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“You don’t have to leave,” Saylor told her when her friend bent down to kiss her cheek.
“Sure, I do.” Poppy walked over to Monk and introduced herself. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
Monk looked at her friend briefly, mumbled something Saylor couldn’t hear, and then stalked toward her.
Saylor stood, but before she could say a word, Monk crushed his mouth to hers. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her body flush with his. When she tried to break the kiss, he put his hand on the side of her face and held her there, thrusting his tongue deeper into her mouth.
When she whimpered, he finally let her go and rested his forehead against hers. Her lips felt swollen from the pressure of his kiss.
“What did you hear, Monk?”
“Does it matter?”
Saylor took a step back. “It does. Why did you kiss me like that?”
He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her back into him. “I kissed you like that because I’ve spent every minute since I’ve been gone thinking about it.”
“About kissing me?”
“Everything about you.”
She put her hand on his arm. “Let me go, Monk.”
He released her, and she took another step back from him. His eyes bored into hers, and as much as she wished he’d tell her what he was thinking, another part of her didn’t want to know.
“Where are the girls?”
“At the cabin with my mother.”
When he took a tentative step closer, she wanted to take a step back, but stood her ground. He brushed her hair from the side of her face. “I have to ask you a question.”
“Go ahead.”
“Are you pulling away from me in fear, Saylor? If you tell me you’re afraid of me, I’ll leave now. No more questions, and you’ll never see me again.”
His voice was soft, and he was being so gentle.
“I’m not afraid of you, Monk. I know you’d never hurt me.”
“I’d sooner die.”
“I know that.”
He stroked his finger down the side of her face. “Tell me why, then?”
“I missed you,” she whispered.
“I see,” he answered, bringing her head to rest on his chest. “We’ve both gone against our word.”
Saylor wrapped her arms around his waist and nodded.
“Come. We’ll have dinner,” he said, taking her hand.
“I’d rather just go back to the house.”
“We’ll end up in bed.”
Saylor walked toward the bar, not letting go of his hand. They wound their way through the crowded room and out the front door.
