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“But you’re not the one who sets the place setting for your dad every day.”
“There have been times when I assumed my mom forgot, so I went ahead and did it for her. But maybe she hadn’t forgotten, maybe it was intentional, and me setting the place anyway makes me part of the problem, not the solution.” She laces her fingers with mine. “When your mom said that she thinks you blame yourself for what happened to Toby, it really hit home. Because in a lot of ways, I blame myself for what happened to my dad. If I’d been paying attention, I would have realized that Smokey wanted me to go upstairs for a reason. Maybe I would have gotten to him in time. But I didn’t. So I’ve trapped myself in this loop of guilt and fear. I haven’t been sure how to move forward, maybe because I feel a lot like I don’t necessarily deserve to.”
“Do you ever feel like maybe we were meant to come into each other’s lives at exactly this time? Like destiny had a plan,” I ask.
“And it involved a hairless cat.” Kitty smiles softly and nods.
“And a trip to the ER.”
We both grin.
“And being tackled to the floor over a water gun.”
I cringe. “I’m never going to live that one down.”
“I didn’t mind being tackled by you.” Her smile turns coy. “Sort of like you didn’t mind being attacked by my lips.”
“I loved being attacked by your lips.” My gaze darts down as her bottom one slides between her teeth.
When I meet her gaze again, I see my own desire reflected back at me. We lean in at the same time, tipping our heads, eyes falling closed as our lips connect. Not an attack this time, but a gentle press. Soft, but sure.
I slide my hand under her hair and curl my fingers around the back of her delicate neck, parting my lips as she does the same. Every movement is a mirror, synchronized. We both hum and shift, and suddenly Kitty’s no longer beside me on the couch, she’s straddling my lap. She runs her hands over my shoulders and up the sides of my neck, fingers dragging along my scalp as she presses her chest to mine.
She’s all soft curves as I trail my fingers down her side and let my hand come to rest on her hip. I want to pull her closer, touch more of her, get lost in the feel of her, forget about today.
Our glasses clink and mine push against my cheek as we deepen the kiss. We both pull back at the same time.
“Stupid glasses,” Kitty mutters and takes hers off, folding in the arms and tossing them aside.
I do the same, and then we’re back to making out.
Eventually her hands start to roam, leaving my hair to trail over my shoulders and down my arms. She gives my biceps a squeeze and makes a noise, somewhere between a hum and a sigh, and goes lower, until she reaches my belt buckle. I’m still wearing a dress shirt and tie, having come directly from a team meeting. She tugs the shirt free from my pants and shimmies back on my lap to give her enough space to start unbuttoning. I don’t know exactly how far this is going to go tonight, but I’m unbelievably grateful that Josh tossed a box of condoms into my glovebox after I told him I’d asked Kitty out on a date. I’m also extra grateful that he took it upon himself to put one in my wallet, even though I assured him we weren’t at the getting naked stage. It looks as though I might be wrong about that.
Kitty works her way through the buttons, but because I’m still wearing a tie, when she gets close to the top, she breaks the kiss and leans back. She makes the same face she did when she attacked me with her lips in the bar. “Here I am trying to take your clothes off without even asking if it’s okay.”
“I would have said something if I wasn’t on board with the shirt removal, but I appreciate you making sure.” I tug on my tie, loosening it enough that I can pull it over my head. “Would you like to finish the job, or would you prefer to go back to making out?”
She taps her bottom lip. “Both, to be quite honest, but I feel like the last two buttons will be a challenge if our lips are locked. So first we lose the shirt, then we go back to making out?”
“I’m absolutely willing to delay gratification for ease of shirt removal.”
We both smile, and she unfastens the last two buttons. I tip my chin up for her when she reaches the collar, and her fingers slide between the fabric and the hollow of my throat. When she’s done, she kisses the bottom of my chin.
