Page 103 of Hearts of Locke Hill
She glanced in the direction of the school and then back to the trees. “Lovely. Moving forward.” She dropped her chin a moment, then met his gaze directly. “I’m forfeiting the headmaster job to you.”
He huffed out a laugh, but when she remained sober, he stilled. “You’re not serious.”
She turned back to the hill and lifted her chin to the sky. “I am. I’ve discussed it with my parents. We are in agreement.”
He frowned. “I’m not.”
She turned to him, raising her hand to her brow as the sun peeked over a cloud behind him. For a moment, her eyes hadbecome like sea glass before she shaded them. “Majority rules,” she said.
He shook his head. “You never allow a win. Not on purpose.”
“I must be growing up. If I had a white flag”—she brushed her hand to and fro through the air—“I’d wave it. I surrender to the enemy.”
He caught her bare hand in the air, and the entirety of Locke Hill seemed to still. In the silence, he only noted their breaths, syncing as her gaze riveted on his.
He took a step closer, her face lifting in challenge as he did so. But it was there: a flash of uncertainty. A flash of softness. Of wanting.
For him, it was a flash of courage.
“When,” he said, breathless, “will you get it into your brilliant, exasperating,beautifulhead that I am not your enemy? I am yourally.” He slid his fingers to interlock with hers. “I always have been.”
She studied him, and he could almost see the memories flipping before her like pages in a book. He brought her hand to his chest and covered it with his other. “I am. Not. Your. Enemy.”
Her lips moved in silence, as if she were selecting the words she needed at the moment. Her jaw firmed, and her brow rose. “Even when you tricked me into believing I could make glue for my paper dolls by stirring wood chips in rainwater and left me stirring for two hours?”
He narrowed his gaze, sensing her shift of mood. “Perhaps not then. In my defense, you were demanding that I play paper dollswithyou.” He lifted her hand slowly and kissed her fingers, watching her as he did so.
Her nostrils flared, her eyelids fluttered. “Or … or when you told me an isosceles triangle is more commonly referred to as thepons asinorum? And when I shared as much with our tutor, the man turned purple.”
He bit back a chuckle and moved his kiss to the inside of her wrist. “Nor then either.” Her pulse had quickened beneath his touch.
She gave a slight shake of her head, as if to orient herself. “I had to write lines. A hundred of them.I will not use Latin in an unladylike manner.”
“I’m certain it was just dues.” He kissed her soft wrist again.
“You hid the chessboard from me,” she whispered, closing her eyes. “I couldn’t find it for days.”
His hand slid gently up her arm. “Gads, woman, is there anything you do not remember?” He smiled at her shiver.
Her eyes opened, her gaze dropped to his mouth, and she shook her head. “It is a blessing and a curse.”
She moistened her lips and he drew in a ragged breath.
At once they stepped together, meeting in a long, sensuous kiss. His hands roamed her sun-warmed skin as her fingers pressed through his hair. This was not a frantic embrace.
It was a reunion of hearts.
“Violet,” he whispered, pulling his arm around her waist, pulling her closer.Home, he thought.She feels like home.After these weeks, years, walking this disorienting maze of life, Violet felt like home.
She responded, humming an insistent sound that sent shivers to his core.
He broke the kiss, nuzzling the contours of her cheek. “You won’t be giving up the chance for the position,” he said before finding her lips again.
She pulled away, barely, at the same time gripping hisshoulders. “Are you telling me what to do?” Her words brushed against his mouth.
“I would never,” he said. His grin broke them apart, and they stood for a moment as if wondering at each other for the first time. Her eyes truly held every memory of the two of them, and he read them as if they were yesterday. “You are truly astonishing. Do you know that?”
She gave a little nod, her eyes round. “I know it.”
