Page 36 of Saving Her Heart
"About emotion overriding logic. You broke it today. Completely shattered it, actually."
"I did." I nod in agreement.
"For Mrs. Parsons."
"Yes."
"And for me."
"Especially for you."
She looks up at me, and there's something in her eyes I haven't seen in ten years. "That's dangerous. Choosing emotion over logic."
"Maybe. Or maybe logic's overrated."
"Says the cop who has the entire ordinance manual memorized."
"Said. Past tense." I step closer. "Things change."
"Do they?"
"I have."
The air between us shifts, thickens. She's close enough that I can smell her shampoo—still vanilla, after all this time. Her lips part slightly, and I know I should step back, maintain a professional distance, remember all the reasons why this is a bad idea.
"We should go back," she whispers, but doesn't move.
"We should."
"This is complicated."
"Very."
"There are a million reasons why?—"
"Kendall."
"Yeah?"
"Shut up."
I pull her to me, or she pulls me—I'm not sure who moves first. But suddenly she's pressed against me, my hands in her hair, her fingers gripping my shirt, and we're kissing like the world's ending.
She tastes like coffee and bacon, and every good morning I've missed for ten years. The kiss is desperate, unapologetic, promising—a conversation without words. I back her against the wall, and she makes a sound that shorts circuits my brain entirely.
"God, I missed you," I breathe against her lips.
"Shut up and keep kissing me," she responds, pulling me back down.
Her hands slide under my shirt, nails scraping against my skin, and I forget how to think. I lift her slightly, pressing her more firmly against the wall, and she gasps, her legs instinctively wrapping?—
My phone explodes with alerts. Not a call, but the emergency tone I set for emergencies.
"No," Kendall groans against my mouth. "Not now."
"Ignore it," I say, kissing down her throat.
But the alerts keep coming. Multiple notifications, the sound increasingly urgent.
