Page 30 of Code Name: Harbor

I’m without any control whatsoever.

But he pulls back, just enough to look at my face. His mouth is half an inch from mine, I feel his warm breath, watch as his eyes search mine.

His mouth curves into a half smile. “Okay.”

The word comes out somewhat rough.

“Okay,” I murmur, a repeat in tone and depth.

A long beat fraught with tension.

“That was—”

“I know.”

“I wasn’t expecting—”

“I know.”

I take half a step back and the cold slaps the cheek where his hand had been. I touch the spot briefly with my own fingers, considering the loss.

Finn looks at me with an expression I can’t fully read except that he’s unmistakably pleased. As if he’s gotten exactly the response from me he’d hoped to get.

And he’s not entirely hiding it.

“I should get you home,” he says.

“Yes.”

Finn locks up his boat and guides me back to his car, holding my hand the entire time. The drive home is quiet. He plays a classic rock station and quietly hums under his breath while I watch the city lights move past. I don’t look at him, most certainly not the hand so casually resting on top of the wheel. If I look at that hand, I’ll think too much about how it felt on the back of my neck and my composure is too fragile to risk fracture.

At my house, Finn walks me to my front door. I unlock the keypad and push the door open before turning to face him. I know if he kisses me like he did on the boat, there’s a very real threat I’ll invite him in.

To my surprise, he’s moved back a step and has his hands tucked into the pockets of his coat.

“I had a really nice time,” I say.

His eyes crinkle. “So did I.”

“I’m not going to ask you in tonight.”

“That’s good, because I wouldn’t come in if you asked.”

I grin at him. “I know. I mean… I just know that about you.”

Finn smiles, and it’s so disarmingly handsome and boyish, I want to grab him to me.

“Good night, Josie,” he says, taking a step back.

“Good night, Finn.”

I move through the open door as he waits, watching to make sure I get in safe. Only after I’ve locked the door from the inside do I see him returning to his Range Rover.

A few seconds later, I hear his car start up, then pull away.

I stand in my dark entryway with my back against the door for a long time. My coat is still on, the taste of wine and his mouth still on my lips. My body’s humming and somewhere underneath it all, the analyst part of me is making notes.

The most important factor I zero in on isn’t the lovely dinner, the open conversation, the fascinating man.