Chapter 17: The Tender Gesture

Before she could finish piecing the stray thought together or nervously look away, James reached out with deliberate slowness, his hand gently brushing a stray lock of dark hair away from her face with infinite care. His fingers lingered for a suspended fraction of a second against her flushed cheek, rough-skinned from heavy labor on truck engines and aggressive varsity sports, yet impossibly gentle as they traced the delicate curve of her jawbone in the quiet dark of the ridge.