Page 5 of Rescuing Aria

My fingers twitch at my sides, aching to hold on to something. To him.

Jon’s hand lifts to my cheek, his touch reverent, his gaze tracing every line of my face like he’s memorizing it.

“I’ve waited far too long for this,” he says, voice rough with meaning.

My heart stutters. My breath tangles.

He doesn’t ask. Doesn’t hesitate.

He just leans in—and I let him.

The kiss starts softly. A brush. A promise.

His lips barely ghost over mine at first, like he’s asking permission without words. Like he’s giving me the chance to change my mind.

I don’t.

I tilt my chin, lean in, answer with my mouth, and the ragged inhale I can’t hold back.

Then he deepens it—slow and sure. No rush. No force. Just heat blooming between us like a match struck in the dark. His hand slides to my waist, grounding me, anchoring me in place. When he pulls me closer, our bodies slot together like we were always meant to find each other.

My fingers fist in the front of his shirt. I need the feel of him—solid, warm, real—to believe this is actually happening.

His mouth moves over mine, every tilt of his head, every flick of his tongue purposeful, like he’s memorized the kiss before he ever dared steal it. There’s restraint in him, in the tight line of his shoulders, in how he’s holding back from devouring me. But underneath? Tension hums like a wire stretched to its limit.

I taste cinnamon on his tongue, feel the low rumble in his chest when I kiss him back harder, deeper.

And then—stillness.

He pulls back just enough to look at me, our foreheads brushing, breath mingling.

“You okay?” he asks, voice like gravel and velvet all at once.

My lips are tingling, swollen, stunned. I nod, breathless.

“Yeah,” I whisper. “I’m more than okay.” A beat of silence. My heart hammers in my throat, but I push past it, voice smaller now. “Can we—do that again?”

“Yeah, we can.” The corner of his mouth lifts in a crooked smile. He chuckles, low and warm, like I’ve just handed him the one thing he’s wanted most. “Should’ve done this a hell of a lot sooner.”

Then he leans in, this time with no hesitation. One arm slides around my waist, pulling me tight to his chest. My hands loop over his shoulders instinctively, fingers threading into the hair at the nape of his neck. His body is all heat and hard lines, anchoring me to something I didn’t know I needed until this moment.

His mouth finds mine again—deeper this time. Hungrier. Like now that he’s tasted me, he’s done pretending he can stay away. The rest of the world falls away. All that exists is this—his breath, his warmth, the delicious ache blooming low in my belly as his kiss claims me completely.

“Oh, thank God,” Charlie mutters from somewhere behind us. “Finally.”

A cheer goes up from the team, and we spring apart, both blushing furiously.

“About time,” Jenny calls from across the store. “Now, maybe we can all focus on actual work?”

But she’s smiling too, and even Charlie and Brett look genuinely happy for us.

The rest of the day passes in a blur of happiness and nonstop sales. By closing time, the shelves are nearly bare, and Ryn’s entire collection has sold out.

“We did it,” I breathe, collapsing onto the counter as I kick off my shoes. Jon’s arm slides naturally around my waist, like it was always meant to be there.

Ember leans against the door, hair slipping loose from her braid, cheeks flushed with triumph. “I think I’m actually high on lavender and adrenaline.”

“Same,” I laugh, rubbing at the tight knot between my shoulders.