He seemed so defensive about his minor limitations. Was it because he’d been such a perfect specimen before the accident that he still couldn’t accept that he now had a few flaws? “I wasn’t worried about your vision,” she said firmly, then turned her head to look out the passenger window, making an effort not to stare at him.
Despite Trent’s occasional abrasiveness, which she’d come to accept as part of his personality, she had enjoyed the evening, she decided. It had been ages since she’d been out for a movie and a burger with a man. Probably not since college. Preston’s tastes had been somewhat more refined. A symphony performance and a gourmet meal in an exclusive restaurant would have been a more typical outing with her former fiancé. He’d hoped to finance a whole lifetime of such expensive evenings—with her money.
This casual excursion with Trent had been more special to her than any elegant evening she’d ever spent with Preston. Probably because she hadn’t chosen to be with Trent just to please her father.
Trent parked in front of her house and turned off the truck’s engine. He reached for his door handle.
“There’s really no need to walk me to the door,” she assured him. “I can—”
He didn’t even look at her. “I’ll walk you.”
She sighed and opened her own door. Someday this man was going to have to learn to listen.
He stood silently beside her while she unlocked her front door. Her hand still on the doorknob, she smiled up at him. “Thank you for this evening, Trent. It was exactly what I needed.”
“Me, too.” He seemed to be in the habit lately of brushing her hair away from her face. She wasn’t sure if she liked it or not—while it was nice in a way, the brush of his fingers against her skin was almost too much sensation to bear. It always made her shiver.
“Are you cold?” he asked, nodding toward the sweater she had draped over her arm.
“No, I—good night, Trent.”
It was his cue to step back and allow her to go in. He didn’t take it.
His face was very close to hers. She hadn’t left the porch light on, so the shadows around them were deep, their faces dimly illuminated by the security light on a pole beside the driveway. The darkness reminded her of the intimacy of the movie theater—only now there was no one else around.
She was abruptly, vividly aware of being alone with him. She wasn’t afraid of him, of course, but she was afraid of the way he made her feel.
“I’d better go in,” she whispered.
“Yes. You probably should.” But he didn’t drop his hand from her cheek, nor did he move away.
Her lips were suddenly dry. She moistened them with the tip of her tongue. “Trent?”
His gaze was focused now on her mouth. “I’m trying to talk myself out of kissing you.”
The muttered words made her throat tighten. “You are?”
“Yeah. It might help if you would push me away or something.”
She lifted a hand to his chest, but instead of pushing against him, it simply rested there, feeling his heart beating strongly against her palm. “I should push you away,” she murmured, trying to convince herself.
“Yes.” His other hand rose, cupping her face between them. His head lowered until his mouth almost, but not quite, touched hers.
The last time they’d stood this way, he’d come to his senses and backed off. Undoubtedly the wisest move, and one he would make again. Any minute now.
Propelled by the fear that he’d do just that, she took matters into her own hands. She tightened her fingers around the fabric of his shirt and closed the distance between them.
She had come to Honoria to make her own decisions. To try new experiences. And she had just impulsively decided that kissing Trent McBride was an experience she didn’t want to miss.
She might have taken the initiative, but Trent immediately turned that around. He gathered her into his arms and transformed her tentative kiss into an embrace that nearly singed her eyelashes.
She should have known, she thought, wrapping her arms around his neck, that Trent McBride would kiss like this.
He took a step forward, crowding her against the door, his mouth devouring hers. He was hungry, she sensed, with passion gnawing just beneath the surface of the emotional barriers he’d hidden behind. Trent was a very physical man, and his activities had been curtailed since his accident. She didn’t want to think he was taking advantage of the first opportunity that had presented itself recently.
And then his tongue slipped between her lips and she didn’t care what his motivation was as long as he didn’t stop kissing her this way.
The hands that made such beautiful things with wood molded her body from the curve of her hips upward, dipping in at her waist, shaping the swell of her breasts. She arched into his touch, bringing their bodies more closely together.