Page 52 of Ultimate Justice

He covered her hand with his. “No,” he whispered, his voice sounding raspy.

When she wet her lips, his gaze locked onto her mouth like a heat-seeking missile, and her breath caught. Did she want him to kiss her?

Yesss.

“Marlie?” Her name rolled off his lips in a low whisper, as if he were asking permission.

Somehow, she must have transmitted her answer, because he pulled her closer, until her breasts touched his chest. In slow increments, he leaned in, stopping barely half an inch from her mouth.

Kiss me, her mind screamed. Kiss me, dammit!

Lust-fueled blood pounded in her ears. Finally, after three years of being alone, she wanted a man. This man. She stood on her tiptoes, slipping her hand to the back of his neck and pulling him down. His breath mixed with hers as he opened his mouth, urging her to do the same. Their tongues stroked, gently at first, then with more urgency, making her blood sizzle. This was good. So, so good.

Waves of heat shot up her back, and her belly quivered with a need she’d thought long gone. When she groaned into his mouth, he pulled her tighter against him, angling her head and deepening the kiss. The quivering in her belly intensified, along with the urge to wrap her legs around his waist and let him take her right there on the pool table.

He pulled away, his chest heaving. A toilet flushed, and the bathroom door opened.

Evan tugged a phone from his back pocket and stared at the screen. Apparently, it hadn’t been her belly vibrating after all. It was only his phone.

She licked her lips, tasting him and feeling the burn from his three o’clock shadow.

“Shit.” He rolled his eyes to the ceiling.

Had the kiss really been that bad? Sure, she was out of practice, but come on.

“We have to go.” His mouth tightened as he looked from her to Noah. “Now!”

Chapter Fifteen

Evan turned out of the development, heading toward his childhood home in Morrison.

“Where are we going?” Noah asked from the back seat.

From the corner of his eye, he caught the questioning look Marlie shot him. He’d practically shoved them into his pickup and still hadn’t told them their destination. “To a birthday party.”

“Really?” Noah leaned over the seat. “Whose birthday is it?”

“Mine.” Much as he wished it weren’t.

“Happy birthday,” Marlie said, although it had come out sounding more like a question.

Guess it was obvious he wasn’t thrilled. In fact, for the first time in twenty-four years, he’d completely forgotten about it. Only the text from his father—Where are you? —while he’d been lip-locked with Marlie had yanked him back to reality.

He was a sorry-ass excuse for a son. For forgetting the most important day in his parents’ life. It was their way of keeping Gracie alive, because they’d never really accepted she was gone. In some ways, neither had he. They’d be surprised when he walked in the door with Marlie and Noah, but he couldn’t have left them unguarded. His parents would just have to deal.

“Will there be cake?” Noah asked.

“Yes, there’ll be cake. Triple layer chocolate fudge cake. My mother makes it, and it’s the best I ever had.” Gracie’s favorite. “And before you say anything, we had turkey sandwiches for lunch, so we’re entitled to cake.”

Humor twitched at Marlie’s lips. He should probably thank his dad for the textus interruptus. Noah had been a second from catching him laying Marlie down on that pool table and—

He ground his teeth at his selfish carelessness. So what if he was starting to feel things for her? She was still wounded by her past. He had no future. Not with her or anyone else.

Finding missing children—especially the one child he doubted he’d ever find—took up his entire life. If only he could stop thinking how good Marlie had felt in his arms, how sweet she’d tasted. Sweeter than the honeysuckle nectar he’d imagined.

Evan turned off Morrison Road onto C-470 and rechecked the road behind them for the tenth time. He couldn’t afford to get distracted again and risk missing a tail.

Marlie touched his arm. “It’s your sister’s birthday, too,” she said softly. “This must be difficult for you.”