Her throat moves as she swallows.
She looks up at me with those hazel-green eyes, all soft edges and hidden steel, and she whispers, barely audible…
“Jesse…”
My hand lifts slowly, and I tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear, fingers grazing her cheek.
Abilene shivers.
And the sound she makes, quiet, involuntary, unravels me completely.
I lean in, giving her time, giving her space, watching her face for any sign of hesitation.
She doesn’t move away. She tilts up instead, meeting me halfway.
So I kiss her.
In the dim hallway of a fishing cabin while my kids sleep upstairs and the world outside still threatens to burn, I kiss my quiet, brave, honey-sweet neighbor because I’ve been starving for it.
Abilene makes a soft sound and grips my shirt through the blanket, and the kiss deepens before I can stop it, before I can think, before I can make this complicated.
Her lips are warm.
And I swear right there in that hallway, with her in my arms and her breath tangled with mine, the only thing I know is this:
I don’t want to let her go.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Abilene
Wednesday
Jesse’s still kissing me when I realize I’ve stopped thinking altogether.
It’s a kiss that’s all heat and intent, his mouth moving against mine like he wants this just as badly as I do. His body is close enough that I can feel every solid line of him, the warmth, the pressure, the way he fits far too easily into my space.
Into me.
My back hits the wall, though I don’t remember stepping backward. The wood is cool through my shirt, unlike Jesse’s hands as they slide to my waist, firm and possessive, thumbs pressing in.
Or claiming ground.
I should stop him. I know I should.
But my hands have already curled into his shirt, gripping like I need the leverage, and when he deepens the kiss, my knees go weak.
This is not me.
I don’t do hallway kisses. I don’t press myself into men who smell of whiskey and smoke. I don’t melt when someone looks at me like I’m something they’ve wanted for a long time.
And yet.
Jesse breaks the kiss just long enough to breathe my name against my mouth. “Abilene…”
It’s rough. Strained. He’s barely holding himself together.
The sound of my name in his voice makes my pulse skid. I tilt my head without thinking, giving him my jaw, my neck, and when his lips trail there, I gasp.
