Page 19 of Kissing the Boss
The kettle whistles, forcing me to release her. As she pours water over the grounds, the rich scent of coffee mingles with something floral from her hair, creating a new smell that I already know I'll associate with mornings from now on.
"What do we do now?" she asks, passing me a steaming mug.
I take a sip, buying time. "About work, you mean?"
She nods, leaning against the counter. The morning light makes her skin glow, but I can see the hint of uncertainty in her eyes. "I still need this job, Jonathan. I came here for a fresh start."
"Nothing has to change at the garage," I say. "You're good at what you do. Better than anyone I've had before."
"But everything else has changed." She looks down at her coffee. "People will talk."
"People in Whitetail Falls always talk." I set my mug down, needing my hands free to touch her. "But they're also surprisingly accepting when it's real."
Her eyes lift to mine. "Is it? Real?"
The question hangs between us, more vulnerable than anything that happened in my bed last night. I move closer, taking the mug from her hands and setting it aside. My palms cup her face, tilting it up to mine.
"I've never been more certain of anything," I tell her, letting her see the truth in my eyes. "I know it's fast. I know it doesn't make sense. But from the moment you broke down in Acorn Circle, something in me recognized something in you."
Her hands come up to grasp my wrists, holding me there. "I felt it too."
"I tried to fight it. Tried to be professional." I press my forehead to hers. "But I'm done fighting, Cassandra. I want you in my garage, in my bed, in my life. However that looks."
"Even if it complicates things?" Her voice is small, uncertain.
"Some things are worth complicating."
She smiles then, slow and bright like sunrise. "Says the man who color-coded his entire filing system to avoid complications."
"That was you," I remind her, smiling against her lips.
"And now you're stuck with me." She loops her arms around my neck. "And my excessive organizing."
"Guess I'll manage somehow."
I kiss her then, slow and deep, tasting coffee and promise. Her body melts against mine, warm and soft. When we finally break apart, her eyes are bright with emotion.
"I need to tell you something," she whispers.
"Anything."
"I think I'm falling in love with you." The words rush out like she's afraid to hold them back. "I know it's crazy and fast and probably terrifying, but—"
I cut her off with another kiss, pouring everything I feel into it. When I pull back, her eyes are wide, lips parted.
"Not terrifying," I tell her softly. "Inevitable."
We abandon breakfast after that, losing ourselves in each other on my worn couch, the morning sun painting our skin gold as we relearn each other in daylight. It's different than last night—slower, more deliberate, with none of the desperate edge of first discovery.
After, she lies sprawled across my chest, tracing lazy circles on my skin, her curls tickling my chin.
"We should probably go down soon," she murmurs against my chest. "Before they send a search party."
"Let them wonder." I run my hand down the curve of her spine. "I'm not sharing you yet."
She props herself up to look at me, hair falling around us like a curtain. "You know, for a grumpy mechanic, you're surprisingly possessive."
"Only about things that matter." I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "And you matter, Cassandra Green. More than I thought possible this quickly."
