Page 98 of His Reckoning

Chapter Eighteen

Sawyer

By the time I get to the office, I already know two things.

First, Kayla is furious with me. Second, she wrote nonstop while I was in the room.

Neither of those facts should’ve amused me as much as they did.

I drop my briefcase onto my desk and loosen my tie slightly.

Jordan looks up from his computer at his desk just outside of my office. “You look pleased about something.”

“You’re imagining things.”

“Am I?”

“I assure you, you are.”

Jordan leans back in his chair. “Did something good happen this morning?”

“No.”

“Something worth celebrating?”

I sit down and open my laptop. “That depends on your standards.”

“Something that explains why you look like you just won a negotiation.”

“I didn’t.”

Jordan studies me for another moment, then shrugs and goes back to typing.

“Whatever it is,” he says, “I hope it improves your mood.”

“I’m perfectly functional.”

“You were rude to three people yesterday.”

“That sounds exaggerated.”

“It’s not.”

I start answering emails, but my brain isn’t fully cooperating. Because every time my attention drifts, it goes right back to the same moment.

Kayla standing in the kitchen. Pinned between me and the glass. Arguing with me like she wasn’t at all aware of the way her pulse jumped when I leaned closer.

The kiss itself—the way she kissed me back before either of us had time to think about it.

I rub a hand over the back of my neck. This is exactly why I avoid unnecessary complications. Except, apparently, I brought one home.

The irritating part isn’t that I kissed her. The irritating part is how quickly she recovered afterward.

Kayla gets angry instead of nervous, which somehow makes her harder to ignore.

By mid-afternoon, I’ve completed exactly half the work I planned to finish.

Dean walks into my office without knocking.