Her smile falters immediately.
“Oh—I’m sorry. If you don’t like it, I won’t?—”
“No.” I step closer without thinking. “That’s not what I meant.”
She frowns, uncertainty flashing in her eyes, and something sharp twists in my chest.
“I meant,” I say carefully, “this is too much for you to be doing for what you’re getting paid.”
And there it is—the line.
The boundary.
The thing that snaps me back into reality even as every instinct in my body screams to pull her close.
Because I want to kiss her.
God, I want to.
She’s standing there with warm light catching in her dark hair, caramel highlights shining through, lips parted like she’s bracing for disappointment.
My chest feels too tight.
My hands itch.
But she’s my employee.
She will be until Kelly comes back.
And maybe after—maybe after I’ll figure out how to keep her here without giving her a reason to run.
Because something in my gut tells me that if she doesn’t have an anchor, she’ll disappear.
And I’ll be damned if I let that happen without trying.
She starts to turn away.
“Willow,” I say.
She spins back immediately, eyes wide, soft, searching.
“Yeah?”
We’ve got maybe thirty seconds before the men come pouring in.
I don’t think.
I don’t second-guess.
I lean forward and press my mouth to hers.
It’s brief. Controlled. A promise more than a demand.
Then I pull back.
“Thank you,” I say quietly. “This looks great.”
And the way she looks at me—shaken, glowing, breath caught—tells me I just crossed a line I’m never going to want to uncross.
