Page 85 of His Reckoning

The problem isn’t that I kissed her. It’s how much I wanted to—and how much I still do.

That kiss wasn’t a mistake. It wasn’t impulsive. It was deliberate.

I knew exactly what I was doing, which means the real problem is something else entirely.

It felt good … too good.

I pull into the garage beneath the office building and grab my briefcase.

Work is supposed to fix this. Work fixes everything. It gives my brain something else to focus on besides the fact that Kayla tasted exactly as good as I’d imagined she would.

Jordan is already at his desk when I walk in.

He looks up from his computer. “You’re early.”

“I have work.”

“You always have work.”

“Then you’re used to it.”

He studies me for half a second longer than usual, then hands me a tablet.

“Three meetings moved to the afternoon. The London call is still at ten.”

I take the tablet. “Fine.”

“And Dean asked if you reviewed the acquisition documents.”

“I did.”

“Last night?”

“Yes.”

Jordan pauses. He raises an eyebrow. “You look distracted.”

“You’re imagining things.”

“You snapped at me yesterday.”

“I didn’t.”

“You definitely did.”

I walk past him toward my office. “Schedule the next meeting.”

Jordan mutters, “Someone needs coffee,” as I walk away.

The morning drags on with emails, calls, meetings, and numbers. All of it should be enough to occupy my attention.

It usually is.

The second my attention slips, my thoughts go straight back to her.

The kitchen.

Her hands gripping my shirt, the surprised look in her eyes, and the way she kissed me back before either of us had time to think about it.