Till I Kissed You Read Free

the institutional smell of the courthouse. Another black mark against him. Why couldn’t he smell like BO or garlic instead of a woodsy, pine-scented cologne that cast her back a decade to the bed of his truck?
    â€œI don’t know, but it is,” she said weakly. The truth was too embarrassing to speak aloud.
    They stood too close. Neither of them pulled back or spoke. The moment veered from confrontational to uncomfortable to downright awkward, yet the way his hazel eyes warmed and narrowed on hers hypnotized her as if seeking all her secrets.
    She didn’t like him, not one bit. That fact didn’t stop the call of her body whenever he was within ten feet. Okay, maybe closer to twenty-five feet. The physical attraction was an inconvenient echo from their past lives together.
    Her brain clamped down on her body, and she spun around and stalked out of the hallway toward the front doors. The crowd had thinned out, leaving only a few diehard citizens. One called her over. Even though she desperately wanted to be home, she smiled and changed directions.
    From the corner of her eye, she saw Sawyer push the front double doors open. Her shoulders relaxed. She preferred arguing about the property tax increases to dealing with Sawyer. He left her feeling off-balance and unsure of herself. Unusual and unwelcome conditions.
    It was another twenty minutes before she extricated herself from the next man who wanted to discuss zoning regulations of all things. The parking lot was almost deserted. Almost. A shiny black pickup sat two rows over from her red VW Bug. Sawyer was propped against a column in what she was now referring to as his Sawyer-stance. He must have practiced in the mirror and decided it emphasized all his good parts. Not that she’d noticed any bad parts, dangit.
    â€œThe custodian is fixing to lock up, so you won’t be able to sneak back inside.” She stomped down the stone stairs, and he fell into step beside her.
    â€œJust getting some air before I head out. It’s a pretty night, isn’t it?” He sounded friendly, jovial even.
    She shot him a suspicious side-eye. What was he up to? Deciding to play along, she looked up. Even with the town’s light pollution, the sky was unusually full of stars. A cool front had moved in and cut the humidity, making the night pleasant.
    When they reached the parking lot and he should have headed left toward his truck, he kept pace with her. She pivoted toward him with her hands on her hips. “Okay, what’s going on?”
    â€œIt’s dark. There’s no one around. I’m making sure you get to your car is all.”
    A warmth unfurled in her stomach as a good portion of her vitriol faded. “I’m a grown-up. I can handle myself.”
    â€œI would do this for any woman, so don’t go thinking you’re special or something. ’Cause you’re not.”
    His words snuck past her defenses. She swallowed against a sudden well of tears. What was wrong with her? The question had too many meanings. Why was she crying over some petty insult? Why had he cheated on her so many years ago? Why did he still have the power to wound her so brutally? Why couldn’t she let the past go and move on?
    She sucked her top lip between her teeth and bit down hard. She spun away and strode to her car. Her heel stuck in a crack, and she stumbled. Cursing under her breath, she slipped her foot out, bent over, and yanked the heel from the crack, continuing with one shoe on and one off with as much dignity as she could muster. He was probably doubled over, hee-hawing at her less than graceful retreat. Sliding behind the wheel, she finally looked at him.
    He was standing where she’d left him, not so much as smiling, as if someone had yelled “Freeze!” She drove off, making the turn onto the main street with a squeal of her tires. That glass of wine waiting at home had just turned into a