Pretty couple.Be careful what you wish for.
The words sat stark and ugly in the glow of her screen.Attached was a still image of the barn taken from outside through the wide doors.
Jami straightened, the sound in his chest more instinct than thought.“That’s here.Right now.”
Carlene swallowed.“I just got it.How...”
He was already moving.He strode to the doors, scanning the tree line beyond the gravel drive.The sun had dipped low, throwing long shadows across the water.Nothing moved except the wind.
Carlene joined him, tension tightening her shoulders.“It could be someone passing by.”
“It's doubtful.We're up here pretty far; it would be impossible to get that shot from the road, or a boat below,” he said, voice low.“Or someone who knows where to aim a camera.”
They stood there for a long minute, the only sound the water rolling against the rocks below.When he finally turned back, she was watching him, not the rock star, not the PR problem, but the man trying to keep the world from touching her.
“You shouldn’t be here alone,” he said quietly.“At least not until we figure out who sent that.”
“I’m fine,” she started.
“You’re not,” he cut in, gentler.“None of this is.”
She looked down at her phone, then up at him.“You can’t fix every headline, Jami.”
“I’m not trying to fix the headline,” he said, stepping closer.“I’m trying to keep you safe.”
Her breath caught.“You can’t save everyone.”
“Maybe I only want to save you.”
The space between them vanished in a heartbeat.She tilted her chin, ready to argue, but his hand found the side of her face first, thumb brushing the line of her jaw.The air shifted; coffee, salt, her perfume, something too human to ignore.
He leaned in, slow enough to stop if she wanted him to.She didn’t.
The kiss started carefully, then deepened when she reached for his shirt, holding on like the ground might give way.The world outside could wait, the cameras, the headlines, the threats.For one stolen moment, it was only them and the music still vibrating in the air.
When they finally broke apart, she stayed close, forehead against his.“This complicates everything.”
He smiled, rough and honest.“It already turned complicated.”
Outside, a gull cried over the water.Inside, the amp hummed a low, unfinished note, like a warning or a promise.
He kissed her again, slow and steady.Her heart tripped in her chest as if she'd run a marathon.His lips were soft and warm against hers.His tongue teased her lips, and she opened to let him in.His tongue slid along hers, slowly.He tasted like coffee, and he smelled like pine and wood and the oil he used on his guitar.All of it was pure Jami.The butterflies flitted in her tummy as his strong fingers slid into her hair at the nape and held her close to him.His other hand slipped behind her back and pulled her body into his.The solid wall of his chest sent a sizzle down her body.She hadn't felt this alive in...years.She'd grown accustomed to his voice, his quiet strength, and the sadness behind his eyes when he stared off into the distance.
Gripping his shirt tightly in her hands, she held on as if he'd push her over the edge of the bluff.She'd take him with her, and part of her felt like she already had.
He pulled back slightly, his eyes searched hers for a long time.No words were needed; they simply took in every line around his eyes, every color she saw reflected in his irises.His lashes were thick and long and enviable.His lips were slightly pink from their kissing, and she would be lying if she said she didn't love that.Knowing she was the one who made his lips turn pink and puffy made her stomach flutter and her knees wobble slightly.
ChapterThirteen
Carlene woke to the steady thrum of rain against the window and the faint ache behind her eyes from too little sleep and too many thoughts she couldn’t quiet.
The kiss replayed in her head before she even opened her eyes.The warmth of his mouth, the way his hand had slid into her hair, the sound he made when he finally let go of the control he carried like armor.She pressed a hand to her chest and tried to slow her breathing.
It shouldn’t have happened.Not with her client, not in the middle of a campaign where everything they did was being watched and dissected.But when she’d looked at him last night, standing there in the low light, something inside her had cracked open.
She swung her legs off the bed and stood, pushing the thought away.She’d built a career on keeping emotion out of the job, and she wasn’t about to ruin that now.
Her laptop sat on the kitchen table where she’d left it.Coffee, she decided.Work.Logic.That was how she handled storms.
