“Okay. Now breathe.”
“Am I bad at that too?”
She sighs. “Logan.”
I grin. Her fingers press in slightly, guiding my posture. It’s subtle. But it’s not nothing.
“Roll your shoulders back,” she says softly. “This is Mountain Pose. One of the most basic of all the yoga poses. But there’s a beauty in simplicity, you know?”
“I think I’m picking up what you’re putting down.”
She steps around me now, close. Closer than she needs to be, it seems.
Her hand brushes my arm, and it doesn’t seem like it’s part of Mountain Pose. We both feel it.
I turn my head, and her eyes lift to mine. Then my gaze drops to her mouth.
There’s a half-second where either of us could step back, but neither of us does.
I think I move first, or maybe she does. Hard to tell when my mind’s a blur.
All I know is, suddenly she’s there and I’m kissing her, and yeah—this is definitely not part of anyone’s yoga routine.
Her hands find my shirt, mine slide to her waist, pulling her in. She exhales against me, and this feels like the moment this stops being a joke.
I tilt my head, hold hers, and deepen the kiss for a few moments. She moans lightly, then she pulls back just a little, breathing a little faster now.
“We said separate rooms,” she says.
I look at her, and the way she’s still close. She hasn’t moved away.
“Yeah,” I say quietly. “That’s true. What’s that got to do with making out in the kitchen?”
She laughs. “Not much.”
“I think there’s only one way to finish this…”
She squeals as I lift her up, and we head to the bedroom.
I lay her down gently. “Your brother isn’t going to come in repairing cabinets any time soon, is he?”
“Not supposed to,” she grins as I help her slip her shirt over her head. “But you could always hide in the closet. Seems like you’re good at that.”
I grin as I grip her panties, tugging them off, too. “I’ll be your dirty little secret, sure. What are rebounds for?”
The next day, I get back from my workout just in time to walk into a house that smells dangerously good.
The smell of cookies and something else I can’t quite place wafts into my nostrils. It’s warm and savory.
I drop my bag by the door and follow my nose straight to the kitchen.
Cassie’s at the counter, fully in the zone.
Her apron is on, her hair is pulled back, and she’s fully focused. Okay. She looks incredibly hot in domestic mode.
I didn’t see that coming.
“What smells like heaven in here?” I ask.
