First Kiss Friday

First Kiss Friday

»»————- ♡ ————-««
Every Friday I share the first kiss from a book. This week it’s Finding Rebecca by Janis McCurry.
She’s the good twin…until a hunky cop coerces her into pretending to be an exotic dancer.
»»————- Finding Rebecca ————-««

“No, of course not.” He shook his head. “There’s no way out of this, is there?”

“There must be. We can’t actually pretend to—” She looked at him uncertainly, then took a sudden interest in the garage floor.

“—Be lovers?” He finished for her.

He could smell her perfume as it worked on him. It was the same scent she’d been wearing when she’d danced, hell, practically made love to him without even touching him. “Mom’s smart and so are my sisters. Let’s just say that I’ve never had many platonic women friends. And besides, they’d never buy it because of how you look.”

He was close enough now to wonder if her skin was as soft as it had looked when she’d all but offered herself to his touch. He reached out and ran his forefinger along the gentle curve of her cheek before he knew he was doing it. No, it was softer.

“What do you mean?”

“They’d know I could never resist such a beautiful woman.”

 “I don’t think—”

“Great, you shouldn’t. Sometimes thinking can only get you into trouble. It has me.” He watched her.

They were standing close together, almost touching. He leaned in and whispered, his lips just grazing her ear. “C’mon, Rebecca. Let yourself go with it. You can act up a storm pretending to be my”—her eyes flew to his—“be involved with me.” He felt rather than heard her sigh of surrender.

“I suppose I could try.” She pressed her hand against his chest just over his heart.

He closed his eyes to hide his strong reaction to her artless gesture. He knew it wasn’t a caress, but damn it all, his body didn’t know the difference, and it wanted the attention. He’d have to get it under control if this charade was going to work.

“That’s my girl.” He smiled at her grimace and stepped back, breaking the slight contact. “Now my only problem is getting through this damn dinner.”

“I don’t understand.” Rebecca looked puzzled.

“That’s not something you have to worry about.” He turned away, unable to look at her. “Are you ready?”

“I guess so.”

Jack turned back and reached for her hand. “Then, come on, a ghrá, Act One is about to start.”

“Wait.” She pulled back. “A ghrá?”

He smiled. “It means ‘my love’ in Gaelic. Mom taught us a few words.”

“Hmm, I’ll have to look it up. I haven’t researched the language.”

“Why does that not surprise me?”

“A ghrá,” she repeated. “I like it.” She smiled shyly.

She looked so damn cute; he found himself leaning over and pressing a quick kiss to her lips before he could stop himself. They were as soft as he’d hoped. He didn’t dare look at her to gauge her reaction. He didn’t quite understand why he’d felt the need to kiss her.