Page 8

“That’s right.” If they run out of assignments I can do from home, I’ll use my vacation days, but I’m not letting Willow out of my sight until I know the threat is over.

A few days later, Willow and I decide to crash on the couch and watch a movie after dinner. Something mindless, with enough action to keep our focus. As we settle in, Chewy sprawls out at one end of the sofa, falling into deep doggy sleep within seconds. The little guy is a master snoozer.

I sit back, pulling Willow close, feeling the gentle pressure of her body as she leans into me. My cock turns to stone as her curvy body melts against my side. Her delicate floral scent wraps around me, waking up every nerve ending in my body.

As the opening credits roll, I breathe her in, feeling the stress of the day melt away. The world beyond my walls can be too raw sometimes, with too much at stake and too many variables I can’t control. But here, now, with her, I have no doubt. I know what I want, and it’s this. She’s an intoxicating blend of sass and confidence that pulled me in the moment we met.

I glance down at her, her eyes focused on the screen, the corners of her mouth twitching in anticipation of the next intense scene. Fuck. She turns me inside out without even trying, makes me rethink every damn decision I’ve made prior to her walking into my life. And I can’t help but want more.

For a while, we’re absorbed by the movie, and as a particularly thrilling sequence grips the plot, I notice the way her body tenses slightly against mine, her fingers clutching at the fabric of my shirt in reflex. I take advantage of the moment, running my fingers lazily through her hair, feeling the silky strands flutter between the pads of my fingers.

This magnetic pull I feel toward her isn’t just infatuation. She owns my goddamn heart. My little spitfire has been driving me crazy since the day she fell into my lap. Her presence is as grounding as it is destabilizing. One look, one touch from her, and I’m out for the count.

The movie climaxes with a barrage of screams and chaos, but my focus is on the spitfire who owns my heart and soul. The room crackles with tension as my control fractures.

“Willow,” I murmur, my voice low, roughened by my desire for her. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to do.”

She meets my gaze, her curiosity sparking in the dim light, a smile tugging at her lips. “What’s that, Lennox?”

“I’ve been wanting to kiss you since the day we met,” I admit. With her so close, I’m ready to finally close the gap between us, hoping like hell she’s feeling the same magnetic pull.

“What’s stopping you?”