Page 21 of Almost Home
The pleased smile she gave me was reward in itself. Plus, I looked forward to showing her the office. Grenier had spared no expense, and though I’d be paying him back for years to come, it made the right impression. The one we needed to land the high-profile clients to our local service rather than losing out to whoever did their security elsewhere.
That night as I drove home, the conversations from the evening with family filtering through my mind, I felt more settled and at peace than I had in longer than I could remember. I didn’t know whether to revel in it or fear it, but for the moment, I let the sense of belonging and good feelings play out against the dimming night sky and dark canyon walls of the commute.
And despite my best efforts, passing the place where we used to meet brought Sarah to mind, just like every other time I’d ever driven this canyon. But where sadness and regret and disappointment and a crushing sense of what might’ve been had once lived now sat a simmering sense of possibility.
Misplaced though it might’ve been, all I could think about was seeing her again tomorrow morning—of having her near me, within reach.
CHAPTERTEN
Sarah
Movement behind me made my heart slam into my chest as I whipped around, gasping. “Holy crap, you scared me!”
Wilder stood just inside the break room door, relaxed as could be. If I didn’t know better, I’d say a small smile hovered on his lips under that bushy beard.
“Apologies.”
“No sneaking up on the poor, helpless temp, okay?”
Hand pressed to my heart, I worked to calm my galloping pulse. But honestly, having him join me in this room first thing in the morning didn’t help the situation. Any proximity to the man made everything in me sit up and take notice in a pleasure-pain kind of way that I couldn’t seem to stop.
“Never again. Scout’s honor.” He held up his hand in promise.
“I happen to know you weren’t a Boy Scout,” I said, turning back to the coffee maker and filling a mug.
I’d decided to just go for it and make myself at home, and part of that was drinking from a mug I’d brought from home and would keep here instead of a metal thermos I would have packed in and out. I’d thoroughly enjoyed the process of opening the building. Not sure why, actually, but I didn’t want to ruin the mild buzz I’d gotten from unlocking the doors and flipping on lights and brewing the morning coffee, so I ran with it.
“I suppose you do.”
I turned back to him, coffee mug in one hand, and took a sip. His eyes dropped to the mug as I drank, and something lit in his eyes, though they remained seemingly placid. Like the moment before liftoff, his gaze barreled into me, until he pushed off the frame as though compelled by some force akin to magnetic attraction. He covered the ten feet between us and just as I pulled the mug from my lips, he cupped his hand around mine where I held the handle.
This was the first contact we’d had in… in… I couldn’t think. I sucked in a breath that sounded mercifully quiet in this near-soundless room. Could he hear my heart thundering in my chest? Could he feel how the rough skin of his palms nearly set me on fire?
I couldn’t breathe with his skin on mine so suddenly—my lungs had forgotten.Is it inhale, then exhale? Or just inhale and inhale and inhale…I looked up to see him glance up from my lips and meet my gaze. My stomach swooped low and I swallowed.
“Reading is sexy.”
I nodded. “Uh… huh.”
He squinted and his mouth tipped up. “I was reading your mug.”
I shut my eyes and scrunched my nose, making a silly face and neglecting to hide my embarrassment. Why try when my body had flushed from head to toe with heat at his words and then at the realization that he was only reading the mug I held and not just tossing out that fact like a compliment to me?
“Right. Yes. Well.Fact.”
Sadly, he let go, and fortunately, I still had some power over my limbs and managed not to let the coffee slosh over the edge or let the mug simply drop to the floor and shatter on the polished wood below once the contact was gone.
“Do you still read?”
I raised a brow. “I find reading pretty essential.”
He shook his head, and I could swear he was smiling again. Dang, he needed to shave that beard so I could see. Or at least trim it.
Actually, no. Scratch that. Because if I saw Wilder Saint smile full-out, a Haley’s Comet kind of occasion, I’d probably do something ridiculous like burst into tears or kiss him.
“I mean, do you read nonstop? Is it still impossible to talk to you when you’ve got your head in a good book?”
My heart twisted at the warmth and familiarity of his words and at knowing he remembered. Of course he did, but still. I cleared my throat, willing away the sudden creep of emotion.
