Page 65 of Kaine

But when I got my current job, there was no question I was going to move to Manhattan. Permanently. It was the home I never knew I missed.

Nature is wonderful for hikes and picnics.

But it’s the cityscapes that make my blood run hot and fast.

Henry drives over the bridge and twists and turn along the narrow streets of Brooklyn for some time before we come to stop outside what looks like a small abandoned factory, down near the docks, right on the river. It’s already starting to darken out, and I can’t say it looks all that safe.

“Where are we?” I ask, not sure whether or not to get out of the car. Kaine doesn’t say anything and just gets out of the car.

I look out the window again and it still looks a bit ominous, so I reach down to grab my handbag and hug it to my chest. The car’s rocking, and I realize Kaine’s taking something out of the trunk. I crane my next to see out the rearview window, but the open trunk lid is blocking my view.

Curiosity gets the better of me and I move to open the limo door.

Kaine is suddenly there, though, and takes my hand to help me out.

In my excitement, I take a step, rolling my ankle on a stray pebble, and I fall against his chest.

“Careful,” he whispers. And the vibration of his voice spreads through my entire body. He helps me steady myself and smiles before asking, “You ready?”

And in that moment, I know would follow him anywhere.

“Let’s go, Miss Sinclair!”

He pulls on my hand and leads me up a rattly, rusted fire escape staircase up the side of the red brick factory building.

It’s four or five stories high, and I’m out of breath by the time we reach the top.

Breath is forgotten, though, when I see the view lying out in front of me.

The sun is feeling heavy and tired in the sky, and the horizon is threatening rain. The bright blue sky of the day is blending and swirling into the sweetest pinks and somberest purples I’ve ever seen. A kaleidoscope of pastels, juxtaposed against the dramatic highs and falling dips of the Manhattan skyline.

“Wowwwwwwwww,” I sigh. “It’s just...”

“Absolute perfection,” he finishes for me.

I turn to him and the view is just as magnificent.

He’s pulled his hoodie back and the sunset is reflected in his eyes.

“Welcome to my spot,” he says, then reaches a hand around my waist, pulling me against him, and presses his lips against mine.

Perfection.