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“Ain’t that the problem?” Proud of his quip, he winked. She balled her fist and socked his shoulder.
“All right, all right.” He tipped his head to the side. “One kiss, but then you have to let me go home. Your daddy’s watching.”
She wanted to say she didn’t care if God himself was watching, but she decided not to press her luck. She wasn’t as fragile as everyone thought she was, but she could also admit that she didn’t know what she didn’t know. Hell, for what little she remembered, she could be a Russian spy with a death toll that rivaled that of a seasoned hit man instead of a hometown teacher.
“I’m not a Russian spy, am I?”
“What?” He laughed the word, his breath coasting over her lips. She tipped her chin in anticipation.
“Nothing.” She was going to have to trust the people who loved her for a while. She could live with that.
He closed the gap and touched his lips to hers. They hovered there, mouths moving, arms touching, fingers intertwined. He cradled her head and deepened the kiss, a gentle slide of his tongue on hers, polite but completely mind-altering. The slower he went, the more he savored the kiss, the more she wanted him. Impatient, she speared her tongue into his mouth, yanking the front of his shirt in an effort to get closer to him. Their bodies bumped, her belly encountering hardness behind the fly of his jeans. Yes, yes, yes. This was what she wanted. To feel what he felt for her. To have him again and feel a modicum of normalcy in a completely abnormal situation.
He sucked in a sharp inhale. She lost his lips, and the rest of him, her breasts brushing his chest as he pulled away. His expression was playful but scolding when he took a literal step away from her and shoved his hands deep in his pockets. With a shake of his head, he said, “You always knew how to make me forget my place, Ms. Collins.”
“I guess we have that in common, Mr. Grandin.”
She spun on her heel to head back to the house, along the way trying to decide if she was more disappointed or flattered by his words.
