She reached up and pressed her hand to his. “If you haven’t booked a flight to Spitsbergen, then I’d say today has promise.”
“Spitsbergen?”
“Norway.”
He tilted her head up, and she let him.
She didn’t break eye contact, but her breathing sped up. “It’s a ... small island.”
He leaned toward her.
“Very cold.” Her voice was barely a whisper.
“Bronwyn?”
“Hmm?”
“Can I kiss you?”
Her eyes flashed. “You’d better.”
He rested his free hand on the arm of the chair and narrowed the distance between them without breaking eye contact. He pauseda breath away from her mouth, giving her one more second to change her mind.
Her arms reached around his neck and pulled him to her. She started the kiss, and for a few seconds, his brain short-circuited in a heady mix of shock, awe, delight, and bone-deep certainty that he would never kiss anyone else.
She was it for him. She always had been. She always would be.
He adjusted his stance and pulled her to her feet and then he was kissing her with all the emotions and dreams and longings he’d kept buried deep inside.
When they broke apart, he held her in his arms and rested his forehead against hers, gratified that her breathing was as erratic as his.
“Mo?”
“Hmm?”
She didn’t say anything, and he didn’t press her. She’d talk when she was ready. And he’d listen. For now, he was content to listen to her heartbeat. Sometimes nonverbal communication did the job just fine.
At some point, she pulled in a deep breath, leaned back, and took his face in her hands. “Good morning.”
He knew he had a goofy grin plastered on his face and he didn’t care. “I think we should make it a point to say good morning like this every day.”
She ducked her head and bit her bottom lip. “I’d like that.”
“Then it’s a deal.”
She stepped back, but instead of pulling away from him, she slid her hand down his arm, then laced her fingers through his. “Come inside and have some decent coffee. Then let’s talk about what we need to do today.”
Bronwyn wasn’t sure what had gotten into her. She’d spent most of the morning staring at Mo’s house, wondering what would happen when he woke up and she had to face him. Instead of talking to him like a rational adult, she’d flirted shamelessly, kissed him, and clung to him after the kiss had made her too dizzy to stand on her own.
She didn’t remember his kisses being quite so ... potent. She grabbed a dish towel off Meredith’s counter and fanned herself.
She needed to stop thinking about kissing Mo and focus on surviving the day. In her spare time, she needed to do all she could to keep everyone alive and not dwell on the fact that if Mo couldn’t figure out who was behind the blackmail, she might not have a job anymore.
She poured a cup of coffee and added cream, then handed it to Mo. He took it with a quizzical look on his face.
“What?”
He took a sip. “This is perfect.”
