Invitation to the Blues (Small Change #2)
Publisher: Monster Press
Release Date (Print & Ebook): March 28th, 2018
Length (Print & Ebook): About 81,000 words
Subgenre: Contemporary romance
Content warning: depression, suicide, thoughts of worthlessness, food issues
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Faron pulled me to my feet easily but didn’t let go of my hand. He drew me to him slowly—so slowly that I had time to pull away a dozen times.
My heart pounded as my chest drew flush with his and he wrapped his arms around me. It felt like sighing with my entire body. I hugged him back, pressing my palms against the musculature of his back. We stood there, entwined, just breathing, and I wanted to stay like that forever.
Tears pricked my eyes. It had been so damned long since anyone had held me, just held me, with nothing else at stake.
When Faron eased off like he might let go, I squeezed him back to me. Often, my sensitive sense of smell made me recoil from human scents. But he smelled good. Something fresh like grass and something warm like amber, and beneath it something dark and musky. The second I pulled him tight, his hand went to my hair. He tugged the elastic out and ran his fingers through it. I only heard his breath catch faintly because my ear was pressed close to his chest.
“Is this okay?” he murmured, one hand on my back and the other combing through my hair.
I kept my eyes closed as he worked the tangles out of my messy hair. I let it wash over me that, no matter how affectionate Faron was, this was probably more than a hug of friendship. I told myself that over and over, since I was capable of finding any of a hundred reasons to excuse the intimacy of his fingers in my hair and his arms around me. My stomach fluttered and I made myself breathe deeply in rhythm with the rise and fall of Faron’s chest.
There was a whistling noise, and then the scream of the teakettle, and Faron broke away, moving quickly to the stove as Waffle started snarling and my heart pounded.
Well. So much for the most peaceful I’d felt in years.
Faron turned the stove off but didn’t make the tea. He came back to me and looked at me intently. His eyes were intense. Searching.
I held my hand out, not even sure what I was reaching for, and he tangled his fingers with mine.
“Can I kiss you?” His voice was so soft I thought I’d imagined it for a moment. But when I nodded, he squeezed my hand and cupped my cheek with his other palm. Then he leaned in and kissed me. His mouth was luscious and my heart was racing at the first touch. The closeness of him, the press of his lips, was so intimate that I felt dizzy. He stroked my cheekbone with his thumb and eased back, thick lashes half lowered over his beautiful gray-brown eyes.
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