Anthony wasn’t sure what had possessed him to kiss Ms. Torie in that moment, under that mistletoe, but he didn’t regret his decision for one second. She was so soft under his touch, so fragile, that he was almost worried about breaking her. He ached for more, to swipe his tongue over her bottom lip and show her an entirely new world, but he didn’t. Couldn’t. Even her little press forward was maddening enough, and when she pulled away breathless and flushed, something inside of Anthony cracked. He blinked at the lady as she said his name, so sweet and so lost. He wanted desperately to hear what came next, but nothing did. Should he apologize? Should he do it again? The brunette wasn’t sure. He cleared his throat then, breaking the spell a little bit as a soft blush heated his cheeks. He did know one thing he unequivocally had to do, and that was clear up this business with Basil. He could not leave this spot, rooted as he was in this moment, without knowing the truth. Without knowing… if this had any future or possibility at all.
He felt guilt at having kissed the lady, perhaps because of the Basil situation, or perhaps because it was simply improper to get fresh with a woman one had no intention of marrying but… that was the catch, wasn’t it? Anthony could have every intention of marrying Ms. Torie… if she let him. Gaze dropping to her hand that was still pressed against his chest, Anthony took it in one of his own, the other still lingering in the small of her back. “I’m sorry,” he couldn’t help but whisper. “I know that… wasn’t very appropriate, but…” I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time… “when under the mistletoe?” He offered her a sheepish little smile, not nearly as contrite as he ought to have been.