His hand came out instinctively to steady her.
And then, suddenly, she was pressed against him, caught against the firm warmth of his chest, his hand at her waist, his other braced lightly against the counter to keep them both from falling into a worse tangle.
Her breath caught.
Their eyes met.
“June…”
His voice was rougher than it had been a second before, and the look in his eyes made her pulse leap hard enough to hurt.
She knew she should move.
She didn't.
“I feel like a teenager again,” Holt said quietly. “Trying to figure out how to ask you on a date and then wondering all day if I’ve made a complete fool of myself.”
A helpless little smile touched her mouth before she could stop it.
“I know,” she murmured. “I’ve felt the same way all day.”
Something flickered in his face then. Relief. Want. Something older and deeper than both.
“Good,” he said. “Because then I won’t feel bad about doing this.”
Before she could ask what he meant, he kissed her.
And for a few seconds, the world simply went away.
There was no case, no town, no years of hurt, separation, or unfinished conversations. There was only the heat of his mouth, the way one hand tightened slightly at her waist, the utterly dizzying familiarity of him, and the terrible, wonderful realization that nothing in her had forgotten how this felt.
Her heart pounded.
Her knees went weak.
The rest of the room dissolved until there was nothing but the two of them and the rush of memory and present longing colliding at once.
She had no idea how long they stood there like that before the sound finally reached her.
Their phones.
The alarms were shrill enough to cut straight through the haze.
They broke apart slowly at first, still dazed, until the sound registered fully.
Then both of them froze.
June yanked her phone from the counter.
A weather warning flashed across the screen.
Her blood ran cold as she read it.
The coastal system had intensified rapidly offshore. Severe storm warning. Dangerous winds. Heavy surge. Immediate threat to exposed coastal areas and low-lying islands.
“Oh no.” She looked up, eyes wide, and was already finding Willa’s number.
Holt had done the same and turned to walk out of the kitchen with his phone pressed to his ear.
