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“I’m okay.” Carrie kissed the tips of her fingers, tears springing to her eyes.

“That’s my cue to go,” Kit said, backing out of the room.

I hopped up. “I’ll wait outside. You guys should have some time alone.”

I rushed into the hallway and ran straight into him, where he’d paused.

“Shit, sorry!”

He laughed as he caught my arms, steadying me. “No, that’s my fault. I wasn’t expecting anyone to come out. I was just trying to decide if I could justify going back in there or if it would look unprofessional.”

My eyebrows flew up. “Go back for what?”

His smile tilted charmingly. “To talk to you.”

“Oh.” My heart skipped a beat. “Well, sadly, I don’t have the Hummer with me. Hollywood would probably frown on me hooking up in his car. The baby car seat might cramp our style a bit too.”

He laughed and shook his head, finally dropping his hands. “No, I wasn’t thinking that. That would definitely be unprofessional.”

I smirked. “And here I thought you liked being bad with me that night in Omaha.”

“Oh, I did.” He bit his bottom lip, gaze skating over me. “Walk with me? I’ve got to check in with the front desk about my next appointment.”

Wasn’t like I had anything better to do than loiter outside the lounge door. “Sure.”

I followed him into the front lobby and waited while he leaned in over the desk and asked the receptionist a few questions. I kept my distance, not wanting to intrude.

He returned to me. “Okay, where were we?”

“The lobby at your job, apparently,” I said. “You live in Riverton too. What are the odds?”

He chuckled. “I know, right? Had I known then…”

“You’d have shot me down before I bought you a drink.”

“No,” he said, looking startled. “I’d have given you my number.”

“Well, it’s never too late,” I teased.

There was something about Kit—something warm and sweet—that dulled the ache inside me. He’d been almost shy when we met at that club until I got him hot and horny, and then he’d shown a passion that had been rare and exciting. So often when I hooked up with men, it was just bodies looking for release. With Kit, there’d been something more.

Real chemistry, maybe. I hardly knew him, but I wanted to know him, and that was more than I could say for most guys.

But if Kit knew me, really knew what I’d done, he might not be so eager to talk to me again.

He held out his hand. “Give me your phone. I’ll put in my number for you.”

I considered refusing. Even considered blurting out the truth about me. That’d cool his interest fast.

I took out my phone and called up the contacts, then handed it over. He tapped in his digits.

“There you go. Now, you have to call me, so I don’t go all stalker on you.”

I grinned as I took the phone back. “Do threats usually work for you?”

“Oh, yeah. They’re a staple of my pickup technique.”

“Good thing I picked you up last time, then.”