That is all I need. I close the distance and kiss her, and there’s nothing uncertain about it this time.
She comes into me fast, her hands sliding up my chest, gripping my shirt like she wants me closer than physics allows. My hand finds her hip and pulls her in, then moves up her back, feeling every inch of her respond.
She tastes like coffee and sugar, and the sound she makes against my mouth sends heat rushing through me.
I guide her back toward the table. Papers shift under her hands as she braces herself, and I step between her knees without thinking. The heat between us spikes fast, sharp, and way past what I told myself I’d allow.
I pull back an inch, breathing harder than I want her to notice.
“We should stop,” I say.
“Probably,” she whispers, not moving.
I stay where I am for another second, feeling her breath on my lips, then rest my forehead against hers.
“If we keep going, I’m not going to want to leave this room,” I say.
“Is that a bad thing?” she asks softly.
“For my self-control, yes,” I say. “For my ability to function at work, also yes.”
She laughs quietly, and it does nothing to stop the growing tent in my pants.
“Okay,” she says. “Stopping. For now.”
“For now,” I echo.
I step back slowly, giving us both room to breathe.
“Are you coming by the bakery later?” I ask.
She nods. “To go over the booth layout near the main stage.”
“Right,” I say. “Festival stuff.”
Her mouth curves. “Festival stuff and maybe some staring across the counter.”
“I don’t stare,” I lie.
She smiles fully at that. “Sure.”
There is a lightness in my chest I have not felt in a long time.
It is terrifying but it feels good.
“I should get back,” I say.
“Go,” she says with a small smile. “I’ve got festival chaos to wrangle.”
“I’m not worried,” I tell her. “You’ve got it under control.”
“And you?” she asks. “How’s everything on your end?”
I think of Maisie, of the bakery, and of her. “Managing,” I say. “One day at a time.”
She nods. “See you later, Liam.”
“Yeah,” I say as I head to the door. “Later.”
