Page 59 of His Best Friend's Baby

“What are you doing here, Julia?”

“I…ah…was just out for a walk,” she muttered. She was proud of herself for meeting his eyes. For not looking away despite the intensity between them and the lack of oxygen in the room.

“You do a lot of walking.” He put the pencil and tape measure down and took a step closer to her. She tilted her head back wondering, thrilled and scared, what he was going to do. “And you always end up at my door.”

His thigh butted her knee and she let her legs fall open. Her foot went to the ground and Jesse moved in until she could feel the heat of him between her legs, down the front of her body.

She swallowed audibly. His hand touched her face, skimmed her hair. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his eyes branding every inch of her face.

“I’m plain,” she said and then wished she could just gag herself for the next hour or so.

Jesse just shook his head. “Not to me.” His other hand came up and cupped her throat. She swallowed again, her head, so heavy, tilted back at an awkward angle, but she didn’t care as long as he kept touching her. “I’ve thought about you every day since Germany.”

I must be dreaming, she thought. Or I’ve stumbled down a rabbit hole.

It was as though this terrible, wonderful moment had been plucked from her dreams.

“I thought of you,” she whispered. It was all she allowed herself to admit. She couldn’t begin to tell him the hole his brief presence in and subsequent absence from her life had made. And how every day she gazed into that hole and wondered if she’d see him again.

He bent, she stretched and their lips touched. A kiss. Soft, sweet, fleeting and then gone.

Her eyes fluttered open only to see him staring down at her with an expression she couldn’t discern.

“What are you thinking?” she asked after the silence had expanded too much and he seemed content to just watch her.

“Dangerous question.” He seemed so solemn. Serious. She wondered what he saw when he looked at her that made him so sad.

His hands touched her face one more time and her eyelids fluttered shut. His fingertips skimmed her eyelashes, her cheekbones, her earlobes. He touched her lips and they parted on a gasp. She felt alive, electric, in every sense. Every cell and fiber of her body was trained on him. Focused with a sexual intensity she’d never known existed. She was so attuned to him, she hurt. She ached where his hands didn’t touch her. She burned where his breath didn’t reach.

And then suddenly he was gone.

Her eyes flew open and that, too, hurt.

He put up a hand as if warding her off. “That kiss was for me. Something I’ve wanted for years, but we need to talk. Not about Mitch or meat loaf but about—” he waved a hand between them “—this.”

“Okay.” She shook her head. “We can talk.”

“I’m not staying here,” he said and the words barely made a dent in her desire. “I’m leaving soon.”

“How soon?”

“A week, two at the most.” The solemnity in his eyes drilled through her. “I want you. That’s not a secret anymore.”

She stood. “I want you, too, Jesse.”

“But I’m leaving. I can’t stay and anything…” He paused, took a deep breath. “Anything between us—anything sexual—would just complicate things.”

“When have things ever been easy?” she asked and stepped toward him.

“Probably never, since you seem bent on pushing the issue,” he snapped. He took a step back. “I already feel responsible for you being here, for Mitch.”

“Don’t,” she said firmly.

He blew out a big breath. “I wish you saying that could change it, but it doesn’t. Nothing can happen between us. This is the right thing to do.”

“Nothing? How can that be right?” How can that be right when I am burning alive?

He grabbed her arms when she was within reach and held her away from him. “You wanted friendship. We can be friends, but that’s all. That’s it. I can’t deal with any more.”

“You just kissed me,” she reminded him, exasperated.

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