Chapter 41

“Yeah,” Jude said quietly. “I still want to. If you do?”

“Yeah,” Anton whispered, and smiled. “Actually, right now I just sort of want to kiss you.”

Jude beamed that ridiculously good-looking smile, and tilted his head again. “So…just get up, walk around the table, plant one.”

Anton felt his own smile wobble at the edges, everything a little too raw—but he did it. He got up and cupped Jude’s face in both hands, still slightly too cool from the journey, and kissed Jude firmly on the mouth, trying—

He didn’t know if you could show thanks, appreciation, apology, admiration, and flat-out adoration in a kiss. He didn’t know if you could, and he certainly didn’t know how. But he wound his fingers into Jude’s hair, and felt a heavy hand on the back of his neck, and he was conveying something that Jude could understand, by the pleased little noise he made and the gentle curl of his fingers at the hair at the nape of Anton’s neck, so…