The look on his face stopped her before she said anything else. Surprise registered first, then worry. His mouth opened. Closed. He rubbed the back of his neck again.
“I don’t make a habit of hurting people, Grace. Regardless of what you think of me.”
Part of her problem was that she didn’t knowwhatshe thought of him. Not clearly. Being around him made her brain and feelings resemble a shaken snow globe.
She shook her head. “I think you have no idea the impact you have on the people around you. Everyone hurts people, Noah. Intentionally or not, there’s no way around it.”
He stepped closer. “I didn’t mean to hurtyou.”
God. It wasthisright here that kept her coming back despite her uncertainty. That look in his eyes, the way her body hummed from the tips of her toes to the roots of her messy updo. No one had ever made her feel this way with just a look.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Something shifted inside of her, pushing common sense tothe side and leaving her with a whole lot of wanting to know how his mouth felt.
He took a deep breath in and when he let it out, the warmth of it fanned over her skin. When had he moved closer? Or had she? “You confuse the hell out of me.”
Her throat tightened. “Then we’re even.” In the back of her mind, she heard her own warning:Do not venture down this rabbit hole.
Noah reached out, brushed the backs of his fingers over her cheek before tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. She felt like she had a hundred heartbeats and he was controlling every one.
“This is a bad idea,” she whispered, right before she stepped into him, ran her hands up his chest and met his waiting mouth. His arms clasped around her, pulling her closer into him. He stood in the same spot, rooted to his porch, but Grace felt like she was spinning, falling, twirling, losing control of her carefully scheduled program.
When his tongue touched hers and one large hand roamed over her body, she didn’t care about anything other than getting closer. This was how people ended up broken.And healed.She couldn’t let a man do either of those things to her. She had no room in her life for an unscripted fling. At least not one with this man, because she knew, just from this mind-blowing kiss, that he could wreck all her carefully laid plans.
She pulled back in small degrees as if it would ease the ache. It didn’t. Their combined breaths echoed in her ears as their foreheads touched. Her eyelids fluttered open, reality seeping back in.
“We shouldn’t have,” she whispered even though she’d never be sorry she had. Just once. She’d needed to know. Now she did. Now she knew the kind of desire that probably set her mom’s path on fire. The kind that made her leave a home with people who loved her to follow a man who hadn’t stuck around past Grace’s birth.
That’s where this kind of passion went. It was uncontrollable. Unpredictable.
“Gracie,” he whispered, his lips finding hers again. She arched into him, not wanting to let go. Because she knew, when she did, she’d have to walk away. Noah Jansen was the kind of man she could lose herself to. Something she’d promised herself she’d never do.
Her feet touched the ground, she pulled her fingers from his hair, fidgeting with them, unsure how to shift her universe back to pre-Noah.
At least Noah looked as poleaxed as she felt. “That’s some serious chemistry.” His voice was rough. She shivered.
“I’ll say,” she whispered.
They both started to speak at the same time. She shook her head. “This is a bad idea. For so many reasons.”
“Right. Obviously,” he said, one side of his mouth lifting halfheartedly.
“We’re neighbors.” Who was she clarifying for? What she should have said was, “We’re worlds apart and completely different and want different things out of life.”
“Complicated,” he muttered.
“Exactly,” she said, more excitedly than she should. “We don’t want this to be complicated.”
“We could be friends.” He stared at her like he wanted to pull her into his arms again.
It was a careful in-between that she wanted to believe she could manage. “We could.”
He held out a hand. She laughed, taking it, wishing she didn’t want to feel the slide of his palm over every inch of her body.
“I’ll grab your book,” he said.
She watched him go, whispering to the flower-scented breeze, “I’ll just stay here and pretend this is going to end well.”
