He smiled to himself.
He was used to working like this. Back in San Antonio, Grace often showed up at his office unannounced, and lingered behind him while he worked, quite literally breathing down his neck.
Sometimes, she tried to tell him how to better use whatever program he was in, which always drove him crazy, considering she had no idea about most of what he was doing in the first place. It was distracting, and he usually told her so.
He had just never told her the full truth as to why.
He looked at the progress bar again. Fifty-two percent. After several seconds, it moved to fifty-four. He could hear the fans on his laptop kicking on. Though it was a powerful machine, it couldn’t top what he had back at the office.
Satisfied that he had a few minutes before he’d get his answers, he turned to Grace.
“You know I hate when you lurk back there,” he said,feigning a serious tone. “It’s the worst kind of backseat driving.”
Grace leaned forward, letting her hair fall over her shoulders. He could smell just a hint of her perfume as her face moved closer to his. “No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do,” he insisted. “It’s distracting.”
Grace laughed. “Why? I’m not doing anything.”
He knew he should look back at the screen. Half a dozen reasons why this was a bad idea hammered against his mind, but he ignored them.
He lifted a hand to her cheek, letting his thumb brush against her skin as his eyes met hers. “You’re short-circuiting my brain. It’s dangerous.”
“Right. Dangerous. You might blow up your computer or something,” she teased as he reached behind her neck, his fingers entangling in her blonde waves.
“Shut up, Hinton,” he said, his words coming out less playfully than he’d expected them to sound as he drew her closer.
Somewhere in the back of his head, his rational mind was urging him to cool it. They were alone in a hotel room, three hundred miles from anyone who knew them.
Aside from all of the reasons that they would never work, this was dangerous, and stupid, and they’d regret it.
But he wanted her.
He was beyond denying it, or pretending that if he just kept his distance that their feelings would just fade away.
And she wanted him, too. She always had. She’d said it herself.
Before he could raise a defense, she was kissing him, her soft pink lips moving hungrily against his own. Grace let out a soft sound that reminded him of a kitten’s mew as she leaned into his chest, and he could feel his heartpounding in his ears as his body responded to every one of her touches.
The computer pinged loudly once, then twice, then three times.
They froze, and then pulled apart, the magic of the moment bursting like a popped soap bubble.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
As his racing heart began to slow, Grace drew herself back onto the bed, smoothing down her hair.
“I’m–I’m so sorry,” she said, looking up at him for only a moment before staring down into her lap. Her cheeks were flushed, and she looked almost as ashamed as he felt.
His gut twisted with guilt. Grace loved Jesus, and though he knew he was no match for her spiritually, he never wanted to do anything to wound her relationship with Him.
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “No. It’s my fault. I know better, and I shouldn’t have let us lose control. It won’t happen again. I promise.”
Grace gave him a weak smile, though her blue eyes were still filled with storms.
“I’m okay with part of it happening again,” he clarified, reaching out to give her hand a squeeze. “But not here. Not where the temptation might get the best of us.”
She brightened at his words, and he found some of his worry fading away. God had protected them and, so long as they were prudent, he’d continue to do so.