mistake. Because sitting across a table from Leo, admiring him and his nice lips from afar, was one thing, but actually touching him was another. Even if it had only been a nose bump.
Looked like just one glass of wine was one too many around him.
Although she was sober as a preacher and completely coherent.
“Okay, got it.” His eyes were lit with amusement. Clearly he was just thinking of this as…well, whatever it had been before she’d overthought it.
The air between them buzzed with currents. Unwanted, complicated, but definitely there.
Leo just stood still with a little half smile. And she couldn’t read him at all. Like, could it be possible her whole body was ready to burst into flames while he was completely unaffected?
There was nothing to do but finish this and back up. As quickly as she could. “Ah, hello, Renaldo, so lovely to see you again,” she said in her best French accent. Then she air-kissed both cheeks, making a polite little smack with her lips. This time he offered his cheek the right way, and it was over in seconds.
Whew. Cheek-kissing lesson over. Note to self: bad idea.
Except when Tessa released a breath and started to pull away, he grabbed hold of her arms and tugged her closer. And kissed her cheek. For real.
Her pulse jumped. Every muscle froze. The short, brief contact of his lips left a burning sensation on her cheek, and the firm, encompassing grasp of his hands felt imprinted on her cool skin.
“That’s cheating,” she said, struggling for lightness, but her voice came out raspy and hoarse.
She flicked her gaze up to his beautiful brown eyes, the same exact color of how she loved her coffee. He was staring at her—intensely. And she could not tear her gaze away. “Oh, Countess,” he said slowly, his mouth turning up in the slightest smile. “I never cheat.”
Countess? She couldn’t help the flush that rose to her cheeks. Because it was kind of cute. And very flirty.
Before she could say anything, he bent his head and lowered his lips.
She wouldn’t be able to remember later who initiated the contact, but somehow—for the first time ever—they actually met in the middle.
He kissed her tentatively, slowly—at first. He tasted like wine and smelled like soap, and the way their lips moved together was a long, slow dance that became more intense, more heated—like water on the stove coming to an inevitable boil.
His arms slid softly to her waist, and she leaned into his hard body. The contact was electric, making her head swim and her knees weaken and the quiet, now-starlit little patio spin out around them.
Leo’s lips were soft and warm and oh yes, very knowledgeable about kissing, and suddenly she was lost in the feel of him, his lean hardness, the gentle fierceness of his touch.
The kisses continued, deeper and more thorough. Leo took his time, moving over her mouth slowly. He savored her like he might his delicious food, kissing her with gusto, with assurance, and without compunction. His noticeable enthusiasm made her forget all her panic, all her reservations, and she found herself wrapping her arms around him to hang on as she lost her balance and her common sense.
The loud creak of the rusty back gate made them jump apart.
Tessa, dazed, pressed her lips together and struggled to get her weakened legs to hold her upright as Leo broke away and faced the gate, standing protectively in front of her. Someone was struggling with the rusty latch and cursing…someone who was crying.
Juliet.
Leo got to her first, unhooked the creaky latch, and opened the gate, steadying her by the elbow as he steered her toward Tessa. Cosette, who had padded out of the pachysandra to greet her, sensed something was off and bolted back into the brush.