Jennifer McKenzie - Not Another Wedding

Fortunately, he was tall, with a long reach, and he’d played football in college. His reflexes were still good. His hand snapped out and caught her by the wrist. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“No.” She put her free hand on her hip. He supposed she thought she appeared intimidating. He wondered if she had any clue how she really looked standing there in her bare feet, her dress blown by the wind, showing off all her curves. “You didn’t say I had to kiss you now.”

He pointed to her shoes lying in a heap on the sand. “I meant those—” he hadn’t “—but I’m up for the kissing, too.”

Her eyes flicked toward the shoes, then her feet, then the wrist he still held. Beck tugged, slowly reeling her in, not letting the fact she tried to dig in her heels have any effect. The sand was useless for bracing anyway and he continued to pull until she pressed right up against him.

“You seem to be thinking a lot about the kissing.” He brushed away a piece of hair that had fallen across her cheek.

“I have not.” But her voice was breathless.

He rubbed both her arms as if to ward off a chill, but mostly to touch her and keep her tight to him. “Maybe we should get it out of the way so you can stop thinking about me that way. I’m not a piece of meat.”

“Nice try.” Her eyes met his, their bright blue sheen putting the sky to shame.

“I don’t hear you declining my generous offer.” And before she tried, he lowered his head and covered her lips with his.

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