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"You know, one of these days, she's just going to kiss you in a fit of newborn emotion," Edward had told him once, several months after Esme had joined them. Carlisle wondered what the boy would say when he found out that it had been Carlisle's lips that had found hers, if only by accident.
The corner of Esme's mouth was soft under his lips, but as tempted as he was to linger, he slowly pulled back.
His throat felt tight as he opened his eyes. He didn't even remember closing them for longer than it took to blink. "Ah..." Swallowing the venom that pooled in his mouth from the bare hint of the taste of Esme's lips, Carlisle considered whether he should apologize, or perhaps explain that he'd been aiming for her cheek -- that if she hadn't startled slightly, begun to turn, he would've met his mark.
Esme's eyes drifted open as well, and somehow the bright, fiery orange gaze staring back at him was soft, despite the severe color.
"Oh," Esme said, and he wouldn't have heard it if not for vampire hearing.
And she didn't pull away. He watched as her lips parted, her tongue darted out to the corner he had kissed. And those bright, bright eyes darkened a shade.
"Esme," Carlisle whispered, reaching up with one hand to curve his fingers over the line of her jaw.
Tilting her chin up, Esme bit her lower lip, scraping her teeth across it, before whispering back, "Carlisle."
This time, when he lowered his head, the kiss was not off-center. His lips brushed across hers, soft but determined. The kiss broke as Esme parted her lips to sigh, then renewed with firmer pressure as she rose up on the balls of her feet, her hands clutching his shirt for balance.
Carlisle wrapped his free arm around her waist, the hand on her jaw sliding into her hair, cupping the back of her head.
He'd never been more grateful for bad aim in his life.