the Feds to see if his passport has been active. I’ll track him down one way or another.” He looked at me like he knew what I was thinking. “Sarah will be fine—don’t worry. I’ll make sure of it.”
“How are you going to do that?” I asked him a little skeptically.
“When are they due back?” he asked.
“In a couple of days.”
“I’ll make sure she has someone following her. All the time. Everywhere.”
“You can do that? Without getting into more trouble?” That’s all he needed was more flack from upstairs because of me.
“Don’t worry about it. People owe me favors. Enough said,” he answered when I tried to interrupt.
“Thanks. That means a lot. Okay, then.” I looked at him gratefully. We were so close I could smell his breath. It smelled sweet like strawberries. I was looking down and then looked up to meet his bluer than blue eyes.
He reached out his right hand and touched my mouth. His fingers moved from my lips to my cheek. I don’t know what he meant to do—stroke my cheek and leave, maybe—but suddenly his hand went behind my neck and he was drawing me forward with strong but not forceful pressure, his eyes holding mine the whole time. I could have stopped, but I didn’t, and when our lips touched it was too late.
He tasted like strawberries, too.
Chapter 21
He was a good kisser. And he kept doing it. He had his hands around my waist, firmly but not too firmly. You’d think he’d want to move them up or down or into more interesting territory, but he seemed content to just leave them there and keep kissing me. Slowly and deeply. He took one of his hands and moved it to the small of my back, gently pressing me toward him a little. I could feel every part of his body, and he was muscular in all the right places. I put my hands on his butt. Yep. Muscular there, too. Then he started kissing my face. All over. Sweet, sexy kisses that trailed from my forehead to my cheeks and down to my neck. He was taking his time. It could have been an hour, but I think it was a minute. I even forgot where I was.
Then it kind of dawned on me that I had a boyfriend. He must have sensed what I was thinking because he gently stopped. He didn’t pull away. I was breathless and a little self-conscious. He was looking at me with such an earnest expression, it was disconcerting.
“Aren’t you going to say something?” I asked after a few seconds.
“What is there to say?”
“I don’t know. I mean . . . there’s Paul and everything. This isn’t right.” I was stammering and not proud of it.
“Yeah. It feels right, though, doesn’t it?” It wasn’t really a question. More a statement of fact.
I couldn’t argue with him. It really did. Our lips were almost touching as we spoke, and his breath stilled smelled like strawberries. His beard was a little scratchy, too, but in a good way. I was dying to kiss him again, but instead I said, “I’ve got some thinking and sorting out to do.”
“Yes, you do,” he said simply. I thought he would go in for another kiss. I was hoping, anyway, but he gently took his hands away from around my waist and opened the door.
“By the way, don’t worry about me and my job, okay? I’m a big boy. In fact, you’re not bringing anything into my life I don’t want right now.”
I wished I could say the same to him. I wasn’t sure what I wanted and that was the problem. He started toward his car and then I thought of something. “Are you heading out to see Aaron’s family tomorrow?”
He turned back to me. “Yeah. I’ll be at work and then go over in the late morning. Why, Alex?” he asked me pointedly.
“Just wondering!”
He looked at me skeptically. “You have a good night. And don’t worry about your ex. I’ll handle it. I’ve got it covered.” He turned and got into his car. I wanted to run after him, jump on him and kiss his sweet face, but instead I nodded and closed the door. I felt something sticky on my upper lip and
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