Page 77 of Sizzling Desire

Morgan studies me for a long moment, then nods. “Damn right we will. I don’t plan on leaving the department with unfinished business.”

I clench my fist at my side. We’ll catch this bastard. I swear it but tonight isn’t about that. Tonight is about celebrating Kate and Hudson. And about Grace and me.

So I push away the thoughts of fire and danger, grab a fresh beer from the bar, and turn back toward the dance floor where Grace is dancing.

I don’t waste time. I find her in the crowd, already halfway through a dance with Hudson, and when the song ends, I step in before anyone else can claim her.

Her brows lift as I take her hand. “You planning on monopolizing all my dances tonight?”

I pull her in, sliding one hand around her waist, resting the other against her lower back. “Absolutely.”

She huffs, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she lets me lead her across the floor, our steps falling into perfect sync.

“I think you just like having an excuse to put your hands on me,” she muses.

I grin. “I don’t need an excuse, Gracie.”

Her breath catches—just a little—but I feel it.

She tilts her head, studying me. “You’ve been acting weird all night.”

I arch a brow. “Define weird.”

She purses her lips. “You keepstaring at me.”

I lean in, my lips brushing her ear. “That’s because you’re the most beautiful thing in this room.”

Her fingers tighten against my shoulder. “You’re laying it on thick.”

I chuckle, tightening my grip on her waist. “Is it working?”

She swallows, and I watch the flutter of her pulse at her throat. She wants to play it cool, pretend like my words don’t affect her, but I know better. I’ve always known.

“You’re impossible,” she mutters.

I grin, dipping my head lower. “And yet, here you are, letting me hold you.”

She exhales sharply. “Because you keep stealing all my dances.”

“That’s not true,” I murmur, guiding her into a slow turn. “I let Hudson have one.”

Grace rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling, and damn, it makes my whole world tilt.

I let my gaze drop, let myself really look at her. She’s glowing—not just from the lights or the warmth of the room, but from something deeper. Something I don’t think she even realizes is there.

She’s letting me in. Slowly. Hesitantly. But she is. And fuck if it doesn’t feel like everything I’ve ever wanted.

The song slows, and I pull her just a little closer, pressing my forehead to hers. “Dance with me all night,” I murmur.

She hesitates. “Kane…”

I pull back just enough to meet her gaze. “No games, Gracie. Just this. Just us.”

She searches my face, looking for something—doubt, hesitation, an escape route, but she won’t find it.

Finally, she exhales and nods, and just like that, we keep moving, swaying to a song neither of us are really listening to.

Because this moment? This moment right here?

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