Page 75 of The Kiss Countdown

“Yeah.” I’m glad she buys my excuse. “You’re heading for Minneapolis now, right? You get to enjoy a real season of spring and shop at the biggest mall in America? Maybe I need to come hang with you and Daddy for a while.” With the day I’m having, the thought is more than appealing.

My mom chuckles. “Well, you know I’ve been missing my Mimi, but there’s no need for you to come up here if you want to see us. After your dad finishes his business, we’ll start heading down south for a quick visit home.”

I almost hit my head on the steering wheel as I jerk forward. “Y’all are coming home?”

“It’ll still be about a week from now, but the Watsons recently moved out, so we’ll check on the house, and I need to meet with Dr. Allison. Now, before you ask,” she gets out before I can say anything, “everything is fine. This is a routine checkup. And Daddy and I would love to catch up with you over lunch or dinner. Unless you’ll be too busy like you’ve been too busy to answer your phone lately.”

Her guilt trip works perfectly, and I grimace. “Of course I won’t be too busy. I’d love to see you and Daddy. Just keep me posted on when you’ll be here.”

We hang up a few minutes later, and my heart races the whole ride home. My parents are coming back to town way earlier than I expected. I thought I’d have at least a few more months to get my life settled before they came back. What if they want to come by my apartment, which I no longer have? Or meet up with Derrick, who’s no longer in my life?

My life isn’t hanging in suspense now. I have a home to sleep in, and despite this week’s setback, I believe I’m on my way to a successful business. Sure, I don’t have the longest roster of clientele, but that will come with time. There’s always the option to come clean about everything. I don’t have to mention the hospital bill I paid off, but I could tell them about Vincent.

I blow out a breath. And what, exactly, will I tell my parents about Vincent? It’s not like we’retogethertogether, like Gina asked me. Yes, we had our scorching make-out sessions, but after nearly a week of silence from him, it’s obvious we were both caught up in the moment and driven by our mutual attraction to each other. Which is fine. It’s for the best in the long run. Because if there’s one thing Idon’t need, it’s to be tied up over a man when I have my business to focus on.

So no, I will not be telling my parents about him.

Ten minutes later, I pull up to the house and see Vincent’s truck is parked on the side of the street.

If he’d come home two days ago, I probably would have been delighted to see him back. But now, after the news from my parents, the realization that Vincent had all week to reach out to me and didn’t, and the overall suckiness of today, I park and slam my car door. Inside, Vincent’s black suitcase is dumped on the floor of the entryway right beside his shoes. I use my foot to push it out of the middle of the walkway and make my way to the bedroom to get changed. There, he’s thrown his navy suit jacket on the bed instead of hanging it up. I ball up my fist, knowing I’m at my tipping point.

The sounds of footsteps and the rustling of fabric reach my ears, and I turn around as Vincent appears from the hallway.

Still clad in navy slacks and a black button-down, he leans against the doorframe, filling the space with his broad shoulders. Thick biceps stretch the smooth material of his shirt as he folds his arms over his chest before looking me up and down with enough heat blazing in his eyes that my toes would curl if I let them. I don’t.

“I thought I heard you get in,” he says with a lazy grin.

I cross my arms, but unlike him, I know my stance comes off as aggressive. “You know, there’s no use in keeping nice things if you’re not going to take care of them.”

Vincent slowly straightens and looks at me blankly. “Uh...”

“I don’t think it would have killed you to hang up your jacket or put the suitcase in the closet. And you do realizethere’s plenty of room in the driveway for both cars, so you don’t have to block traffic with your monster truck, right?”

I tip my chin up as he huffs out a breath and stalks toward the bed. But instead of grabbing the jacket, Vincent reaches for my shoulders. Awareness jolts through me, licking up my arms like an electrical pulse as his hands slide down to squeeze my own, and while I frown, I don’t pull away.

I fight to keep my voice steady, strong, and unaffected. I will not be undone by a simple touch. “What are you doing?”

Vincent raises my right hand and lays a soft kiss against my knuckles. He mirrors the action on my left hand, letting his lips linger over the ring I have yet to put away for safekeeping, and I feel the icicles around my heart melting. Then, pushing my curls from my face, he cups the back of my neck and murmurs over my mouth, “If you missed me, just say that.”

My gasp of indignation turns into a sigh of pleasure as Vincent’s warm lips cover mine, and I don’t hesitate in pushing closer to him.

As much as I hate to acknowledge it, he’s the missing piece I needed all week. The reason the sun’s shine has been that much duller has a name and a face, and a horrible habit of slipping under my every defense. Vincent’s arms ground me. He’s warm and solid in every literal and figurative sense, and I can’t think of a time when being in another man’s embrace made me feel this good. He makes me feel needy. Greedy. Like I want to get close to him until the world stops.

Vincent breaks the kiss but keeps his forehead pinned to mine. “Better?”

I shake my head no. As much as I needed that momentof connection, he will not pacify me with a measly kiss. Like he didn’t just go off-grid for a whole week while I was left to wonder if he was thinking about me or regretting everything we did. “You didn’t call or text.”

“I know. I’m sorry, Mimi.” He kisses the tip of my nose. “But I thought of you. Constantly.”

With a scoff, I brace my hands on his chest and push him away from me. The bed is right behind him, so he lands sitting on the edge, then looks at me with his eyes wide. Good, I’ve surprised him. Hopefully even scared him a bit. I can take the same advice I gave Gina.

“That’s all you have to say? ‘Mimi, I missed you’?” My voice is a perfect imitation of his vapid apology as I watch him through narrowed eyes. “I don’t understand what’s going on here. When we spend time together, you’re all in, but then you just go off and disappear. You have to focus on your mission. I get it, and I respect it. But I’m not an afterthought.” The more I talk, the more I kick myself for letting down my guard, knowing full well where his priorities lie. He even told me with his own words how his relationship with his ex failed. Did I really expect him to change after a few kisses?

“You’re right.” He heaves a deep breath and reaches for my hips. “And I really am sorry.”

The only reason I don’t jerk from his hold is because I can clearly see remorse etched into his features. That, and those damn topaz eyes that pierce right through me.

“You’re not an afterthought,” he says. “You’re theonlythought. For weeks, you’ve lived rent-free not only in my house, but in my head. I’m having to work off muscle memory to finish tasks and read data three times before I can understand it, because I’m wondering what you’re doing and if you’ll be home when I get back. I’m obsessed.”

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