Page 43 of A Temporary Forever

“Two years, three hundred and sixty-three days,” I quip. “And yet you think I wouldn’t be interested in talking about your new business venture. Because I wouldn’t understand?”

He studies me for a moment. It’s slightlyunnerving now after I experienced the explosion that kiss detonated, but I hold his gaze without wavering.

“I left my company because I realized I like fixing things. I like taking something that is broken, inefficient, and making it work. After Finn and I brought the company our father created into the twenty-first century and implemented—or at least planned—all the changes, I found myself at a loss. Like running a well-oiled machine became a chore. An unexciting existence. It must sound reckless.”

He shakes his head, as if he doesn’t like what he’s saying, what he’s feeling.

I dab the corners of my mouth with my napkin. “I mean, I enjoyed teaching dancing because there was variety. New people, and always some fire to put out. And I enjoyed when I danced in clubs because that was pure unpredictable chaos.

“In fact, my current job, that might seem like a pinnacle of success in my field because of its stability, and the triumph of the opening night, honestly feels a bit tedious. Don’t get me wrong, I love the performance, but the regularity and familiarity of it is…”

“Boring,” he finishes for me.

I smile. “Yes. I guess we’re both reckless.”

“Obviously, since we just committed a felony.”

“Oh, my.” I clutch my chest dramatically. “Whatare you accusing me of? I married you because you’re my one and only.” A grin pulls at my cheeks.

“One and only idiot available at short notice.” He raises his eyebrows, but the corner of his lips twitches.

I shrug innocently. “La fin justifie les moyens.”

He groans and closes his eyes momentarily.

“Are you okay?” I drop my fork.

“Yeah.” He gulps down his wine and refills his glass. “Anyway, I thought I’d take some time off and figure out what I want to do, but I ran into an old friend, and he has an opportunity that feels like the right fit.”

Something like regret hangs in his words, which doesn’t really fit the Caleb I know.

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those people who pass on an opportunity because they had other plans.”

He laughs. “No, it’s just one of the partners hurt Saar years ago.”

Warmth spreads inside me. “You’re very protective of your sister.”

He sighs. “I love her, but she can take advantage of my affliction.”

“Oh, I can totally see that. This time, it worked to my advantage.”

I didn’t mean more than my visa, but the air between us fills with meaning beyond that. Our eyesmeet again in a silent conversation I don’t understand, setting off butterflies in my stomach.

I fidget in my seat, rubbing my thighs together, because his eyes have arson-like side effects, setting my body on fire.

“I think Saar would understand.” I swallow around the lump in my throat, and Caleb nods.

How does a conversation about a business opportunity get this hot? This makes no sense.

And how is it that in the course of twenty-four hours, his jabs are funnier, and my need to razz him is softer?

Have we both just accepted we’re stuck together, so we’re playing nicer? Did that fake kiss that felt so honest reset our chemistry?

Have we reached some sort of unexpected truce without even discussing it? And why do I want him to kiss me again?

I feel comfortable and uncomfortable with Caleb, all at the same time. It’s like intellectually we’re barely finding common ground, but physically? My ovaries and panties are melting. But leaning into that desire would be a disaster.

It’s not like we can have a one-night stand where I’d leave in the middle of the night, itch scratched. Jesus.

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