She curls her hand into my shirt, and it takes every ounce of resolve not to bend my head, taste her pretty pink mouth. But she trusts me, and I refuse to violate that, no matter the cost.
“So, which are you, then? The steady farmer or the nomadic wild man?”
I scrutinize the stars, trying not to feel her warm breath on my cheek or the way her words make my heart ache for impossible things. “Until you? I was the man who followed orders without thinking.” I say it like I don’t want to admit it, but everything about it’s the truth.
“So, I’m a bad influence, then?” She questions so softly I have to draw closer to make out the words.
“Not a bad influence. The catalyst I ignored to my detriment. Truth is, you can do everything right and still come out wrong.”
I exhale slowly, unable to avoid her gaze any further, feeling more heat crawl up my neck than a Texas night could ever deliver.
“Opposites again,” she murmurs, eyes dropping to my mouth. “Because I’m the girl who’s done everything wrong, hoping it’s somehow going to turn out right.”
Her words break something loose in my chest because I can tell, despite today’s work, she still believes she’s at fault for her life.
Before I can think, my hand comes up to stroke her feather-soft cheek. “You haven’t done right or wrong, Mia, because you were never given the choice. But we’re going to see what we can do about getting that back for you.”
I don’t move closer, don’t let my eyes hunger for her mouth. Hell, I don’t breathe.
This is the moment I lose plausible deniability. The moment there’s no version of this I can explain away.
Moonlight and stardust dance across her face, and her head comes up slowly. Awkward lips touching mine for one breathless moment.
Her mouth is warm and unsure, like she’s waiting to be told this is allowed.
Her first kiss, I’m pretty damn sure.
I don’t back away, don’t say half the things my mind is screaming … about jobs and professionalism, propriety and what’s right or wrong.
Instead, I let the magic exist—linger—as I return the kiss with a quiet need that could destroy everything I’ve rebuilt.
Chapter
Sixteen
MIA
Afallout’s coming, whether Maverick will name it.
I toss and turn beneath the soft quilts on the cabin bed, thoughts racing too fast to process. I scheduled my written statement to go out via social media six hours after Maverick read it.
The grandfather clock in the living room ticks ominously. The passage of each minute another step closer to freedom … or ruin.
A square-cut jaw and soft beard. Warm mouth that confirmed my need. I touch my fingers to my lips, still remembering the kiss with Maverick.
Not my first.
My only real one.
When I was sixteen, there was a backup dancer who I had a crush on. Jordan Miles. Eighteen years old and as adorable as they come. Behind the stage, we stole a moment together before security caught us and informed Edwin.
My manager raged, like I’d done something awful. Unforgivable.
Jordan thought he acted jealous. Like the old man wanted me for himself. But now I see it for what it was.
Isolation.
Edwin has always needed to keep me away from others. Away from connections.
