No crossing boundaries that don’t need crossing.
Because there is one thing I know with absolute certainty—I will have this woman.
Not now.
Not like this.
Not while she’s under my roof and my authority.
But someday.
And when that day comes, I’ll take her slow. Thoroughly.
I’ll discover the sounds she makes when she’s excited. I’ll learn how she tastes firsthand.
I can’t fucking wait. But I will.
Kelly claps her hands together.
“Alright. I’m off. Bye, you two!”
She’s already halfway out the door, mind on her appointment, on Evan—my nephew, little hellion that he is.
I wave her off, then turn back to Willow.
She shifts under my stare, and I immediately regret letting it linger.
I don’t want her uncomfortable. I don’t want her guarded.
Not with me. So, I drop my gaze.
“Alright,” I say, voice rough but steady. “Everyone’s busy or at lunch. Let’s go see where you’ll be staying.”
“Okay,” she says, reaching for a jacket draped over a chair.
I frown the second I see it.
“You’ll need something warmer than that.”
“Oh—um, sure.” She hesitates, then nods.
It’s a strange way to agree, but I dip my chin and hold the door open for her, stepping aside as she passes.
And then—Christ.
Her scent hits me.
Sweet. Warm. Tempting. Nostalgic.
Like summertime, sunshine, and bubblegum.
My mouth actually waters.
I grit my teeth, inhale cold air, remind myself—again—of the line I will not cross.
Not yet.
Not until she’s free of obligation.
