Page 13 of The Pumpkin Pie Book Nook

Robyn’s fingers slipped into his hair.

Tyler lost whatever thin thread of restraint he’d been clinging to. He kissed her again, deeper, the kind of kiss that stole breath and ruined common sense. His palm flattened against the small of her back, anchoring her, while his other hand skimmed up her side. Over the curve of her waist, the line of her ribs, until he felt her shiver.

He broke away just enough to drag his mouth along her jaw, then to the side of her neck, breathing her in. Pumpkin spice still clung faintly to her, sweet and warm, tangled with something that was purely Robyn: clean skin and soft perfume and the quiet pull of her.

Tyler forced himself to stop. Robyn’s eyes were wide, lips parted, cheeks flushed. He swallowed. His heart was pounding so hard he could feel it in his throat.

“That was…” he started.

“Incredible,” Robyn whispered, stealing the word straight out of his mouth.

Tyler let out a rough little laugh. His hands were still on her waist.

“I’ve wanted to do that,” he admitted quietly, “for an embarrassing amount of time.”

Robyn’s breath caught. “Me too.”

Tyler’s chest tightened. He leaned in, not to kiss her again, but close enough to keep her there with him. “I want…” He stopped, because what he wanted had a dozen edges. He wanted her. He wanted more. He wanted a world where this didn’t have an ending. But Robyn wasn’t staying in town for long.

Besides, reality had a name, and she called him Dad. Emma, with her pink-painted glittery nails, llama pajamas, and an unending supply of animal facts, deserved the world. She had to come first.

Tyler eased back just a fraction, enough to meet her eyes. “We should be careful,” he said, voice rough. “Not because I don’t want this. I do.”

Robyn swallowed. “I do too.”

“I just have to think things through a bit more. It’s Emma. I don’t want something to get back to her until we know what this is.”

Robyn took his hand in hers and looked down at his pink-painted nails, also courtesy of Emma. Her expression softened, something tender flickering across her face. “I understand. I don’t want to confuse her,” she said. “Or hurt her.”

Tyler nodded. “So… we date,” he said, the word strange and perfect at once. “Quietly, just us. We see what this is.”

“And when we’re sure,” Robyn said, “we tell Emma first. Before anyone else.”

“Agreed.”

Tyler met her eyes and stayed rooted to the spot, proving to himself he could show restraint.

But Robyn kissed him again anyway. Her hands slid up his chest, bunching lightly at his shirt, and Tyler felt the impact of it all the way down to his toes.

He made a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a groan, and then he was kissing her back without thinking. The kiss was deep and reckless and he could have easily gotten carried away.

Tyler forced himself to break away.

“Alright,” he said, holding up one hand in a time-out. “Alright.”

Robyn blinked up at him, lips swollen, eyes bright.

Tyler took a step back—another step.

Jesus.

His pulse thudded in his throat. His hands felt useless at his sides, like they’d forgotten how to do anything except touch her. He dragged in a breath that didn’t help at all.

“We should probably talk about”—he gestured vaguely between them—“boundaries.”

Robyn let out a shaky laugh. “Yeah. Probably.”

“Because I have an eight-year-old who could walk into any room in my house at any time,” he said. “And because if we don’t slow down, I’m not going to be able to think straight long enough to figure out how any of this works.”