a spray bottle, she sanitized the counter, found a couple of dirty cups left behind, then switched off the front light, locked the front door, turned off the diner lights, and went to the back.
Gideon had just begun to spray down the dishes he’d placed on the tray in anticipation of loading them into the dishwasher.
Libby reached around him to put the cups on the tray and bumped his arm. Water sprayed down the front of him.
“Hey!” The strangest look came over his face.
And then, she didn’t know why, but she shrugged as if she didn’t care in the least that he was saturated. “Sorry.”
She saw her mistake a split second later as a smile, a dangerous one that she’d never seen before, crawled up his face.
He turned the hose on her and depressed the sprayer.
Warm water soaked her—her hair, her face, her pink T-shirt under the white apron, the black uniform pants, her white tennisshoes. She screeched and turned to protect herself, but he didn’t stop, just sprayed her down the back.
“Stop!” Libby accompanied her cry with a lunge for the sprayer and must have taken him by surprise because she not only got her hands on it but turned it back on him, drenching his face, his hair, his clothes.
Gideon wrapped one arm around her waist, pulling her away, wrenching the sprayer from her grasp.
They were both breathing hard, laughing, dripping onto the floor. He had a nice laugh, deep and full, and she hadn’t really heard it, ever. It made everything inside her feel warm. He still had his arm around her waist, and as she wiped her face with her hands, she noticed how tall he was, nearly a half head taller than her. And strong—one-handed he’d muscled the sprayer from her without hurting her. But with his black T-shirt plastered to his body, she realized that he wasn’t nearly as skinny as he was fit.
He still wore the smile as he let her go and ran a hand down his face. He gave her a look, half disbelief, half mischief, shaking his head. “I should have known you were trouble.”
Her mouth gaped in mock indignation, but she never got a word out. Before she could blink, before she could catch her breath, before she could even think, he leaned down and kissed her.
It might have been a quick kiss, just for fun, but she leaned in and kissed him back. He tasted of water and something tangy, like soda. He moved right into the kiss, putting his arm around her waist again and pulling her to him.
Everything inside her simply exploded. She felt sensations she’d never experienced before—her heart racing, and fear, too, only with a sweetness that started in her toes and moved upward, towardher heart. She’d never been kissed before. Her arms went around his neck, and she lifted her face and loved the feelings that went through her. Not that she’d been dreaming of kissing Gideon—she’d tried not to think about it, actually. But now, everything that she felt about him, although new, she poured right into that kiss. And he kissed her back, as if he might be feeling exactly the same way.
Gideon pulled away. His smile had vanished. His hand came up and touched her face, as if he might be in shock, with his eyes wide. He swallowed, and a small smile began to curve his mouth. “I really like you, Libby. I really, really like you.”
Her breath caught, and for a second, although she knew he meant it in every good way, she felt sick, right in the pit of her stomach.
What was she doing? She forced a smile, stepping back from him, disentangling herself from his arms. She pressed her stomach, mostly to keep the churning inside. “Yeah. Okay. I . . . uh, I gotta go.”
He looked like he’d been slapped. “What . . . what did I do? What’s the matter?”
Libby turned, wiping a silly tear away. What was wrong with her? She hadn’t really expected words of undying love, had she?
No. But the reality of how far she’d let herself fall from her own standards rushed over her. She’d wanted to save her
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