“Not the kind that decides who I speak to or what I wear.”
“What kind?”
“The kind that says I matter.”
His expression softened.
“You matter without anyone else wanting you.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“More often.”
He placed both hands at my waist.
“I will work on the face.”
“Don’t remove it entirely.”
A smile threatened.
“You’re impossible.”
“You hired me.”
“You criticized my wiring before the interview ended.”
“It was bad.”
“It was temporary.”
“It was dangerous.”
He kissed me.
The rest of the office fell away.
His mouth was warm and sure, his beard rough against my skin. My hands moved into his hair. He stepped closer until his hips rested between my knees.
Desire arrived easily.
Not borrowed.
Not evidence.
Mine.
I drew back first.
“Dinner.”
Reid’s breathing had changed.
“Now?”
“Lamb.”
