Page 99
Her hands came up, fisting in his shirt, pulling him closer like she’d been waiting for it. Like she’d been right there on the edge with him.
The kiss went deeper fast. Heat riding under his skin, adrenaline twisting into something sharper, rougher.
Too much. Yet not enough.
His grip tightened, then he forced himself to back off.
To stop from crossing a line he wouldn’t be able to come back from.
The next move had to come from her. Not him.
He broke the kiss, his breath ragged, and rested his forehead against hers. “You need to go,” he rasped.
*
Her shift had ended hours ago, but she’d only just gotten off duty — an office parking lot shootout as workers spilled out had seen to that. Two men tangled up over the same woman. Gah. Love made people stupid.
She stepped onto the front porch and regarded the small plastic container on the doormat. Ronan had left it there hours ago; she’d gotten the security alert and pulled up the feed — then hated the warm rush that flooded her when he looked straight into the camera and winked.
Winked.
Surely that was outside the scope of friends.
If not, it should be. Because the way her pulse tripped sure went beyond the bounds of friendship.
But today was Ruth’s birthday, and she’d thrown a little dinner party. Ronan had passed along Ruth’s invitation. As his plus-one.
Felicity had refused.
First, plus-one was against the friendship rules.
And second, spending an evening in Bella Fischer’s company? And the other woman — even if it was her birthday — in Ronan’s life? Hard no.
Felicity nudged the container aside with the toe of her boot, maybe with a little more force than necessary, given the way it skidded across the porch. She unlocked the front door and deactivated the alarm, nearly tripping over the three pugs waiting in formation.
They regarded her with identical expressions of reproach. Millie blinked slowly, like a disappointed grandmother.
“Yes, yes,” Felicity muttered, dropping her keys on the hall table. “I’ve left you alone for absolute hours. But rest assured, your servant has returned and can report that peace once again reigns over the streets of Clearbrook.”
She unhooked her weapons belt and laid it beside the keys. “Ronan came by earlier. After Ruth’s little dinner party.”
Maisie gave a long wheezy sigh. Felicity turned and glared at the gray container on the other side of the screen door. “And he left me … something.”
Maggie gave a sharp bark.
“I know,” Felicity muttered. “It’s rude not to at least bring it inside. But I swear, if it’s a slice of birthday cake, it’s going straight into the garbage.”
With a huff, she stepped out and brought it inside.
But of course it was cake.
Vanilla. Five layers. Buttercream swirled with caramel, sprinkled with toffee crunch.
And a note he’d wedged into the lid.
I saved a piece for you.
Yours,
