Page 82 of Tempted Hearts
And he was my favorite so far.
“I think you’d probably ruin me.”
“Smart girl.”
It was Sunday, and I had the whole day off. A part of me wanted to ask if he wanted to get breakfast, but another part of me knew last night could very easily have been a one-off. And somehow, that thought didn’t scare me the way it should have.
Sometimes you just want something badly enough that logic never even gets a vote.
“What’s on tap for today in Juliette’s world?” he asked.
“Well, I was going to try to get some writing in. Maybe the gym. I have an article due Wednesday, so that can wait.” I shrugged. “You?”
“I was planning to head back this afternoon. I’ve got a standing meeting about my fall schedule tomorrow at noon.”
I felt it before I saw it. The way my shoulders dropped. The split second where my body reacted before my brain could put up defenses.
I straightened, forced my expression into something neutral. Like it didn’t matter.
It did.
That should have been my cue to make an excuse. To let this end cleanly. To pretend last night hadn’t shifted something I wasn’t ready to deal with.
But I’d already crossed that line.
“If I move the meeting,” he said slowly, like he was thinking out loud rather than making an offer, “I don’t have anything pressing until Thursday. I could stay in town a few more days.”
I didn’t answer. I just watched him.
“Should I move the meeting?”
The question hung between us, heavier than it had any right to be. It wasn’t really about logistics. Or even about spending the day together.
It was about whether I could accept him staying without asking for more.
Shit.
Shit, shit, shit.
I hadn’t lied when I told him the sex was incredible. It had only gotten better as the night went on. But great sex didn’t insulate me from heartbreak. I was painfully aware of that.
“You should move the meeting,” I said quietly.
He didn’t hesitate. He reached for his phone, muscles shifting as he leaned forward, and for a very unhelpful moment, all I could think about was how unfair it was that he looked like that.
I probably should have gotten dressed before I accidentally climbed back into bed with him.
Somehow, we made it all the way to the front porch without touching again. When he finally pulled me into him, I didn’t resist.
He tipped my chin up and kissed me softly, nothing rushed, nothing demanding. It felt different from the night before. Tender in a way that made my chest ache.
Best not to overthink that.
We broke apart at the same time and looked out at the lake.
“I could get used to that view every morning,” he said.
“Same.” I smiled. “There’s something about writing near the water. It does things to my brain.”
