Page 58 of Miss Matched

“It’s gorgeous,” I say.

Zac gives me a gentle smile, and I wonder if my approval means anything to a man like him.

“It’s simple,” he says, almost as if he can read my thoughts. “Nothing like my dad’s house. I bought it for him when I made my first million. It was beat to shit, so we had to renovate every square inch. Lots of knocking out walls and knocking back beers.”

“Are you telling me Seattle’s richest bachelor actually knows how to get his hands dirty?” I nudge him.

“I own a real estate development empire, getting dirty is my business, baby,” Zac teases and plants a quick kiss on my temple.

“Oh, I’m well aware.” I smile, and he reaches around me to grab my ass with a wicked grin on his face.

“I’ll admit I’m not as hands-on as I used to be. But for my dad—I’d do anything. So when he says, Son, let’s rebuild this fucking house, there’s no choice but to rebuild the fucking house.”

That makes me laugh, and I hope Zac doesn’t notice me losing a piece of my heart to him.

He holds me close. Touching me, tracing me, like he’s committing my body to memory. He stops on my hand and twists the gold band that wraps my middle finger.

“You always wear this,” he says, looking it over. It’s thin, with a small infinity knot carved into it.

“It was my mom’s.” I swallow hard. “It’s all I have left of her—well, all I have left of them.” I twist the band nervously.

Goose bumps prickle up on my arm, and Zac must notice, because he follows them with his hand, tracing over a nipple and up to my throat, along my neck. He tangles his hand in the base of my hair, pulling me closer, stopping inches from my lips to read my expression.

I see worry—or is it pain? Something dark crosses his face before he pulls me in and plants his lips on mine. His tongue makes my whole body shiver, and it’s enough for me to stop wondering if that look changed something between us.

I’m not sure if the kiss is to cull my hurt or his own, but without a word, Zac’s lips take a piece of it away.

Our bodies roll until I’m on top of him. His arms skim my sides as he holds me flush against his hard chest. Our kiss turns frantic, swallowing the last of our conversation. Whispers of things left unsaid plague the air around us.

I want you for more than just tonight.

I need you more than this.

I’m dangerously far from lines that are already too blurry. And I don’t know if I’ll ever find my way back.

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