Page 21 of When You Got a Good Thing (Misfit Inn 1)

She shifted until she could look him in the face. “Xander.” She didn’t know what she wanted to say, what she wanted to ask. Then he cupped her face in that big, broad palm, and the words dried up, leaving nothing in their wake but a wanting she saw reflected in his eyes.

His thumb stroked her cheek, his gaze dropping to her mouth. “Kennedy.”

Her breath quickened, and the air between them seemed to pulse. It was absolute madness to act on this. But had she ever used good sense when it came to Xander? She wanted him. She always had.

Her hand curled into his shirt as her heart began to thunder. The vinyl seat creaked as he shifted to lower his head.

“The sun’s coming up.” She blurted the words in a last ditch effort to save them both.

Xander blinked and looked out the windshield at the first sliver of daylight glimmering over the misty peaks.

The break in eye contact enabled her to regain a little control. “I should probably

get home.” When she pushed against his chest for leverage, he let her go, and Kennedy did her best to ignore the crushing disappointment.

As he cranked the Bronco and headed back toward her house, she told herself this was for the best. Yeah, she planned to stay in Eden’s Ridge, at least so long as the family needed her. But she wasn’t in any position to make promises, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to do anything to yank him around again. If tonight had proved anything, it was that Xander Kincaid was a fixture in the Ridge and that wasn’t going to change.

When they reached the house, he shut off the engine.

“What are you doing?”

“Well, I’m either walking you to the door or I’m helping you shimmy up the bodock tree to sneak back into your room. Your choice.”

The image made her grin, which was a wholly unexpected end to the night. There was no telling how many times she’d gone up and down that tree in the years she’d lived here. “I don’t know if the window is unlocked, so I guess I’m going in the front door and hoping nobody’s up yet.”

They quietly climbed the steps. Kennedy checked the knob and found it unlocked. Leaving it closed, she turned back to Xander. “Thanks for last night. Being back here, dealing with Mom, with my sisters—it’s been hard. You helped, more than you know.”

“I’ll always lend an ear. Or a shoulder. I hope you know that.”

She did, and it made her feel small and unworthy, knowing she had to keep lying to him, even if only by omission. He was good man, who deserved better. Suddenly too choked up to speak, she could only nod.

“Hey. It’s all right. Come here, now.” Xander drew her against him, wrapping around her, until she felt surrounded, protected.

Kennedy burrowed in, holding tight and struggling not to break apart. She shouldn’t do this, shouldn’t lean on him. And she’d stop. In a minute. But it just felt so damned good not to be alone. To borrow someone else’s strength for once.

He threaded his fingers in her hair and gently massaged her scalp. It was an old, comforting gesture, something he’d done a hundred times before that never failed to release the tension. Another few minutes, and she’d fall asleep on her feet.

“You’re going to put me to sleep,” she murmured.

“I can carry you up.”

As appealing as that idea was, the last thing she needed was Xander anywhere near her bed. Or, worse, to run into any of her sisters, who’d assume she left last night for a booty call with her ex. Since that was definitely not happening, she needed to haul her own ass upstairs. Alone.

Intent on stepping back, Kennedy lifted her head. Whatever she’d been about to say spilled out of her head as she met his eyes. Steady and warm, they bored into hers, seeing far more than she wanted. But he’d always seen her. Hadn’t that been part of his appeal?

“Xander.” She didn’t know if it was a warning or a plea. But she didn’t move. Not when he shifted his hold from a hug to an embrace. Not when he tipped her face up to his. When his lips brushed hers, she sighed and melted into him.

He tasted like home. Like sweet tea and apple stack cake and picnics on the mountain. Like every good thing she’d denied herself for what felt like a lifetime. The slow, coaxing kiss took her back to long, lazy summer days, and—when he traced her lips with his tongue—even hotter summer nights. He swept her back to a far simpler time, when their whole lives had stretched out before them and nothing else mattered but being together.

Rising to her toes, Kennedy slid her hands into his hair, angling her mouth to take the kiss deeper as sweetness gave way to a deep, vicious need. But he didn’t bow to her demand. After one quick nip, Xander eased her back from the edge, showing a ruthless patience he hadn’t had at eighteen. She whimpered in protest, too far gone for sense or reason.

His voice was rough when he spoke. “Lark.”

Her old nickname was another link to the past, part of a history too long denied.

“I know you’ve got a lot to deal with coming back. Repairing things with your sisters. Sorting things with Ari. But promise me you’ll think about this, too.”

With her body flushed and her lips still tingling from his, she’d have promised him anything. She managed some vague noise of assent.

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