Page 197

Like I'm the person he came here to find.

My heart gives one hard, painful thump.

Oh no.

“Hey,” I say.

“Hey yourself.”

He walks directly to me. Then Mitchell Knight bends his head and kisses me.

Right there. In front of everyone.

It's not a sexual kiss.

That's what gets me.

We've shared plenty of those.

This isn't about heat.

It's barely more than a brush of his mouth against mine.

A hello.

An I'm here.

An I saw you.

An of course I'm going to kiss you because you're the woman I kiss when I walk into a room.

And somehow that tiny kiss scares me more than anything we've done in his bedroom. Because it feels intimate. Normal. Real.

His hand settles against my waist.

Warm. Possessive. Familiar.

And for one terrifying second, it's like Mitchell can see straight through me.

Past the reporter.

Past the sarcasm.

Past every defense I've spent thirty-five years constructing.

Straight into that secret little place where all the stupid hopes live.

Someone to come home to. Someone who looks for me first. Someone who chooses me in a crowded room. Someone who becomes my person.

I've never really had that.

Not like this.

And suddenly I'm surrounded by people who do.

Worse? For one beautiful, terrifying second, Mitchell makes me feel like maybe I could too.

With him.