Page 35 of Unplanned Target

It takes my brain a second to get with the program. To do the mental math required for understanding the full gravity of what she’s saying.

“You got divorced over a decade ago.” And while it doesn’t sound even remotely amicable, I never imagined it was enough to take her completely out of the dating game.

“I know, but...” Her eyes drop mine, chin dipping. “I’m not exactly the sort of woman most men are dying to get their hands on.”

That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. Thankfully I’m not the dumbest man who’s ever existed, so I know I shouldn’t say that out loud. Miranda would take it wrong, and then I’d have myself in a hole that would take a while to dig out of. For someone who can read me so well, she sure works hard to misunderstand what I say at certain times.

And this would definitely be one of them.

“I don’t think I get what you’re trying to say.” I speak slowly, choosing my words carefully. “Because from where I’m standing, you are exactly the sort of woman any man in his right mind would do whatever it took to get his hands on.”

“I’m not saying men wouldn’t be happy to fuck me.” Her eyes come to my face. “I’m sure they would. Men aren’t exactly the most discerning creatures in the world.” Her chin lifts, that streak of defiance I’m really starting to love making an appearance. “But historically speaking, I haven’t found fucking to be the best use of my time.”

That’s... Interesting information.

As a man who very much enjoys a challenge, that’s also dangerous information.

“Honestly, I haven’t found men in general to be the best use of my time.” Miranda rubs her lips together again, but this time when her eyes drop, they linger on my chest. “Historically speaking.”

“And you think that’s because you’re not the sort of woman most men want?” I’m curious about what reason she’s decided to use as a shield between her and any man who tried to get her attention. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not upset it’s there. Without it, Miranda would no doubt be happily taken. Likely by someone whose lifestyle is more suited to hers than mine is.

“I’m definitely not checking off everyone’s boxes when they think about the perfect woman.” Miranda lifts one hand, ticking off her fingers as she goes. “I’m opinionated. I know what I like and what I don’t. I have a successful career and great investments. I’m also a single mother of a very high-maintenance daughter.”

“Those all actually sound like selling points to me.” I give her a small smile. “You’re going to have to come up with better than that if you’re trying to convince me I shouldn’t like you.”

Miranda blinks up at me, her jaw going a little slack. “I...” She shakes her head. “What?”

“I said you sound like pretty much the perfect woman to me.” And the more I learn about her, the more true that statement becomes. “You’re independent. Can take care of yourself. You’re a great mom. Easy to have a conversation with because you’re not afraid to say what you think.” I shrug. “Plus, you’re beautiful.”

Miranda pinches her lower lip between her teeth. “You think I’m beautiful?”

I chuckle, because that’s not exactly an accurate statement. “I have eyes, so I know you’re beautiful.” I lean down, meeting her gaze. “And I’ve met you, so I also know you’re equally gorgeous on the inside.”

I can only imagine how difficult it’s been for her. First having an asshole ex who essentially abandoned her and Allie. Then being in a career where she has to fight every day to be taken seriously simply because she’s a woman. And I will never allow her to think I see her as anything but fucking amazing.

Miranda searches my face, like she’s checking to see if I’m really telling the truth. If she can believe what I say after a lifetime of knowing untrustable men.

So I wait, letting her decide. Hoping she can see me as clearly as I see her.

“Dammit.” The single word is all the warning I get before her arms loop around my neck, and she’s pressed up on her toes, sealing her lips against mine in a kiss that takes me completely by surprise.

My surprise is short-lived though, because I’ve guiltily imagined this very scenario a few too many times in the short period I’ve known her.

Wrapping my arms around Miranda’s back, I pull her closer, one hand tangling in her hair as the kiss quickly spirals, going from a spur of the moment decision into something much more purposeful in only a few seconds.

Her lips are plush and soft and warm against mine, and when her tongue flicks across the seam of my mouth, I’m lost. Going on nothing but instinct and need, I push against her, walking Miranda the few steps across my room until her back is against the wall, so I can keep her tight to me while also having my hands free.

I run them down her arms and over her sides, gripping Miranda’s hips as I rock against her, mindless to anything but the connection I’ve felt from the first moment I saw her. A connection that only grows with each slide of her tongue against mine. Each grip of her hands in my shirt. Each soft sound that passes from her mouth to mine.

A sharp knock on my door has Miranda stiffening on a gasp. A second later she’s darting away, smoothing her hair back and straightening her shirt. She plasters on a smile before flinging open the door. “Excuse me.” Her voice is oddly pitched. “I was just asking Owen a question.”

I take a deep breath, trying to slow my breathing and calm the raging hard on testing the limits of my fly. Once I’m a little more composed, I turn to find Luca smirking at me. “Whatcha doin’?”

I shoot him a glare. “Contemplating killing you.”

“You should probably get on it then.” His smirk turns into a grin. “Because Butch will be here in an hour, and I’m gonna assume it won’t take him long to figure out you’re trying to fuck his sister.”

THIRTEEN