Page 45 of Hidden Hero

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Jeremy’s truck trailed Cora’s car as they left the pub, the taillights glowing faintly against the darkened Baytown streets. The twenty-minute drive to her house passed in a blur of racing thoughts. His grip on the steering wheel was tight, his mind running wild with possibilities.

What had she meant when she’d hinted that “hanky-panky” might be on the table? Were they simply going back to her place for another drink, for more conversation? Or was she opening a door he hadn’t fully anticipated but was desperate to walk through?

What he did know, without question, was that she fascinated him. She’d taken root in his thoughts, and the idea of peeling back her layers—discovering what made her laugh, what made her cheeks flush, what her soft lips tasted like—was a temptation he couldn’t resist.

He wasn’t naive about his own intentions. He wanted her, but not just in a fleeting, physical way. There was a pull, something far deeper, something that had him willing to tread carefully if it meant she would let him stay in her orbit. If all she wanted was friendship, he would gladly take it. But if there was even a sliver of a chance she wanted more, he was ready—hell, he was eager—to explore it.

Before he knew it, they pulled into her driveway, and he sucked in a deep breath as he parked behind her and watched her alight from her vehicle.Damn, I should have gotten out and opened her door.He bemoaned his slow response but stayed glued in place, his gaze never leaving her.

She paused on the walkway to the front door and turned around to look at him. Her head tilted to the side. Now he realized he looked like an idiot sitting in the car. Throwing open his door, he hastened toward her.

“Having second thoughts?” she asked.

“No, no! I was just sitting here and thinking… well, I was wondering… I wasn’t sure what we…”

Her laughter stopped his sputtering, and even though he was embarrassed and frustrated, he could only laugh with her. “I’m sorry, I’m usually…”

“Smoother? More debonair?”

He dropped his chin and stared at his boots, shaking his head. Then he looked back up at her, and the gentle smile on her face eased his trepidation. “I don’t want to be smooth with you, Cora. I just want to be real.”

Her teeth landed on her bottom lip as her gaze moved from his mouth to his eyes. “That’s the sexiest thing you could have said.” She smiled as she reached for his hand, then walked toward her front door. He followed as they went inside, and before his nerves took off again, Max and Mia rose from their sleeping positions on the sofa, stretched with their butts in the air, and began to meow as they jumped down and circled her legs.

He scooped up Mia, rubbing the soft fur. “Sounds like they have a complaint.”

“When it comes to their stomachs, they always have a complaint,” Cora quipped. She walked into the kitchen, and he followed, with Max scampering along and Mia struggling in his arms to get down. He waited by the counter as Cora put food in their dishes, and the cacophony of cat discontent was ended.

The scent of apples and cinnamon hung in the air. He leaned against the counter, his hands stuffed into his pockets as he watched her move. “It smells good in here,” he said. “I have no idea how you manage to find time to bake a pie.”

Cora glanced up at him, the corners of her lips curving into a smile that made his breath catch.God, that smile.It felt like he’d won the lottery when she aimed it his way, hitting him like a gut punch every time.

“Remember… I thought I was spending my birthday alone. I certainly had no idea I would have dessert somewhere else, with someone else.” She shrugged. “I like the quiet of baking. Just me and ingredients that might not seem like they have anything in common, but they can come together to make something different. Something amazing. Something delicious.”

She walked toward him, stopping a foot away, her gaze never leaving his face. The double-meaning words hung between them, heavier than the lighthearted tone she’d used. Her breathing shifted—he noticed that, too. He noticed everything about her.

She didn’t step back, didn’t brush him off like he thought she might. Instead, she just stood there, her fingers twitching at her sides, her gaze locked on his. “I would really like to kiss you, Jeremy,” she said softly, and for a moment, Jeremy thought he might’ve misheard her. But then her gaze met his, and he saw it there in the depths of her eyes—the same thing that had been burning inside him for weeks.Longing.

The air rushed from his lungs, and he smiled. “I feel the same way but needed to know you were on the same page.”

“If what you feel is more than friendship, and you’d like to have a chance to see where this is going, then we’re not only on the same page, we are definitely on the same shelf, the same book, the same page, and looking at the same quote.”

He barked out laughter at her analogy and stepped closer. Uncharacteristically nervous, he wanted her to guide the pace but didn’t want her to interpret his hesitation as a lack of interest. So lost in his thoughts, he was startled when she placed her hands on his chest, her palm right over his heart.

“For a man who says he’d like to kiss me, you’re doing a lot of thinking.” She dragged her tongue over her bottom lip. “It’s okay if you’re not ready,” she said. “If you’re having to think this much?—”

He reached for her slowly, his hand brushing her waist before moving to her cheek. Her skin was soft and warm beneath his palm, and he let himself lean in when she didn’t pull away.

The first brush of their lips was tentative, almost hesitant. But when she pressed closer, her hands gripping his shoulders as though she needed him as much as he needed her, all his restraint crumbled.

He deepened the kiss, his fingers sliding to her waist, pulling her flush against him. She fit there perfectly, as though she’d been made for him. He’d wanted this for so long it felt like a dream—her lips moving against his and the soft sounds she made as he trailed kisses along her jaw.

There was nothingfriend-onlyabout the kiss. She met his ardor, her tongue thrusting into his mouth as he battled for dominance. The tangling and teasing of their mouths sent electricity straight to his cock, which was definitely in for the long game.

He lifted her, and her legs wrapped around his waist. He veered slightly, and her back hit the refrigerator. Using the sudden stability, he moved closer until her breasts were pressed against his chest. Their heads shifted back and forth, noses bumping but their lips remaining sealed. He kept one hand on her ass, but the other palm was flat on the refrigerator door next to her head. Her body trembled under his touch, and he was humbled she was offering herself to him.

He gave everything he had but still wanted more. Her hands began to roam as her fingers raked over his scalp. Her nails were trimmed short for her job, but he felt the light sting mixed with a soothing movement. Her other hand squeezed his shoulder before gliding down his back, landing on his ass before squeezing again.

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