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He rolled his eyes. “You remind me of Ivy.” He tapped his lips. “And Wren. And also Poppy. And they’re six, which is the prime age for poking out tongues.”

His gaze locked on mine as he swirled his tea, and my stomach heaved as the blobs of melting chocolate created a whirlpool.

“That chocolate reminds me of poo⁠—”

He flung himself across the table, and I winced as he hit the wooden surface. He slapped a hand over my mouth in a “Don’t say it” motion.

Time froze or maybe I did. We were skin to skin, his face was in mine and his expression was fierce as if I’d insulted that sweet nana of his. Seconds or maybe minutes passed before I put my hand over his. River was still stomach down on the table. I was breathing in his scent and he was panting. His panicked eyes looked around the room before I removed his hand from my mouth.

I flipped it over, studying his palm, and someone, not me, but someone like me, who could have been me, who had my hands, kissed the life line.

Oh shit, what had I just done? There was no way I could put this down to a mistake, as in I mistook his hand for mine, and anyway, why would I be kissing my hand. River didn’t speak, but we both stared at his palm as if it held the secrets of the universe.

“You’re going to live a long life.” That was my best attempt to make this not weird. But who was I kidding?

“Palm readers don’t usually kiss their clients’ hands.”

We both looked up at the same time and bumped heads. He didn’t rub his brow or make a sound. But he also hadn’t rushed out, and I still had his hand. He was trying to keep this light while I was floundering, and I gripped him harder.

“There are things about me you don’t know.” I blurted out the most significant piece of information I’d said to anyone who wasn’t family.

He tilted his head to the side. “Ummm, I’m scared of geese, but I can’t tell you why, and I once stuck a small doll’s head up my nose and had to go to the ER. That’s the sum of my secrets.”

Oh, River. His childhood antics paled compared to me having a dragon. “If you knew what was good for you, you’d have never accepted this job.”

“Good thing I never take the easy option and whatever’s good for me.” He slithered forward across the table and curled his legs up under him. He made an obviously fake yawn. “That’s so boring.”

“You know I’m always telling the girls not to stand or sit on the table.”

River trailed a finger around my mouth. “But I’m doing neither of those things. I’m lying.” One corner of his mouth curled up, and that was harder to resist than whatever he was going to say next.

“Kiss me,” he said.

SEVEN

RIVER

“Kiss me.”

Sinclair hesitated before placing a light kiss on my mouth. It was so gentle I barely registered it, and he didn’t push for more than that. I was braced for urgency with nothing to hold onto because I was sprawled over the kitchen table.

He gave me softness, but I was hungry for more than a peck on the mouth, and I teased his lips with my tongue. His chest heaved as his breathing sped up, and with a hand at the back of my neck, he pulled me close. His heated skin sizzled against mine, and I inhaled his unique cologne that made me dizzy.

“Mmmm.” That was the only sound I could muster.

Draping my arms around him, I pulled back and experienced a moment of doubt. Sinclair was my boss, but he put an arm around me, flipping me onto my back. Gods, we were going to have sex on the kitchen table. He hovered over me, not saying anything but with his breath washing over my face. I searched his eyes, wondering if this was the end and he was going to leave or whether he was going to rip my clothes off.

I wanted the latter, but he was my boss and we were in his home with his children asleep upstairs. I didn’t normally care whether a casual hookup went ahead, and I was puzzled about why this one mattered.

He pushed a lock of hair off my damp brow, and I took his hand, just as he’d held mine, and kissed the palm. He poked his tongue out again, and my skin prickled.

“I want you close.” My voice sounded far away as if it didn’t belong to me.

His breathing was heavy, ragged even, as our eyes locked. But weeks of suppressed emotion had me lifting my head and slamming my mouth on his. He moaned into my mouth, and the vibrations rippled through me.

But he pulled back with his eyes narrowed and his lips slightly swollen and kissed around my mouth before trailing kisses over my jaw to the base of my throat. I fisted his hair and groaned as he nipped the delicate skin. I tugged his hair harder because I wanted him to feel something and maybe shred my clothes right here on the table.

Sinclair whispered against my skin that we should go upstairs, and in a split second, he hauled me off the table. With his hand in mine and a finger on his lips, reminding me to be quiet, we stumbled up the stairs to his room, and he closed the door.