1105 Yakima Street - Debbie Macomber [64]
They both seemed to realize what was happening at the same time. Breaking apart, they retreated, gazing at each other in shock.
Miranda could feel her face heating up with acute embarrassment. In all her life, she’d never been the one to take the initiative and kiss a man. Well, not the first time they kissed, at any rate. This was completely out of character.
“What was that about?” Will asked, frowning.
Miranda could play this one of two ways, she decided. She could be nonchalant about the whole thing and dismiss it as unimportant. Irrelevant. Or she could simply say he’d made her so angry that it was either kiss him or slap him across the face. And that being the case, she’d opted for the lesser of two evils.
Before she could choose which approach to take, Will raised one hand to his face and narrowed his eyes. “You just kissed me.”
“No one’s ever kissed you before?” she asked flippantly.
“Not like that.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Not answering, he turned away and then abruptly turned back. “Do you do that often?”
“Do what?” she said, playing stupid. Because that was how she felt. Stupid.
“Walk up to a man and kiss him,” he said. His voice seemed to echo around the gallery. Thankfully they were closed; otherwise, some unsuspecting customer might breeze in. But maybe that wouldn’t be so bad because she’d be able to escape.
“No, I don’t usually go around kissing men,” she admitted. “It seems to me you enjoyed it, though.”
“I most certainly did not.”
“Oh, please!” She laughed outright.
“What’s so funny?”
“You. Come on, Will. I don’t understand why you’re so thrown by a little kiss.”
“Why’d you do it?”
There wasn’t going to be an easy way to extricate herself from this awkward situation. She could confess that she was strongly attracted to him. No, that would be totally the wrong move. It would give him the upper hand, always dangerous with a man like Will. Acting defensive and ill-tempered protected her, although she’d rather burn at the stake than admit it.
“Explain,” he insisted.
“Ah…” She’d really done it this time. “It was a mistake.”
“Yes, it was a mistake. A big one.”
“Whatever.”
“As your employer, I’m finding this all rather…amusing.”
“You would find it amusing.” Leave it to Will to use this to embarrass her even further—although a moment ago, his reaction had been quite different.
“I prefer to kiss rather than be kissed.”
“Oh, you have rules for such things,” she murmured, not pointing out that he’d done his share of the kissing. This entire conversation was ridiculous. She yanked her raincoat from its hook and thrust her arms into the sleeves.
“Everyone has rules about kissing,” he said.
“Like I told you, it was a mistake. An accident…”
“An accident,” he repeated. “You’re joking. That kiss was probably the most deliberate action you’ve taken since the moment I hired you.”
“I moved the first Chandler painting,” she was quick to remind him, “the one that sold a month ago.”
He ignored that. “When I kiss a woman, I prefer she not be a big-boned, opinionated windbag.”
So now he was going to insult her. Miranda didn’t need to hang around for that. Grabbing her purse, she stomped out of the gallery.
“Where are you going?” he asked, following her.
“Why do you care?”
“I don’t. I’m just…curious.”
She was at the door, which stubbornly refused to open. She twisted the handle several times, but couldn’t budge it. So much for making a grand exit.
Will reached over and flipped the lock so that when she tried again she stumbled backward and almost fell into his arms. He clutched at her shoulders to steady her. It didn’t take much effort to shake herself free.
As soon as the door opened, she hurried around to the rear of the building where she’d parked. Again, Will followed her.
“What are you doing?” she asked sharply.
He didn’t answer, and it occurred to her that he was as bemused as she’d been. He didn’t know what he was doing or