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Kenna considers that, and I wait to see what she’s going to say next before I offer any further comment.

I don’t know why she’s protecting me. I sure as hell don’t deserve it.

From the moment I first saw her, I haven’t deserved it. I’ve been an arrogant ass to her, and she’s repaid me with more generosity than I have any right to receive.

Kenna shakes her head slowly. “I took this job for a reason. I mean, because I need a paycheck, obviously. But also because of all the great work happening here.”

Something in my chest loosens and tightens all at once. Some of the tension I’ve been carrying fades away, but a pulse of grief and regret rises right up to fill the space.All the great work happening here.I’d like to believe that’s true, but it’s been hard to find that certainty these past few months.

Kenna meets my eyes again, and there’s a sad sort of resolve written clearly on her face that puts an echoing pulse of guilt in the center of my chest.

“I don’t know why I’m doing this, whateverthisis,” she says softly as she gestures between us. “I don’t know why I’m… I’m…”

So many different ways she could finish that sentence. She doesn’t know why she hasn’t told me to get the hell out of her life. She doesn’t know why she’s protecting me. She doesn’t know why she’s giving me a single moment of her time or consideration.

Any answer would be right, and all are exactly what I deserve.

“What do you want to happen?” I ask her. “With us. Do you want to just call it now and walk away?”

Even as I say the words, every single instinct in me rebels against the idea. Walk away from Kenna? Let the spark of whatever’s burning between us go out before I’ve gotten the chance to really know her, to feel all of that fire burning in her?

“That’s not what I want,” she whispers.

She lets out a harsh, shuddering breath, and before I can think better of it, I’ve got my arms around her. Kenna goes rigid in my hold for a moment before relaxing into the embrace.

It feels… right. Holding her like this. Feeling the beat of her heart and the rise and fall of her breath.

The compulsion that grabbed me by the throat when I first saw her rises in me again. The confounding instinct that would have me keep her, hold her, hide her away somewhere she’d be safe. It blanks out everything else, everything that makes me certain I should be the one to relent and let her go.

If I were a better man, I’d listen to that voice of reason.

“Come to my place tonight?” I ask her. “We need to talk, but this isn’t the time or place to do so.”

Kenna nods where she’s got her head resting against my chest, and though it nearly kills me, I let her go and take a step back.

“I’m sorry about all of this,” I tell her, glancing around the filing room. “If you’d like, I can speak with Yvette and—”

“No. I think the less we have to do with each other at work would be best, don’t you?”

She’s right. I know she’s right. Yet the idea I can’t even do this small favor for her grates against my conscience. Pushing the feeling down, I nod.

When I don’t make a move to leave, Kenna gestures toward the door.

“You should probably go.”

I know I should, but I stay rooted to the spot, torn by indecision.

Without giving myself time to second guess, I lean in and catch her mouth for a brief kiss. Kenna’s breath hitches, and though it takes her a moment, she presses into me and moans softly against my mouth.

Gods above, I could get lost in that sound, lost in the taste and the feel of her, but luckily my ember’s got better sense than I do.

“Go,” she whispers as she pulls back, eyes still closed and long lashes laying against her cheeks. “Please.”

With one finger under her chin, I tilt her face up toward mine. “Look at me.”

Her green eyes flick open.

They’re like emeralds and springtime and new, unfurling leaves. A million pure, untarnished things I don’t deserve.