It’s the little things that bring people together, and the little things that help keep them that way.
A chocolate left on a pillow, a box of chocolates for no reason, (do you see a pattern forming here? LOL), flowers just for the heck of it, a love note left in a lunchbox.
Let your partner know how much they mean to you, but don’t only do that on Valentine’s Day. Make your love show through on a daily basis, because after all, love definitely does make the world go around.
Here’s the ‘first kiss’ scene from my romantic suspense novel, Running Scared:
Emma filled the electric jug with water, turned it on and began to prepare the cups. She jumped, startled, as he came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her.
Noting her reaction, Gary realized it was not the first time he had startled her with very little effort.
“I’ve made a decision,” she told him.
Gary was at full attention. “And what’s that?”
“That you are very pushy.”
“I know what I want and go after it. And, I usually get what I want. Anyway,” he grinned at her, “you want it too.”
Emma’s jaw dropped open. “How can you say that?” she demanded. “I haven’t done anything to encourage you.”
“Liar! You wanted me to kiss you earlier. You know, at the park,” A smile creased his lips. “…before we were rudely interrupted.”
Emma’s cheeks flooded with color. He knew what she’d been thinking when they were standing alone, waiting for Sally’s ride to finish. He’d leaned into her, his mouth open in preparation. Just as she had parted her lips slightly, some damned kid with his damned ball interrupted them.
Gary spun her around in his arms. Their bodies were close, it felt right. Her hips gently touched his, her breasts softly pushed against his chest. She lifted her hands and put them against him, then gently pushed while arching her back away from him.
She was one hell of a woman, but boy, was she ever confused. When he looked into her eyes, she seemed to be pleading with him. Pleading for what? For him to kiss her? To hold her closer? For him to leave her alone?
He shook his head. Nah—she wanted him.
Gary leaned into her and claimed her mouth. His hands came up around her back, pulling her closer still.
Emma’s hands slid up from his chest and looped around his neck, her fingers sliding through his long hair, which tonight hung loose on his shoulders.
Gary began to massage Emma’s back with one hand, the other swimming in her silky brown locks. Emma’s eyes were closed, she was finally relaxing. He pulled her closer still.
The kettle began to emit a high-pitched whistle, and Emma suddenly pulled back, breathless. He looked down into her face. He was as breathless as she was, but his lips curled in amusement. “Still trying to deny what we both know?”
Emma touched her fingers to her lips. “I, er, have to make the coffee,” she said. “The jug’s boiled.”
He still held her in his arms, reluctant to let go as the whistling kettle continued to scream at them.
Gary felt like a teenager, totally infatuated. Only this was more than infatuation, there was electricity between them. More than electricity; more like lightning, he mused. He knew it, but Emma still hadn’t realized. Or maybe she had? He would just have to give her time to work it out.
Gary reached over, flicked off the power switch, and the whistle slowly died. He dove forward to claim his prize once more, but Emma quickly wriggled out of his arms before he could stop her. A slow smile crept to his lips. He liked a challenge.