“Hey,” she answered.
Clara flipped the little sign on the door toCLOSEDand turned the dead bolt with a soft click.
The studio fell quieter in that way spaces do when they’re suddenly meant only for two. The overhead lights were off, just the front lamp and the fairy lights along the back wall glowed, bouncing off the mirror Brody had delivered.
She moved through the room on bare feet, doing one last pointless lap—straightening a hanger on the garment rack, nudging a frame a millimeter to the left, fingertips brushing over the new hardwood where that crime-scene green carpet used to be. Her hair was down now, swinging against her shoulders, her dress doing things to my brain I still wasn’t fully equipped to handle.
I leaned back against the custom counter I’d built, hands braced on the edge, and watched her with that slow, hungry warmth I still couldn’t quite believe I was allowed to feel.
“You did it,” I said, because there wasn’t a better sentence in the world for this moment. “You did all of this.”
She looked over, eyes catching the light, and the smile that spread across her face hit me dead center.
“We did it,” she corrected, crossing the floor. She stepped between my knees like she’d been built for that space, arms looping around my neck. “You built half this place, after all.”
I caught her wrist, turned it, and pressed my mouth to the inside, right over the flutter of her pulse. “You’re the one whodecided what to grow from it,” I murmured. “I just brought the tools.”
Her breath hitched.
Then she was closer, all soft curves and quiet strength, nudging me back against the counter. My hands slid up from her waist, palms finding warm skin. She shivered, a little full-body tremor that had nothing to do with the faint draft under the door.
“Hi,” she whispered.
“Hi,” I answered, and kissed her.
Our kiss was slow at first—no rush, no edge. Just the easy slide of her mouth on mine, the familiar tease of her tongue, the way her fingers tightened in the hair at the back of my neck like she never intended to let go again.
I broke away just enough to breathe, forehead resting against hers, trying to get my heartbeat to level.
For so long, my life had felt stuck in one long winter. Numb. Gray. Every part of me frozen in place, convinced that wanting anything more was just an invitation for the next storm to rip it away.
As it turned out, I hadn’t been broken at all.
Just buried.
Clara brushed her nose against mine, smiling like she could feel the thought. “You’re looking at me like you’re havingdirtythoughts,” she teased.
“Oh, I am,” I said. My hands slid lower, fingers tightening at the curve of her ass, pulling her flush against me so she could feel exactly what kind of mood I was in. “Starting with you on this counter.”
Her laugh spilled out, warm and breathless. “Bold design choice, Vaughn. How mad do you think my landlord would be if we christened the studio before my first official client?”
I kissed the corner of her mouth. “Depends,” I said. “What did you have in mind?”
She arched a brow, eyes going dark. “I was thinking we start with that counter you’re so proud of and see if it survives quality control.”
The sound that came out of me was half groan, half prayer.
I gripped her hips, dragging her even closer, my voice dropping to the place that always made her breath catch. “I was thinking the same thing,” I said. “Only this time, Duchess, I’m going to teachyoua thing or two.”
Heat flashed across her face, down her throat. She reached past me, fingers finding the switch on the standing lamp, and flicked it off. The studio dipped into a softer darkness, lit only by the streetlamp outside and the fairy lights stretching across the ceiling, casting us in a warm, secret glow.
“In that case,” she murmured, hands already bunching in the hem of my shirt, “you better hope your craftsmanship is as good as you think, because I fully intend to test every inch of this counter.”
“Yeah?” My voice scraped out, desperate for her.
“Mm-hmm.” She tugged my shirt up, knuckles skimming my skin, and smiled that wicked little smile that had fueled far too many late-night fantasies when we’d still been dancing around each other. “Show me all the ways you can use me up.”
I caught her mouth with mine before she could say anything else that might actually kill me.
