Miller’s mouth fell on mine and the whole world faded away. I’d acclimate myself to one onslaught, and he’d change course and deliver another.
I failed miserably at holding my own, but Miller did not. He kissed the way he did everything—with determination, laser focus, and a reverent attention to detail. It was a holy experience, and I was ready to sing his hymns.
Encircled in his arms, I felt safe and cherished, as if I were the only woman he’d ever want to kiss for all of his days. I knew that wasn’t true, but I didn’t mind being the recipient of this beautiful subterfuge.
While my left hand eased up the hard muscle of Miller’s back, my right took a trip across the contours of his chest. I could feel the soft cotton of his shirt, the sinewy angles beneath, and a heart beating as fast as mine. That rhythmic tick made me smile against his lips.
Miller’s hands cradled my face, and I died a few times over. When his tongue traced the outline of my bottom lip then slipped inside, I full-on crossed over to heaven. Angels sang. Choirs rejoiced. Saints wept.
Until Miller’s phone rang.
With a gasp, I broke away and took a giant step back, stumbling over river rock.
“Easy there.” Miller’s hands steadied me as his gaze assessed the expression on my face. “Are you okay?”
“Yes.” I cleared my throat in a manner that could only be described as aggressive. “Of course, I’m okay. Fine. Lovely. Perfectly stable and not the least bit affected. Though I do occasionally suffer from weak ankles, but that’s neither here nor there.” I waved a shaking hand toward him and that still-ringing phone. “You should get that.”
Grinning, Miller kept his eyes trained on me as he answered. “This is Miller James.”
It certainly was. The boy I’d grown up with. The man who was now my boss and winner of the Best Kiss of Hattie Sutton’s Life Award.
“I’ll be right there.” He dropped his phone back into his pocket. “Church is over early. Poppy ninja-kicked two boys who pulled her hair, they won’t give her more fruit punch, and she’d like to come home.”
I willed my pulse to calm and my voice to steady. “You’ve got to respect a girl who knows what she wants.”
Those dark blue eyes seared into mine as his lips curved. “And what is it you want, Hattie?”
Him. A future I could count on. A man who didn’t leave me. “What just happened—it can’t happen again.”
His smile deepened. “It?”
“The kiss.”
“Because you enjoyed it too much and you’re afraid the thought of doing it again will distract you from all other responsibilities?”
A million reasons sprang to mind, most of them borne of flagging confidence and too many breakups. “Because...you’re my boss. Probably a violation in the employee handbook.”
“We don’t have a handbook, and your use of the title ‘boss’ seems to be fluid to suit your purposes. So tell me, what is your purpose now?”
“To remind you that I essentially work for you. My therapy program is under the umbrella of Hope Farms. It might make other employees uncomfortable.”
“Hmm, yes. I see what you mean.” Miller barely put effort into that frown. “I can talk to Ernie if you think he’ll feel slighted.”
“Miller, I’m here to focus on my career. I’m done with relationships. No more commitments. I’m even done with those apps.” I’d deleted every one of them.
“You can’t lump me into the same group as the other men you’ve dated.”
“Can’t I? When’s the last time you dated a woman and gave it your all?”
“I always give my all.” He took a step forward. “Do we need a replay of that kiss?”
“No.” I held out a hand and put space back between us. “I mean when was the last time you dated someone where the end-goal was permanence?” He hesitated, and that was all the answer I needed. “I’m through being in relationships where I’m the one doing all the work, and I’m not interested in a harmless fling.”
“Who says I’m not interested in commitment?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Maybe it does.”
