"Tell me to stop." His mouth is an inch from mine. His breath warm on my lips.
"No."
He kisses me.
Slow. Thorough. His lips are warm and firm, and he kisses with the same unhurried steadiness he does everything else. No rush. No fumbling. Just his mouth learning mine while his hand cradles the back of my head. My fingers curl into the front of his thermal, pulling him closer, and the sound he makes when our bodies press together is quiet and deep and devastating.
The jacket slips off one shoulder. Neither of us fixes it.
He pulls back just far enough to rest his forehead against mine. Both of us breathing hard. His hand still in my hair.
"That wasn't nothing."
"No." My voice is wrecked. "That wasn't nothing."
The sun disappears behind the ridge. The first stars come out over Bear Creek Valley.
We stand there in the cold, foreheads touching, his heartbeat against my palms, and I can already feel the complication building in my chest. This wasn't the plan. Rest, recover, leave. Clean and simple.
Owen McCall is the opposite of simple.
His thumb traces one more line behind my ear. Then he steps back, picks up the jacket from where it's pooled at my elbow, settles it back on my shoulders.
"Goodnight, Carmen."
He walks inside without looking back. The kitchen light clicks on. His silhouette moves past the window.
On my porch, twenty minutes later, there's a mason jar of something warm. When I unscrew the lid, steam curls up into the dark.
Cider. Warm, spiced, smelling like apples and cinnamon.
My phone buzzes.
Owen:
From Sutton Orchards. Wade dropped off a batch this morning.
Figured you could use something warm.
Me:
Thank you.
Owen:
Lock your door tonight. Temperature's dropping.
Leaning against the porch rail, I drink the cider and stare at the kitchen light in the main house until it goes out. My lips are still buzzing. His jacket is still on my shoulders.
One month. No complications.
Too late.
Chapter Four
OWEN
Three days since I kissed Carmen Reyes in the cold behind the supply shed, and I've been a useless man ever since.
