She wanted it. And then—
A car horn blared somewhere in the lot.
Sharp. Jarring. And the moment shattered like a fragile glass dropped to an unforgiving tile floor.
Madelaine jerked back like she’d been burned, breath coming fast, heart racing out of control.
“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I can’t—I can’t do this.” So much was at stake.
Jack dropped his hand immediately, stepping back, giving her space.
Too much space.
“Okay,” he said, though it clearly wasn’t.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t,” he said. “Don’t apologize for something we both wanted.”
That made it worse.
Madelaine wrapped her arms around herself, putting distance where there had been none seconds before.
“This was a mistake,” she said. “Stopping. We should just—go.”
Jack nodded once, jaw tight. “Yeah. Probably.”
He turned, pulling the nozzle from the car and replacing it in the pump’s cradle with more force than necessary.
Madelaine climbed back into the driver’s seat, hands shaking just enough that she had to steady them on the wheel.
When Jack got in, the silence between them was different.
Not empty.
Not awkward.
Charged.
Alive.
And infinitely more dangerous.
Madelaine stared straight ahead as she started the engine.
Sixteen hours together had never felt so short.
Or so long.
The engine hummed back to life, low and steady, like nothing had just happened. Like the world hadn’t tilted sideways in a gas station parking lot in Liberty, Missouri.
Jack leaned his head back against the seat, eyes forward, arms folded tight across his chest. He didn’t trust himself to look at her. Not yet. Maybe not for a while.
Madelaine pulled the sedan back onto the highway, her movements precise. Controlled. Too controlled. She was clearly focused.
They drove in silence for a few miles. Ten. Maybe more. Jack lost count somewhere between trying to slow his heartbeat and trying not to replay the exact moment her lips had almost met his. Almost.
