Conflict of Interest (23 page)

“So you almost managed to change the subject.” He scooted away, breaking any contact between them. “Is that your way of telling me no without actually having to say it?”

She shook her head and closed the distance between them, wrapping her arms around his neck. “It’s not. My answer is yes. I’d love to not have to go home at night. And I…” she hesitated on the words, and then realized the normal terror that went with them wasn’t there. “I love you too.”

* * * *

“Is this seat taken?” A familiar voice cut through the din of the coffee shop.

Scott looked up from his game, not that he’d been able to focus anyway, frowning when he couldn’t read Kenzie’s expression. He rose enough to brush his lips over hers, heartbeat increasing when she let the kiss linger. He still hadn’t gotten used to that, and with any luck he never would.

He locked his gaze on hers as she took the chair next to him, still not able to read her. She’d stepped away to take a call from work. Before she’d left, he managed to gather they’d finally made a decision about how to handle the public embarrassment he’d stuck her—and them—with.

The corners of her mouth turned down, and she looked away. She ignored the tea he’d ordered for her, stealing his coffee instead and taking a long drink before handing it back. She wouldn’t meet his gaze.

His stomach sank, mind already racing through lists of contacts who might be able to hook her up. Not that she needed him to call in any favors; she had an amazing résumé, but he had to do something to help. “How bad is it?”

Her somber expression cracked, and she giggled.

Uncertain relief nudged some of his dread aside.

She kissed him deeply, hand resting on his knee for balance, tongue dancing around his. When she broke away, her entire face was smiling, pink tingeing her cheeks.

“You’re a pest.” He couldn’t force any irritation into his voice. “Tell me.”

She took another sip of his coffee. “This is good. Hazelnut? I would have pegged you as too manly for anything but straight, black, harsh-as-tar coffee.”

“Yes. I’ve got a soft, gooey center that no one knows about except anyone who’s ever talked to me for longer than a few minutes, which means I like my coffee sweet.” He rested his palms on either side of her face, holding it in place. “You’re killing me, you know that, right?”

She laughed. “I’m sorry. It went fantastically. I’m still on probation, but Greta is putting me back in the queue for new clients. They’re being lenient, enforcing the spirit of the law instead of the letter, because one, I’ve never done it before, and two, now that I have someone amazing around to keep me in line, I’m not going to do it again.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You never told me it was my job to keep you in line. I don’t even do that for myself.”

“I’ve noticed.” She shook her head with amusement, tracing a finger over the bare skin peeking through his ripped jeans.

He growled at the light touch, teeth grazing her neck. “Maybe we should take off. Go somewhere less public.”

She tilted her head to the side, bottom lip caught between her teeth as she studied him. “The back of the love van?”

The playful expression taunted and relieved him. “I was thinking home, but I guess that depends on if I can keep my hands to myself for that long.”

She stood and tugged his arm. “Sounds like a challenge.”

His pulse screamed. She didn’t strike him as the kind of woman to back away from a challenge.

The End

Publisher’s Note

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Allyson Lindt has been telling stories since before she could put the words on paper. She was lucky enough to marry her muse and soul mate. Their cats are their children, and when they’re not spending way too much time gaming, they’re building new worlds together. Her short stories have appeared in several anthologies, and she made her authorial debut with a racy, erotic short story on a popular porn site for women. She loves a sexy happily-ever-after and helping deserving couples find their futures together.