Page 138 of Falling for the Grumpiest Protector

"Can I kiss you?"

Her answer is barely above a whisper. "Yes."

I kiss her. Slowly at first. Her hand slides from my chest to the back of my neck, and whatever restraint I started with doesn't last long. I pull her closer. She comes willingly. The kiss deepens, warm and certain, nothing like the careful conversation we've just had. Her fingers move into my hair, and a low sound escapes me before I can stop it.

Maddy smiles against my mouth. I kiss the smile away.

When we finally separate, neither of us goes far. Her cheeks are flushed. My hands are still at her waist.

"That was..."

She looks up at me. "What?"

I shake my head. "I had something."

"Apparently I broke him," she says, smiling.

"Temporarily."

"Good to know."

I kiss her again. Shorter this time. Still not enough. When I pull back, she rests her cheek against my chest. I hold her. No explanations. No promises. Just the quiet kitchen, Atlas stretched across the floor, and two cups of coffee going cold on the table. For a few minutes, that's enough.

Eventually, Maddy lifts her head from my chest. Her eyes go to the window. "I should probably get going."

I don't want her to. The realization comes easily enough that I don't bother pretending otherwise. "Can you stay for dinner?"

She looks up at me. "Dinner?"

"Yeah." Something warm moves through her expression.

"I'd like that."

So she stays. We have dinner. We talk about things that have nothing to do with Diana or Diego or the twelve years I can't get back. Maddy tells me something Noah said that morning. I make her laugh. She steals from my plate again, even though whatever she's eating is exactly the same as what I'm eating. At some point, Atlas settles beneath the table between us. And slowly, the day becomes something other than the day Diana came back to Oakridge. It becomes this too: Maddy across from me, her foot brushing mine beneath the table, her laughter in my kitchen, neither of us in any hurry for the evening to end.

It's fully dark by the time I walk her outside. At her car, Maddy turns toward me.

"Thank you for dinner."

"You stole half of mine."

Her smile appears. "I did not."

"You did."

"Maybe yours tasted better."

"It was the same food."

"That's not the point."

I smile. There she is.

I put my hands at her waist and draw her closer. She comes without hesitation. The kiss is softer than the one in the kitchen. Not less intimate. Just different. A goodnight kiss from a woman who's spent the evening with me because she wanted to.

When we separate, her hand stays against my chest. "I had a good time tonight," she says.

"Even after the way it started?"