Page 30 of Worth the Risk
She doesn’t answer, but she doesn’t pull away either.
“I’m going to kiss you again,” I tell her, my mouth inches from hers. “Unless you tell me to stop.”
Instead of stopping me, she reaches up and pulls me down to meet her. Her hands fist in my shirt, and I press closer, backing her against the shelving exactly as I did before. But this time there’s no hesitation, no careful exploration—just the certainty of wanting her and knowing she wants me too.
We break apart only when we need to breathe, both of us breathing hard.
“That was...” Maya starts, then stops, her fingers touching her lips.
“A mistake,” I finish, though the word feels wrong.
“Right. A mistake.” She nods too quickly, smoothing down her shirt. “We shouldn’t have... I mean, we’re supposed to be working together professionally.”
“Exactly. Professional collaboration.” I run a hand through my hair, trying to ignore how she looks with her ponytail mussed, her lips swollen from our kiss. “This doesn’t change anything.”
“Nothing at all,” Maya agrees, but she won’t quite meet my eyes.
We walk back to our table maintaining careful distance. Maya spreads out the financial documents again, and I pretend to review them while stealing glances at her.
“So,” Maya says, her voice overly bright, “the twenty percent historic tax credit should offset most of the additional construction costs.”
“Right. The tax credit.” I force myself to focus on the numbers. “That’s a significant financial impact.”
“Very significant. Completely changes the cost-benefit analysis.” She’s twirling her pen between her fingers. “Nothing else needs to change in our approach.”
“Nothing at all. We’ll proceed exactly as planned.”
We sit in silence, both pretending to study documents while the memory of what just happened hangs between us.
“Maya,” I start, then stop.
“Yes?”
“Nothing. Just... the research is excellent. The board will be impressed.”
“Good. That’s what matters. Highland’s future.”
“Highland’s future,” I repeat, though my voice sounds hollow.
Maya clears her throat. “I should get these final numbers compiled for your presentation.”
“Of course.” I gather my materials, grateful for the excuse to look anywhere but at her. “I should head back to Pierce Enterprises. Prepare for the board meeting.”
“Good luck,” she says, finally meeting my eyes. “I hope they see the value in preservation.”
“They will,” I tell her, though I’m not sure I believe it. “Your research is too compelling to ignore.”
I stand to leave, and Maya walks me to Highland’s front door—the same professional courtesy she’s extended for weeks, except now I’m hyperaware of her proximity, of how she carefully maintains distance between us.
“Declan,” she says as I reach the door.
“Yeah?”
“What happened in there...” She gestures toward the storage room. “It doesn’t have to complicate things. We can keep working together.”
“Professional collaboration,” I agree, though the words feel like a lie.
“Nothing has to change.”
