His gaze drops to my mouth. Then back up. “You’re welcome.”
The air shifts again.
The noise of the helicopters, the distant voices—everything fades just enough that it feels like we’re standing in our own little pocket of space.
He steps in, closing the space between us, his hand coming up—not quite touching my face, but close enough that I feel it.
Heat blooms under my skin. My heart thunders.
This is happening.
This is?—
“Doug!”
The shout slices through our magical haze.
We both freeze. He turns immediately, instinct taking over, and I follow his gaze.
A man jogs toward us from across the pad, urgency in every step.
“Doug, we need you,” the man says when he gets close enough, slightly out of breath. “There’s been an accident—we’re the closest?—”
Douglas’s entire posture shifts. Gone is the man who was about to kiss me.
This is someone else entirely.
But he’s equally appealing.
I exhale slowly.
“Go,” I say before he can say anything.
His eyes snap back to mine, they soften slightly. “Kathryn I?—”
“Go,” I repeat, softer this time. “Seriously. I’m not the kind of girl who is going to stop you from… whatever is happening.”
Something flickers in his expression. “I’ll come back,” he says.
There it is again. That promise.
And I want to believe him. Even if I shouldn’t.
“You’d better,” I tell him.
He hesitates for half a second.
Then I reach up, grab his shirt, and pull him down just enough to press a quick, firm kiss to his mouth.
It’s not soft. Not tentative.
But it’s quick. I pull back before he can deepen it.
“For luck,” I say, a little breathless. “Now, go save the day.”
Then he’s gone.
Running toward another helicopter, toward whatever emergency just pulled him away.
