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You then spilled tea all down your floral dress, snapping at me when I made a—very clever—joke regarding watering gardens.
“I’ll let you do anything you want to me, Cora. But I won’t permit you to regret me.”
“I love you without condition.” He drew her against him, brushing an achingly soft kiss against her mouth. “That means I love you even if you don’t say it in return.” In a hundred unwitting moments, Cora had tripped, she had stumbled, she had pitched halfway in love with Nate Travers. And on the most ordinary Thursday in July, she fell the rest of the way.
