She seemed to hesitate, and he instinctively knew she was trying to decide whether to be honest or shrug away whatever was going on. “Not really,” she finally said.
Gil exhaled softly. “I’m a good listener, you know.”
She shook her head. “I’m not sure I want to talk about this. I thought I wanted to be alone, but now that you’re here…”
“Want me to come in?” he asked, hoping she’d agree. Not so much for himself, but because she looked like she needed the company. There was something vulnerable and lonely in her gaze.
She stared at him a long moment, rolling her lower lip between her teeth as she seemed to think on her answer. “I’m making dinner. Are you hungry?”
“Starving, actually.”
She opened the door wider and gestured him in. When she’d invited him inside on Saturday morning before the lock-in, Gil had been half-asleep. He hadn’t taken the time to look around her house. It was a small yet cozy space with modern furniture and homey items like soft throw blankets and shelves of books. There were framed pictures on Moira’s mantel that Gil longed to walk over to and look at. His focus needed to stay on Moira though.
He turned to her. “Need help with dinner?”
She shrugged. “I wasn’t prepared to make anything extraordinary. I hope you don’t mind. It’s just chicken noodle soup from a can.” She cringed.
Gil chuckled softly. “That sounds good to me.”
“Great. I’ll grab the bowls, and we can sit at the kitchen counter. My dining room table has become my makeshift campaign center right now.” She laughed quietly, but Gil didn’t hear any trace of humor in the sound. She was obviously upset about something, but he didn’t think it had anything to do with him for once.
“Hmm. Maybe I should sneak a glance over there and see what my rival is up to,” he teased.
“Maybe you shouldn’t,” she warned, giving him a half smile.
A couple of minutes later, she served the bowls of soup and sat down beside him under the low lighting of the kitchen.
“Okay, I’ll talk about it,” she finally said after another minute of quiet. She hadn’t even had a spoonful of her dinner yet. “I had a caller earlier in the day.” Moira stared down into her bowl, stirring around absently. “The caller went on a date last night. She met the guy in Magnolia Falls. She doesn’t remember getting home, and she felt hungover when she awoke this morning.” Moira’s voice cracked. Finally, she spooned some soup into her mouth.
“Wow,” Gil said. “Did you send her to a medical facility to get checked out?”
“I tried, but she started second-guessing herself. She shied away from my advice and disconnected the call.”
Gil waited for Moira to say more. When she didn’t, he figured that was the end of the story. “I bet it’s tough not knowing what happens with some of the people on the other line, huh?”
She looked at him. “The thing is, I kind of know what happens with this caller. Or I can guess. She’ll question what went on in the space she can’t remember. It’s hard not knowing what happened to your own body. Not being able to fill in the blanks. I’m guessing she didn’t have a Gil Ryan to come to her rescue.” She offered another small smile in his direction.
“Hopefully, she decided to take your advice once she disconnected the call. You might have gotten through to her.”
“Maybe.” Moira visibly swallowed. “Some days the dispatch is so boring that I literally finish an entire book and start another. Other days, it rips my heart out a little piece at a time.”
Gil reached for her hand and squeezed, leaving his palm covering hers. Her eyes subtly widened. They were green and brown, the most perfect hazel he’d ever seen. He searched them, drinking in the feeling of staring deeply into this woman’s eyes. She’d avoided him for so long that this hadn’t happened in nearly a decade. He’d missed the color of her eyes. Missed being up close enough to study the freckles dusting the bridge of her nose and cheeks. Did she even realize how beautiful she was?
“You’re staring at me,” she whispered.
He was scared to blink for fear she’d look away. “You’re staring back at me.”
She searched his eyes. “I always wondered. Why were you there that night?”
“Hmm?”
“I was on a date with Felix at the restaurant. You must have been there if you noticed that I was intoxicated. Why were you there?”
Gil finally blinked and looked away. He reached for his glass of water and took a sip, wondering how honest he wanted to be. “I was jealous. Felix asked you out, and you said yes. I was kicking myself for being too chicken to ask you out when I’d been wanting to for months. But Felix just marched in and seemed to sweep you off your feet. I guess I was there to make myself even more miserable than I already was.”
Moira’s expression revealed nothing if she was surprised. “Why didn’t you ask me out?”
“Because I thought you’d say no.” Gil glanced over, and his gaze unwittingly dropped to her mouth. What would it be like to kiss Moira? When his gaze returned to her eyes, she was looking at his lips as well. Was she thinking about kissing him too?
“What are we doing, Gil?” she finally asked in a small voice.
“Having dinner. That’s all. Unless you want more.” He was being bolder than he’d been with her before. He could feel her letting him in closer than she ever had though.
“It’s a bad idea.”
“Not from where I’m sitting,” he said quietly, leaning in almost against his will. Was she leaning too?
Her eyes fluttered up to meet his as her lips came closer. There was something vulnerable there in her gaze. He also thought he saw a quiet longing. As he wondered, she closed the distance, and her lips touched his. He felt like his heart might burst right through his chest while his mind fed it instructions: Don’t move too fast. Don’t move too slow. Don’t do anything to ruin this moment.
* * *
A kiss was just a kiss, but this was not just a kiss. Not with Gil. Moira knew he’d liked her for ages. Kissing him was leading him on, wasn’t it? The moment felt too good to end it though. His lips were warm against hers. His hand was gentle as it hugged her waist, anchoring her to the stool and to this moment.
A soft moan tumbled out of her. She pulled back and stared at him.
“Wow,” he finally said.
“Yeah, wow.” There really wasn’t anything more to say. “I’m still running against you.”
He let out a surprised laugh. “I wouldn’t expect anything different.”
“So what do we do about what just happened? Forget it?” Moira asked.
“Not possible.” He shook his head and straightened on his stool. “I can’t forget that kiss, and I don’t want to. Is there a law that says two people who are attracted to one another can’t date and also run against each other for the same office?”
“Date?” she asked. Equal parts of her were thrilled that he would suggest the D-word and appalled at the same time.
“What would you call what we’re doing right now?”