Sliding her hand into his hair, she marveled at the silkiness of those chestnut brown waves as her lips moved with his, guided in a slow and wondrous dance. In truth, she marveled at all of him. He was still the Percival she had seen every summer for years, yet, somehow, he was entirely new.
For he is mine… and I am his.
Pulling back, certain that he would hold her steady, she peered up into his beautiful eyes… and made the most believable scowl she could muster.
“How dare you,” she whispered.
He frowned, taken aback. “Pardon?”
“How dare you… kiss me before I have said my piece,” she replied, fighting the grin that longed to curve upon her lips. “I told you not to interrupt while I am soliloquizing, and you should certainly not interrupt while I am thinking very deeply indeed. Evidently, you believe a kiss is the best way to distract me.”
His frown softened into a slightly raised eyebrow. “Am I mistaken?”
“No, but that is beside the p?—”
He kissed her again, his smile giving him away. She had never known a kiss could be playful before. Truly, she was looking forward to discovering every kind of kiss there was to discover.
“Outrageous!” she chided through her laughter, as she pulled back once more. “Why, it is almost as if you do not wish to hear my response!”
He bent his head as if hewasabout to interrupt her with a third kiss. Instead, he rested his brow against hers and brought his hands up to cradle the sides of her neck, his thumb brushing that sensitive skin.
“I love you,” he murmured. “Now, I shall be silent.”
She closed her eyes and gripped his lapels. “Despite everything you might have witnessed to the contrary, I am so very fond of you,” she whispered, her heart swelling in her chest. “If I had my paper and ink with me at this very moment, I would write a letter to myself, detailing my perfect match. My true love. It would be a letter containing just one word.”
“And what word would that be?” he asked.
“Barnacle.”
He chuckled in the back of his throat. “And what would mine say?”
“Catchweed,” she replied softly, opening her eyes as she smoothed her hand upward, until she reached his cheek.
“Quite the pair.”
Anna nodded. “Quite the pair.” She swallowed thickly. “I do not know how long I have been falling in love with you, Percival, but… I am entirely on the floor now.”
“What does that mean?” he asked, visibly bemused and amused at once.
“It means…” She took a deep breath, not knowing why she was so nervous. She had read the words ‘I love you’ so many times, she had daydreamed of those three words being given and received, she had heard her dearest friends saying it so easily to their own beloveds, so what was the matter with her? Why did it feel like she was about to be pushed on stage to give a grand speech she was ill-prepared for?
Because you never thought it would happen. Because saying it to him, and meaning it too, is the stuff of your dreams.
“Anna, if you do not feel the same way, do not feel obliged to say it,” he told her gently. “Perhaps, it is something that will grow with time. Perhaps, it is?—”
“I love you,” she said, her heart almost bursting with giddiness. “Percival, I love you!”
Rising up on her tiptoes, she kissed the delighted surprise from his lips, sealing her words with a promise that she meant it. Wholly. Truly. With every fiber of her being, she meant it, and as someone who had lived and breathed love for the entirety of her life, she did not take that lightly.
CHAPTERTHIRTY-TWO
Percy scooped Anna up into his arms and swung her around and around, his joy overwhelming. He kissed her, he held her, he gazed at her in disbelief that she loved him, and he loved her. If anyone had told him just a few days ago that he would be capable of feeling such lofty heights of euphoria, he would not have believed them.
“Anna?” he said, as he set her back down on solid ground and pulled the sides of his greatcoat tighter around her.
She smiled. “Yes, my love?”
My love…His heart soared at the precious words.
