If he was surprised, it had faded by the time Jemima lowered herself from her tiptoes and gazed up at him. Her mouth curled into a pleased little smile at his reply, sure that was the best response she could have hoped for. He hadn’t minded, then. He had been pleased, too. And it was true: he had been kind to her every time they had met.
“Well, you are very nice,” Jemima put in, echoing her words from before with a playful added emphasis, to say one kiss on the cheek really doesn’t cover it. Her heart was racing in her chest, and she was tempted to give him another, proper kiss to prove it – and it was not her first kiss anyway; she had kissed Justice years ago under the mistletoe, so she knew kisses alone did no damage as long as no one else found out – but she was a little too nervous about it to dare. So instead she waited, just looking at him, leaving it to Mr. Humphrey-Mavis whether they lingered here a moment more or just moved on to the rest of the museum.
“Well, you are very nice,” Jemima put in, echoing her words from before with a playful added emphasis, to say one kiss on the cheek really doesn’t cover it. Her heart was racing in her chest, and she was tempted to give him another, proper kiss to prove it – and it was not her first kiss anyway; she had kissed Justice years ago under the mistletoe, so she knew kisses alone did no damage as long as no one else found out – but she was a little too nervous about it to dare. So instead she waited, just looking at him, leaving it to Mr. Humphrey-Mavis whether they lingered here a moment more or just moved on to the rest of the museum.
