Page 13 of Call Me Mrs. Taylor

My eyes flutter, then slowly drift shut. His voice is like silk.

With my heart pounding, I say, “We’ll see.”

He chuckles like he can see the lie spelled out in the air around us. “Lemme walk you to your car.”

I freeze. The last thing I want is him seeing my beat up Corolla. So I call an audible, turning to face him head on. He’s so handsome, I almost fold.

“I know how to get myself to my car,” I purr. “But I appreciate that you’re a gentleman.”

His body is a wall of heat, and his cologne—something warm and woody—wraps around me like a snare. I stand on my toes and lean in, still a few inches shy of his six foot height. Thankfully, he ducks his head, and our lips meet.

The street hums around us, cars rolling by, laughter spilling out of the restaurant every time the door opens, but all I hear is my own pulse, loud and insistent in my ears.

His lips are warm, firm, and demanding. His hand finds my waist, pulling me in, eliminating the last bit of space between us. I sigh against his mouth, which is all the encouragement he needs to slip his tongue past my lips, sliding it against mine, savoring the taste of me. I wrap my arms around him, bringing a hand to the back of his neck, scratching him lightly with my nails. It’s just enough to make him groan into my mouth.

The sound sends something wicked spiraling through me.

I press closer, molding my body to his, so close I can feel the faint shudder that runs through him. He grips my waist tighter, like he’s trying to ground himself in me. But I think it’s too late. He’s already lost.

Good. Because so am I.

When we finally part, we’re both breathing like we just ran a marathon.

“Damn,” he mutters, his forehead resting on mine. “That was…”

“Yeah,” I breathe. My head is spinning.

His fingers dance at my waist. “You’re dangerous.”

I smile, sliding my hands down his chest, feeling the hard lines of his muscles beneath the crisp white fabric. “I told you not to let that baby drink fool you.”

He chuckles, but it sounds tight, like he’s trying to keep himself in check. “I wanna take you home with me.”

“I know,” I say, licking him off my lips.

His eyes are dark and full of need as they flicker over my mouth. “You coming?”

I want to. Both ways. But I let the question hang in the air between us before I pull away, stepping back to smooth my dress.

“Not tonight,” I say softly.

Ace lets out a slow breath, watching me like he’ll lose me if he looks away. “So you’re really gonna leave me like this?”

I tilt my head and give a sympathetic smile. “You’ll survive.”

His laughter is low and strained. “If you don’t hear from me by tomorrow, you’ll know you were wrong.”

I smile, blow him a kiss, and walk away. I feel his eyes on me, but I don’t look back. This is part of his training. His new student orientation.

But this isn’t over.

Not even close.

6

Ace

I stand at the edge of the construction site, hard hat tucked under my arm, staring up at the steel skeleton of what’s supposed to be my bridge. My project. It’s my name all over the plans, and my decisions that move the needle. But standing here, I feel like a fucking fraud.

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