Page 62 of Her Favorite Fumble
“You had a good time, too.”
He nodded reluctantly, but then chuckled. “Yes, I did.”
“I bet Lavinia enjoyed it, too.”
He laughed. “Is that the same ghost you claim was blowing out your birthday candles or a different one?”
“Your skepticism is really showing. But anyway, that was definitely Lavinia. Jacob never goes upstairs, according to Willow, but Lavinia was definitely judging my birthday wish.”
“What did you wish for?”
Lucy froze, her mind blank except for desperately wishing she could take her words back. All she needed to come up with was something that a woman who died in 1932 would judge, and that had to be a big list. “If I tell you, it won’t come true.”
“You’re blushing, so now you’re going to have to tell me.” His grin was wicked, and a shiver went through her body. “What did you ask for that a ghost would find sinful, Lucy?”
“I didn’t say it was sinful,” she shot back, pointing at him. “I just said Lavinia was judging me. Maybe I was wishing for a gluten-free whoopie pie with dairy-free filling. That’s going to make a ghost baker from almost a century ago roll over in her grave.”
“There’szerochance you were wishing for a whoopie pie with no gluten or dairy.”
She had to admit that wasn’t one of her better attempts at stretching the truth. “It was just an example of the kind of wish Lavinia might judge me for.”
Was it her imagination or was Nick closer? The man was slowly advancing toward her, and that had to be why it was so hard to breathe all of a sudden.
“Okay,” she said. “Do you remember when we kissed after I sat on the sidewalk with Dolly and we agreed it was a bad idea?”
“I remember it very well.”
“And do you remember when we kissed the night you gave me my sparkly tree and we agreed it was areallybad idea?”
“Vividly.” His cheeks and neck looked a little rosy, too, so at least she wasn’t the only one suffering.
“And do you remember when we kissed yesterday and we didn’t talk about it being a bad idea, but we both knew it was.” He nodded. “Lavinia might have been trying to keep me from wishing for something that’s a very,verybad idea. Possibly the worst idea ever.”
Nick was close enough now to rest his hand on her waist, but he didn’t pull her closer. Instead, he waited until she took the final step to close the distance between them. With her body pressed to his, she wrapped her arms around his neck.
“It’s your birthday,” he said, his voice low and rough. “It’s a great day for worst ever ideas.”
Itwasher birthday, and she wanted to unwrap this man like a gift—slowly, and treasuring every moment.
He smiled, as though reading her thoughts in her eyes. “And since you haven’t actually told me what you wished for—specifically—it can still come true.”
Lucy cupped her hand behind his neck and pulled his lips to hers. The kiss was gentle at first, but Nick’s mouth grew more demanding, and she moaned into it.
Then he stopped, putting his finger under her chin so he could see her face. “I have a wish for your birthday.”
“Oh, I bet you do.”
“Take that thing out of your hair.”
It wasn’t easy, but Lucy finally tugged the oversize scrunchie out of her hair so it was free. Running her fingers through it to look for knots, she shook it to loosen up the curls.
Then Nick was kissing her again, hard and hungry, and a groan came out of him when he buried his hands in her hair.
“Your room or mine,” he whispered against her mouth.
“Definitely mine.” Nick might be sleeping in that bed, but it wasn’t his.
She gasped when he lifted her off her feet. There was a moment when he had to brace himself and she thought they were both going to fall. Laughing, she wrapped her arms around his neck.
