Page 36 of Where She Belongs
My heart stutters in my chest. “Research is important in our field.”
“Critical,” he agrees, humor dancing in his eyes though his voice remains serious. “And we’re nothing if not thorough in our investigations.”
We’re circling something dangerous, using humor and professional language to mask the very real curiosity building between us. Part of me wants to pull back, to make a joke and break this mounting tension. But another part—a part I’ve been suppressing for longer than I care to admit—wants to see where this leads.
“Maybe,” I suggest, my voice barely audible, “we should satisfy our curiosity. For science.”
A slow smile spreads across his face. “For science,” he agrees. “A controlled experiment.”
“Exactly,” I breathe. “One variable at a time.”
His hand slides to cup my cheek, his touch gentle yet confident. “And what’s our hypothesis, Dr. Martin?”
“That playing these roles so convincingly,” I whisper, “might make us better actors than we thought.”
“An excellent hypothesis,” he murmurs, his eyes darkening as he leans slightly closer. “Though there’s one complication we should address.”
“What’s that?”
“Last night, came back to the suite while you were taking a shower,” I admit, keeping my eyes on his. “The bathroom door wasn’t fully closed and I heard... everything.”
Understanding dawns in his eyes, followed by shock, embarrassment, and then something darker, more intense. “Everything?” he asks, his voice dropping an octave.
“Everything.”
For a moment, he looks like he might pull away, might retreat behind humor or denial. Instead, his gaze steadies on mine.
“Well,” he says finally, his thumb tracing my lower lip in a touch so light it might be imagination, “in the interest of scientific integrity, we should probably account for that variable too.”
And then he’s kissing me, closing the final distance between us with a gentleness that belies the heat in his eyes. His lips are warm, tentative at first, as if giving me every opportunity to pull away. When I don’t—when I lean into him instead—the kiss deepens, transforming from question to answer in the space of a heartbeat.
This is nothing like I imagined during those rare moments of weakness. It’s better—more real, more complex. There’s no artifice in the way he holds me, no practiced moves or calculated pressure. Just Gabe, the man who’s been at my side for a decade, who knows my coffee order and my insecurities, who’s seen me at my professional best and personal worst.
I find myself responding with equal honesty, letting the kiss communicate what words can’t quite capture. My hand slides up to tangle in his hair, drawing him closer, erasing the last vestiges of hesitation between us.
When we finally break apart, both slightly breathless, there’s wonder in his eyes that mirrors what I’m feeling—surprise at the intensity, at the rightness of something we’re both still pretending is just curiosity and research.
“Well,” he says, voice rougher than before, “I believe our experiment yielded interesting results.”
A laugh bubbles up, unexpected but genuine. “Preliminary findings are promising,” I agree, my fingers still absently playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “Though proper scientific method would suggest we need to replicate the experiment.”
His smile turns wicked. “Multiple trials? I like the way you think, Dr. Martin.”
He leans in again, his intent clear in the darkening of his eyes, but before our lips meet, my phone chimes loudly from the nightstand. We both freeze, the real world intruding on our perfect, suspended moment.
“Should I get that?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
“Probably,” he sighs, rolling onto his back as I reach for the phone.
It’s a text from Tristy:Mom! Final fitting in 30 mins! WHERE ARE YOU??
I glance at the time display and groan. “I’m late. The final dress fitting.”
“Do you need to go?” Gabe asks, though we both know the answer.
“I do.” I sit up reluctantly, already calculating how quickly I can shower and dress. “Mother of the bride duties call.”
He nods, understanding in his eyes. “We’ll continue our experiment later?”
