Once Upon a Devilishly Enchanting Kiss (The Whickertons in Love, #1)

by Bree Wolf

“You got hurt!” He stopped in his tracks, his gaze hard as he looked down at her. “Whatever your motivation, you ought to have gone about it a different way.” His nostrils flared. “What were you thinking flinging yourself at them at such speed? You could have broken something or worse!” For a moment, Louisa was speechless. Never had she seen him like this. If she did not know any better, she would swear tooth and nail that he...that he had been afraid for her. But that could not be, could it?

Indeed, instead of rising to his feet, Phineas Hawke stayed where he was, his gaze locked upon hers. “If you wanted me in your bed,” he whispered against her lips, that insufferable, teasing note still in his voice, “all you had to do is ask.”

“Love and hate are both strong emotions. If we truly hate, it usually means that someone has hurt us deeply, and you cannot be hurt by someone who means nothing to you. Not in such a profound way.”

there’s nothing worse than living a life of lies, especially the ones you tell yourself.”

“How did you find me? My grandmother couldn’t have given you details. She never saw me leave. She never saw what I was wearing. She never knew—” His hand gently settled upon her shoulder, cutting off the words. “I’d know you anywhere,” he whispered almost tenderly, his dark eyes looking deep into hers.

“The Louisa I know would not cower. She would stand tall and find a way to deal with what happened. Always have you been strong. Always have you done the impossible. And never did you allow anyone or anything to intimidate you. That is who you need to be right now. That is who your sister needs to help her through this.”

Gritting her teeth, Louisa nodded. “Why didn’t you stop us? Why didn’t you stop me?” Her hands clenched together, her fingernails digging into her flesh. Leaning forward, her grandmother reached out a weathered hand and gently placed it upon Louisa’s clenched ones. “I know you’re hurting,” she said gently, an echo of Louisa’s pain visible in her pale eyes. “Still, you need to make your own decisions, the good and the bad. It is a life lesson, sometimes harshly taught, but always invaluable.”

“What else is there to say? You chose your friend over me,” a dark chuckle rumbled in her throat, “something that I—in all truthfulness—cannot even hold against you. Nevertheless—” “He was not my friend, and you have no idea why I said what I said!”

“I said what I said because I wanted you for myself!”

“Now that I’ve felt your passion, you won’t ever be able to deny it again.” A small smile teased Louisa’s lips. “You are incorrigible. I don’t know why I bother.”

“Intelligence represents our ability to learn and grow, to understand the world, to ask questions and seek answers, to find connections between things that seem separate, but it is not represented by one single skill. Being able to read does not make you intelligent, and neither does not being able to read mean that you are not intelligent.”

“I asked you to tell me,” she whispered against his lips, a playful note in her voice. Phineas chuckled. “I’ve always been better at show than tell.” And he kissed her again.

“our mother gave these to us, saying that the world of the written word opened up new possibilities for us. She told us to fill these notebooks with whatever held our hearts. She said it did not matter what it was as long as we cared about it enough to keep it close, to make a note of it, to remember it in the years to come.”

“People always find excuses for justifying something they know they should not do.” She shook her head. “Let’s not be like them. I want you to trust that I’m strong enough to bear whatever comes our way. Do you not want the same? For me to see you as my equal, a man I can always count on, a man I trust without hesitation, a man I can lean on whenever I need to.”