“Probably not.” Which wasn’t a total lie. She sniffed, hoping that the tickling at the back of her throat didn’t actually become tears. God, would that be embarrassing. “I’m real glad John doesn’t hate us. That’s... that’s cool to know.”
“He wants to see you. He asked me to arrange a meeting.”
Yearning made her heart clench. John had been a surrogate grandfather to her, showering her with as much love and kindness as he had his own grandchildren. “He knows I’m here?”
“Yes.”
“Did you tell him?”
“No.”
No, he wouldn’t have. She was Nicholas’s dirty little secret.
Don’t get snarky; he’s your dirty secret as well.“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”
“He would be kind to you. I promise.”
She took pride in her steady hands, but they were shaking now. “If he’s not?”
“We would leave.”
“You’d come with me?”
“Of course.”
The immediate agreement shouldn’t have soothed her, though she knew his main goal in chaperoning was to protect his grandfather, not her. “I have to think about it.”
He tilted her chin up and her breath caught. His eyes were soft. Warm. She couldn’t remember the last time he’d looked at her like this, without his guard up and a layer of frost in place. She wanted to savor every second of it as much as it terrified her. “He missed you.”
It was sad how much she wanted him to replace thathewith anI. Pathetic. “If...” She trailed off, the words clogging up inside her throat.
“If what?”
Fuck it all. No ifs. Ifs opened a land of possibility, led to a universe where anything was doable. Where the children of feuding families could unite and overcome the odds and ugly history between them.Ifwas a word for fairy tales, not reality.
If was to be avoided at all costs.
You said you were done for good.
But thatlookhe was giving her, exacerbating her need for ifs. It was short-circuiting her brain.
She did what she always did when she stopped being able to think around this man. She kissed him.
FOR THEsecond time in a week, Nicholas found himself swept into the hurricane force that was Livvy. She took his lips—forcefully, perfectly—leaving him without a need to think. With a jerk, he pulled her off balance and dragged her up and over him so she was straddling his lap.
She tore her lips away. “The door. Let me lock...”
“I already did it when I came in.” He’d flicked off the neon Open sign too.
Someone might call him presumptuous, but he hadn’t anticipated their lip-locking. He simply hadn’t wanted anyone to interrupt them.
She didn’t seem to mind his foresight. She went back to kissing him, her tongue slicking over his.
You shouldn’t be doing this. Don’t do this. Why are you doing this?
Because he really couldn’t help himself, and neither could she. Their conversation had been raw and real and without snark or animosity, something neither of them had engaged in since... well, since well before they’d broken up.
And all because he’d indulged one feeling—the desire not to leave her.
