Page 73 of Capturing You
He held her eye contact, waiting for her to push him away. But she didn’t.
She held very, very still.
He leaned forward, feeling her breath on his face, needing to feel her lips against his.
The lights flashed on.
The sudden brightness shocked him out of the crazy trance.
He jerked back.
Brooklynn’s eyes widened in surprise. Or…hurt?
What was he thinking, almost kissing her? Had he lost his mind?
Apparently, because he wanted to curse the stupid electricity that’d ruined the moment.
He expected her to be angry, to lash out at him for taking advantage. But her expression softened. She squeezed his forearm again. “It’s okay.”
What was okay?
Was it okay?
He didn’t know, but he needed out of that room, away from this woman, before he did something he couldn’t take back.
CHAPTERFIFTEEN
Brooklynn replayed that moment a hundred times.
It wouldn’t have been wise to let Ford kiss her. She knew that. She was attracted to the man—who wouldn’t be?—butfeelinga physical attraction andacting onone were two very different things. Being holed up in this house with him and depending on him for her physical safety were not good precursors to a healthy relationship.
And anyway, who was talking about a relationship? It would’ve been a kiss. A good kiss, she was certain, but a very bad-idea kiss.
Probably.
Though she would have enjoyed it.
She ran a brand-new cordless vacuum she’d found in the closet with the cleaning supplies over the old hardwood floor of a guest room on the second floor, across from the office where she’d found the notebook the night before. It was mindless work, which was not the distraction she needed from the almost-kiss.
She’d slept fitfully, giving up right after dawn. Rather than wait on Ford for breakfast, she’d prepared boxed blueberry muffins and added a crumble topping. For someone who was only here temporarily, Ford had a well-stocked pantry. She’d scarfed one muffin while it was still warm and left the rest in a bowl on the counter before retreating to the second floor.
Not that she was trying to avoid him.
She just needed to get her head on straight.
For all the awkwardness after the power came on the night before, Ford had remembered her need for a phone charger and brought her one before fleeing, tossing a quick “G’night” over his shoulder as he headed for the stairs.
This morning, she’d checked her messages, responded when she needed to, before she resumed her cleaning. She’d scoured four rooms in this wing already and was on the fifth when her phone rang.
She checked the caller ID and then swiped to answer. “Hello?”
“Brooklynn? Are you all right?”
It was Lois, though she didn’t sound like herself. “I’m fine. What’s wrong?”
“You’re safe?”
“What happened?”
