I get out of the truck.
"Peterson called," he says.
"I know."
"Said the audit's closed. No violations found."
"I know."
He doesn't move. Doesn't come down the steps. Just watches me with those dark eyes that see too much. "So why are you here?"
"Because I'm an idiot." I walk toward the porch, stopping at the bottom step. Looking up at him. "Because I spent two days in Portland realizing I don't care about my career half as much as I care about you. Because I drove six hours without stoppingto tell you that walking away was the biggest mistake I've ever made."
His jaw tightens. "You said you needed to salvage your career."
"I did. But it turns out my career's fine." I climb the first step. Then the second. "Peterson confirmed everything. Greg apologized. I could go back to Portland tomorrow and pick up exactly where I left off."
"So again, why are you here?"
"Because I don't want to pick up where I left off." I'm standing in front of him now. Close enough to touch. "I want something different. Something that feels like waking up in your bed. Like coffee before dawn. Like arguing about timber regulations and then?—"
He kisses me.
His hands grip my face, tilting my head back. I grab his shirt, pulling him closer. He tastes like rich whiskey.
"I was gonna drive to Portland," he says against my mouth. "Tomorrow. I had a whole speech planned."
"What kind of speech?"
"The kind where I tell you I don't care about the audit or the regulations or any of it. Where I ask you to give us a real chance. Not three days. Something more."
I pull back to look at him. "How much more?"
"However much you'll give me." His thumb traces my jaw. "A month. A year. Forever, if you're crazy enough."
"I might be that crazy."
He lifts me. My legs wrap around his waist, and he carries me inside without breaking the kiss. The cabin is warm, fire crackling in the hearth. He sets me on the kitchen counter, stepping between my thighs.
"I missed you," I say.
"Two days." He unbuttons my shirt, pushing it off my shoulders. "You were gone two days and I couldn't think straight."
"Same."
His mouth finds my throat. My collarbone. The curve of my breast above my bra. I unhook it, letting it fall, and his groan vibrates against my skin.
"Rowan." He cups my breasts, thumbs circling my nipples. "I thought about this every night. Couldn't sleep without imagining you here."
"I'm here now."
He lifts me again, carrying me to the bedroom. We strip off the rest of our clothes between kisses. He lays me on the bed and covers my body with his, skin against skin.
"I want to take my time," he murmurs. "Want to make up for every minute you were gone."
His mouth moves down my body. My breasts, my stomach, the inside of my thighs. When his tongue finds my clit, I arch off the mattress.
"Ev—"
