Page 26 of One Night Flame

She sighed against me, her body leaning in, and that sigh went straight to my chest. She tasted like coffee and something sweeter. Like safety wrapped in a storm.

God, I liked kissing her.

Too much.

When I pulled back, just enough to look into her eyes, she opened them slowly, as if coming out of a dream.

“You okay?” I asked, my voice low.

She nodded, the motion small but sure. “Yeah. Just… not used to this.”

I let out a breath that was half a laugh. “Me neither.”

“Want breakfast?”

I waited for the alarm bells to ring. The fire to light under my ass, urging me out the door. But I felt none of that. I didn’t want to be anywhere but right here, drinking coffee with her. “Breakfast sounds great.”

She turned back to the fridge, humming low under her breath, pulling out eggs, cheese, and a little carton of something that looked like half-and-half. The domesticity of it made something unfamiliar twist low in my gut.

While she moved around the kitchen, I let my gaze drift. The space was tidy—lived in, but not messy. A corkboard hung on one wall, half-covered with sticky notes and a grocery list. And there on the fridge, pinned up with a novelty magnet shaped like a cactus, was a brightly colored thank-you card.Stars, rainbows, a smiling stick figure holding what I guessed was a chalkboard.

Miss Sullivan rocks!it said in bubble letters, complete with glitter glue and a backward “S.”

I smiled. “Miss Sullivan?”

She glanced over her shoulder, like she’d forgotten it was there. “I teach elementary school.”

“Yeah?” I crossed my arms, leaned against the counter. “You seem like you’d be good at it.”

She didn’t answer right away. Just shrugged and gave me a smile—small, polite, a little too practiced.

She wasn’t inviting more questions.

And I got it. She wasn’t cold—just protective. There were layers here. Walls. Not the kind you saw right away, but the kind that didn’t come down easy.

I didn’t push. Just sipped my coffee and let the moment breathe.

Lucy didn’t look at me as she cracked an egg one-handed into the skillet, her other hand fidgeting with the edge of the carton like she needed something to do. Her voice came soft, almost like she wasn’t sure she meant to say it out loud. “It didn’t come up last night. Honestly… it was really nice. Just having legitimate adult conversation.”

That thread of vulnerability tugged at something in my chest.

I set my coffee on the counter and stepped in behind her. Not close enough to press, just enough that she’d feel the shift.

Gently, I reached up and tipped her chin toward me with two fingers, forcing her to look at me. Her eyes flicked to mine—uncertain, expectant.

My voice dropped. “Mmm, right now I’m thinking about all kinds of fun, very adult things when it comes to you.”

Color bloomed in her cheeks, but she didn’t look away. Didn’t flinch. I leaned in and brushed my mouth over the curve of her neck, letting the heat of my breath linger there. Her pulse fluttered under my lips.

My hands slid to her waist, thumbs stroking over the edge of her soft tee as I gently nudged her back against the counter.

She laughed—low, breathless, intoxicating. “What about breakfast?”

I nipped at the place just below her ear and growled, “It can wait.” To underscore the point, I reached out and switched off the burner on the stove.

She didn’t answer with words. She just turned, leaning back against the edge of the counter, lips parted like she wanted to speak but couldn’t remember how.

So I kissed her again. Not soft this time. There was nothing tentative about it. I took her mouth like I’d been thinking about it since the second I’d woken up—and hell, maybe even before that. She met me with equal heat, arms sliding around my neck, fingers threading into my hair.

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