Page 96 of The Overtime Kiss

That last one doesn’t sit well with me though. Hanging out here in her bed late at night? This is the best I’ve felt in a long time. “You mean when the kids are home?” I ask, hoping she likes that technicality too.

“Sure, but also because we don’t want to get used to this.”

“It’s every other week. You can’t get that used to it,” I say, trying to convince her.

“True,” she says, and I want to pump a fist, because do I ever want to wrap her in my arms tonight.

“And no one says ‘pretend it didn’t happen,’” I add because I know how important that is to her.

“Yes. Good,” she says, then hesitates like something is weighing on her.

My gut twists with worry, but it’s best to be upfront. “What is it, baby?”

“When it’s over, it’s over. We move on. I enjoy my job, and I want to keep doing it,” she says, sounding so damn vulnerable, and it hits me exactly how much she has to lose. “Is that okay?”

I don’t want to hurt her like others did. Like Chad did. Like her dad did.

I don’t want to take all the things away from her that she needs and depends on.

I want to be a man she can rely on.

“You’re not going to lose your job,” I try to reassure her. “You’re a fantastic nanny. You’re great with the kids. I need you desperately.”

She smiles, warm and pleased. “Good. Because I’m kind of falling in love with the gig.”

That is music to my ears. But it also means we need to be smart and logical. “We’ll be adults. It’s a promise. It’s a game plan, and we’ll follow it. When the game is over, it’s over,” I say even though the words taste sour on my tongue.

She sticks out a hand. “Deal.”

I take it and shake. This is exactly what we need. And exactly what I hate. But it’s necessary.

After jerking her closer, I drop a kiss to those sweet lips. “Sealed with a kiss,” I say, focusing on touch again.

She rolls her eyes. “You’re such a cheeseball.”

I scoff. “Am not.”

“A little.”

“Would a cheeseball want to fuck you to pieces?”

She seems to mull that over. “Maybe.”

“We should find out then for sure. What’s on your list?” I ask. “I’m dying to know.”

“That’s a surprise.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Wouldn’t that make it more fun, if everything was a surprise?”

Actually, she’s right. “You keep me on my toes, Sabrina Snow. You know that, right?”

“I think I do.”

I tug her closer, sweep her hair off her cheek. “I’m going to be counting down the days to your next surprise.”

“Or the minutes,” she says, letting the words roll off her lips seductively.

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