Change My Mind

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          The light above the front door showered her in yellow, sparkling in her hair. Her face was shadowed, but he could see her drawing her bottom lip between her teeth. He should be concerned about her revelation. Instead, he wanted to flick a thumb across that lip and free it from the torture she was inflicting on it. Then, he wanted to turn her face to him and kiss away her worry.

          He was officially crazy, wasn’t he?

          “My agency is small. What it lacks in size I swear to God I make up for in heart, but sometimes  …  sometimes that’s not enough. Like when we’re talking a million dollars and the house across the street just got listed by the top agency in the city.” She looked at him, pulling her brows together, pursing her lips, and generally staring at him like he was a great buffoon. “Are you listening to me?”

          “Not really,” he said, offering a smile in his defense.

          She huffed. “Why not?”

          “Because all I can think about is doing this.” He gripped her chin between his thumb and finger and tugged until his mouth met hers.

          Her jaw tensed, and for a few long seconds, her lips didn’t move. But then she exhaled, warming him with her breath and relaxing her mouth enough for him to slip inside. She tasted like she smelled. Black coffee with a hint of peppermint; and damned if his body didn’t crave a double shot of caffeine.

          He slid his hand to her neck, smoothing the curve of her jaw with his thumb as he deepened the kiss, exploring her mouth, stirring an overwhelming need. He wanted her, had to have her. Right here, right now.

          She pressed palms against his chest, scorching his skin. But when she pushed again and her neck muscles clenched, it was like a bucket of cold water, dousing the flames.

          He let her go, even though he didn’t want to.

          Prepared to apologize, Grey shifted his weight to put more space between them, hoping she wasn’t too angry. Nothing about the kiss felt forced, but never again would he think he knew what a woman was feeling.

          She blinked at him, her eyes a liquid blue in the porch light.

          “Why’d you do that?” she asked, tracing her fingers over red and swollen lips.

           There were lots of answers to choose from. He could play it smooth and self-assured with a ‘because I wanted to.’ He could go with romantic, which for him usually meant something uncomfortable and cheesy, like ‘because I can’t get you out of my head.’ Or he could do what he did best, deflect.

          He grinned. “I wanted to help you out.” He hitched a thumb in the direction of the FOR SALE sign across the street.

          “Now that’s the least of your worries.”