Page 94 of Not How I Saw That Going

He shoves a hand through his hair and shakes his head. “I can’t believe I let Caleb talk me into doing that.“ He drops the cleaner to the ground and takes a step closer. “Unfortunately, I can’t create a comet for you.”

“It’s cute that you tried,” I whisper.

“I’d pull the moon from the sky and fill your house with stars if I could.” His voice drops. “You deserve all that and more.”

My pulse speeds up. This thing between us doesn’t feel so fake anymore, and I don’t want it to be. I’ve fallen for him. Hard. And I’m scared.

Tears escape my eyes for the hundredth time tonight, but this time, for a much different reason.

The corner of Ward’s lips tug downward. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t—you couldn’t…” I shake my head, but the right words aren’t coming out.

Screw words.

I lift up on my toes and press my lips to his… and he doesn’t move. His lips don’t respond to the pressure of mine against his.

I jump back. “I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. I just…”Want to die.

He claims the distance between us with a large step. “Please don’t die.” He lifts my chin up. “You just caught me off guard.”

“Oh?” I swallow. Is that a good thing or a bad thing? If he brings up our fake relationship, I might have a heart attack right here.

Good thing he’s a first responder. The kind who can make your heart fail, then start it right back up.

“I think I’m all caught up now.” His gruff voice makes my pulse pound in every vein, from my fingers to my toes.

His large hands slide around my back and press me into his chest. My new favorite place. His head bends toward mine, so slowly I think I’ll die of old age before he closes the gap between us.

Our lips touch again, and if there weren’t comets in the sky, there are now. Thousands of them. His lips are soft at first, inviting me to catch up, and when I do, it’s like riding a bike. Except without the fear of crashing. His hands move to cradle my neck and he takes his time. I bite at his lip and he groans, digging deeper into the kiss.

I’m so deep, I don’t want to come up for air. I don’t need it anymore. Air is for people who have never kissed a man like Ward.

No. I don’t need air ever again.

Thirty Three

Lyndi

“Comeon,Crew,”Isay, trying to nudge him into the apartment building with my hip before he gets any ideas about running back into the parking lot to find a bug to bring home.

“Don’t push me!” Crew yells, and the old guy who sits on the corner smoking pot 24/7 looks over at me like I’m a terrible mother.

Hey, I wasn’t judging you, buddy.

I shoot Crew a tense smile. “I didn’t push you,” I say and nudge him again because he’s dead weight on this doorstep and I don’t have enough arms to carry him and the groceries.

“Yes, you did,” he screams and drops to the cement in tears.

This is what I get for shopping during nap time.

“Excuse me, miss. Would you like some help?” A woman approaches me.

My first reaction is to deny help. I’m clearly fine pushing my child with my legs (okay, I hear how that sounds now), but I’m all out of energy today. I stayed up much too late kissing Ward and much later reliving every perfect detail.

I turn to the older woman, who is holding a hand out for some groceries.

“That would be wonderful,” I admit, releasing three bags into her arms, which frees up my good arm to pick up Crew instead of pushing him. I prop him up on my hip to keep the weight off my wrist.