Page 66 of Delayed Penalty

I pause, looking at him, andugh!It’s so unfair! Why does he have to look so good right now? Why does his t-shirt have to cling to his muscles and show off his tattoos? Why do his jeans have to sit so low on his hips? Why does his hair have to lie in that perfectly messy way? And why does he have to look so good barefoot?

“Out,” I say, keeping it simple, hoping he drops it.

He doesn’t. He pushes away from the counter, setting his bowl aside. “Out where?”

“What is this? Twenty questions? I’m just going out.”

“Why?”

I glare at him. “You’re not my father. I don’t have to answer that.”

“No,” he says, padding closer. I don’twanthim closer. I want him far away because having him close is too dangerous. “But I am your boss, and this is my house. I have a right to know what’s going on in it.”

I was waiting for him to throw that in my face, and I scoff at his words. “I was under the impression that when Flora is at school, I’m allowed to do whatever Iwant as long as I’m on time to pick her up. So, I’m going out. That’s the end of the discussion,boss.”

His eyes narrow as I toss the moniker back to him. “You don’t even have a car.”

Crap. He’s right. My poor Bug is still in the shop, and I’ve been driving his fancy-schmancy SUV to take Flora anywhere we can’t walk.

Whatever. I can Uber. I don’t want his help.

“I’ll walk.”

“No,” he says. “I’ll take you.”

I jerk my head back, the whiplash of this conversation too much. “No.”

“No?” He lifts his brows. “Why, Quinny, you’re not sneaking off to the toy store now, are you? Buying something new to play with?”

If I wasn’t so blown away by his audacity, I might actually be embarrassed by his question. But I’m not.

“Screw you, Hayes,” I seethe, my teeth clenched tight.

He laughs.Laughs!

All it does is piss me off more. I roll my eyes with a huff and storm toward the front door.

“Wait!” he calls out after me.

I don’t. I keep walking, ignoring the jerk.

“Stop!” he calls, this time closer.

I ignore him again, picking up my pace, trying to put as much distance between us as possible.

“Dammit, Quinn!” I can hear his heavy footsteps on the hardwood floor. He’s right behind me, so close I can feel his body heat. “Would you just fucking wait?”

“Why!” I yell, spinning around and throwing my hands in the air. He skids to a stop, just barely missing crashing into me. “Why should I, huh? So you can tell me what a mistake it was again?”

“No! It’s just…” He sighs. “I…I?—”

“What, Hayes? What? What could you possibly say to me right now?—”

Only I don’t finish my sentence. I can’t.

Adam Hayes is kissing me—again—and it’s just as magical as it was the first and second time. It’s soft and sweet yet hard and demanding. His hands crash into my hair, holding me close like he’ll never get to kiss me again. I’d let him kiss me any time if he promised to kiss me like this.

I clutch his shirt, pulling him even closer because I’m not sure I’ll ever get enough, and he groans as his big body crashes against mine, pushing me against the door with a heavy thud. My head bounces off the wood, but I don’t care. I can’t care. Not when he feels as good as he does.

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