“It’s okay. I know you were only trying to help.” She crossed her arm and lifted her strap with her index finger. The white silk covered her breast again, and she backed away from him. He furrowed his brows as if he didn’t like their newfound distance.
“All right… I better get to bed,” she said, glancing at her feet.
The heat in his eyes when he’d said, “Fuck” while sweetly stroking her arm with his thumb blazed their initial spark into a class B fire.
Her cousin Kieran, a firefighter, had said once that class B fires with flammable liquids might seem harmless, as they only account for 2% of all fires. But they’re even more deadly with a massive 20% of all fatalities.
She thought back to her cousin’s words when she realized that her rare connection with Keenan might seem harmless at first glance, but that it’s most dangerous after a closer inspection.
Something about this situation made her feel powerful. This handsome man wanted her. He may not like or approved his attraction, but the proof of it was right in front of her. His tented gray sweatpants called out to her like a cool glass of fresh lemonade in the hot dessert.
Her hand connected with his chest and he closed his eyes when she went on her tiptoes. Her lips hovered over his, but when his nostrils flared, Ryleigh halted her movements, realizing his breathing turned heavy from panicking instead of arousal.
Was it painful for him to have her kiss him? Because she wasn’t his ex? Or was he fighting to keep his restraint because he didn’t want to be attracted to his son’s nanny?
She hated to be the reason for his discomfort. She didn’t like to see this loving father—this sweet, yet grumpy man off balance because of her.
He probably was too damn kind to stop her when she obviously had been about to kiss his full lips.
With a ninja move, she hurried from the kitchen without saying goodnight. After clicking her bedside light on, she turned and closed her bedroom door. She leaned with her back against the door and her hand splayed over her heaving chest.
What was she thinking in throwing herself at her boss? She didn’t want to know what he must have thought of her. She’d misread him completely. He most likely would fire her first thing in the morning. Who wants a floozy to watch their child? Ryleigh sniffed and buried her face in her knees.
The top of the stairs creaked, and she held her breath. Soft footsteps padded over the hallway floor, and when they stopped right behind her door, her heart skipped a few beats.
A soft thud sounded on the other side of her bedroom door. Like he’d placed his hand there or something harder, like his forehead.
“I’m sorry, beautiful,” his voice filtered softly through the door.
He was sorry? And he thought she was beautiful? Only after the click of his door closing, she could breathe again.