"So, that was awkward."
Carol's mind raced. She probably wouldn't have chosen awkward as the word that she would use to describe what had just happened.
She might have used mind-blowing. She might have used overwhelming. She might have used perfect, or even long overdue. She wouldn't have used awkward.
The only awkward thing about it, really, was that it had been something they'd been practically pushed into doing. They wanted to be accepted by this group. They didn't want to draw attention to themselves. They didn't want to have too many eyes plastered on them. They'd said they were married—it had slipped out as an unplanned part of their ruse. Really, they'd agreed, more than anything, with the person who had welcomed them and suggested they were married.
The kiss?
The kiss hadn't been planned. It had been a spur of the moment thing. It was a romantic moment, surrounded by other couples, and there had been kissing. It seemed only natural that they would kiss. There was, after all, mistletoe.
"I don't know," Carol said.
"You don't think it was—awkward?" Daryl asked. Something in his voice changed. Something in his expression, too, changed.
Carol shrugged her shoulders. Her face burned warm.
"I think it was—nice," she admitted. "Maybe—just a little awkward. But nothing that…"
"Nothing that…" Daryl pressed after a moment.
Carol's heart thundered in her chest. She'd been trying to get Daryl to kiss her for years. She'd been wondering what it would take. All it took, in the end, was a ball of fake mistletoe and being surrounded by other happy couples kissing.
She wondered just how daring she could be tonight.
"Nothing that—couldn't get better with practice," she ventured.
Her stomach untangled itself when Daryl's face ran red and he smiled.
"I guess—we could practice," he said. "If you want, I mean."
Carol smiled. She nodded her head.
"I'd like that," she assured him. "Very much."