Page 17 of Kilo's Edge

“It’s okay,” she said, shaking her head. “My dad died a few years ago. We’re not exactly over it.” She gave me a wry smile.

I glanced over my shoulder, then pulled her gently out onto the porch with me and shut the door. “I want to thank you properly for the home cooked meal.” My lips were on hers before she could respond.

All damn day I’d been thinking about her. About kissing her again. My dick kept interrupting the work on the window toremind me of the woman inside the house who I wanted to see. To get to know better.

She let out a soft moan and arched into me, forcing a groan from my own chest. She was soft and sweet, but underneath all that I recognized an iron will and courage.

Pinning her against the side of the house, I let my mouth explore hers, but I kept my hands PG and only used them to cup her cheeks. I didn’t want to scare her away, or piss her off. But she was addictive and I knew I wasn’t going to think of anything else tonight.

She pulled away a bit and I huffed out a breath. “Sorry, you’re just so damn beautiful.”

She stared up at me, her cheeks a rosy pink under the porch lights. “Thank you. I like kissing you,” she added. “I just…”

“It’s too soon,” I finished for her. Using my fingers, I caught her chin, angling her face upward so I could drop a quick kiss on her lips. “I know. Thanks again for dinner. Come to the range Friday at three and we’ll do some shooting. Then we’ll grab dinner afterward.”

She nodded and waited, watching as I walked away from her. I wasn’t sure if she was waiting until I got into my house, or if she just wasn’t ready to go inside and face her family, but either way it made me grin.

I shut my front door, then rubbed my hand over my short hair in agitation. “What the hell are you doing?” I muttered. This wasn’t in the plans.Shewasn’t in them, but I couldn’t seem to help myself. She was drawing me in. And it wasn’t even like she was doing it on purpose.

My phone buzzed and I took it out to look at the reminder that we had church in the morning. I’d finished the window not long before dinner started, and that was only because I was taking my sweet ass time so I had a reason to hang around and talk to Camila as much as possible.

I was conflicted. Whenever I was alone I tried to convince myself I should leave her be. But I couldn’t stop thinking about her. And ended up finding any excuse I could to see her. I was damn glad she was agreeing to go out with me. Fucking ecstatic that she’d asked for help with her gun. And I was going to keep finding ways to take up all her time. There didn’t seem to be any other choice.

“Fuck off,”I muttered. Overdrive’s eyes were boring into the side of my face as we sat and waited for the other officers to settle down in the seats around the table the next morning.

“You didn’t answer the door last night.”

“Wasn’t home,” I told him, tossing him a dark look. I knew where he was going with this. He wasn’t reading any of the signs on my face saying I didn’t want to talk about it. Or my verbal warning. Asshole.

“Didn’t answer your phone either.”

“I was busy. Who are you, my mother?”

“No,” he replied, cocking his head to the side. “But I bet Maria would be thrilled to hear that her son has found himself a lady friend-”

“Don’t even think about calling my mother,” I sighed.

Overdrive grinned. “What did she make?”

“My mother?” I asked, confused.

“No. Camila. She had you over for dinner, right?” He leaned his arms on the table. “What did she make?”

“Pozole.”

He groaned. “No shit? How was it?”

“Best fucking pozole I’ve ever had.”

“Oh,” he hooted out with a laugh. “Now I really have something to hold over your head with your mom.” He held out his phone and hit a button. “Say that again?”

“Fuck you.”

He rolled his eyes. “Bro, you’ve gotten two home cooked meals out of her-”

“You ate one,” I reminded him.

“Why are you so fucking bitchy this morning?”

---