Page 132 of Tangled Like Us

Good. I think most of the family will be happier with a Grandmother Calloway free zone for the foreseeable future. It won’t change anything with security. We’ll still keep tabs on her in case she decides to go rogue again.

Jane and I shift nearer. I slide my hand along the small of her back, and her breath shallows as she tucks hers into my back pocket. We thread together.

This close in the small closet, I can smell her shampoo. Spring. Flowers.

It’s intoxicating.

“We are just two people in a wine closet with zero regrets,” Jane whispers. We stare at one another for a silent moment. Fuck it. I lean down and kiss her. Lips swelling beneath mine. She stands on her tiptoes, and then I pick her up to lessen the strain on both of us. More eyelevel. Lips lined up.

I suck on the bottom of hers.

Her breath catches in her throat, and her fingers tighten in my hair. But it’s her thighs that squeeze around me that causes my cock to beg for her.

“Thatcher,” she breathes my name in my ear like honey dripping down flesh.

I press my mouth to her neck. She moans a little.

Christ.

I pull back just to meet her eyes. I have to be direct. “I’m going to set you down,” I tell her. “Because if we keep kissing, I’m going to put my cock in you.”

Flush dots her cheeks. “That sounds pleasant…”

“Jane.”

“I meant to say, pleasantandsomething we can do later at our scheduled hour.” She smiles and pats my chest. “You may set me down.” Our scheduled hour:tonight. Couldn’t come fast enough.

It takes all my energy to drop her to her feet. But I’m aware that we tend to go overboard when we start making out like this. Too insatiable. Too hungry for each other’s bodies.

Her ballet flats hit the floor and she lets out a deeper breath. I wait for her to adjust her clothes. She pulls up her pants that slipped below her love handles.

When she meets my eyes, I ask, “Good to go?”

“Oui.”

I’m still careful when I open the door. I crack it first, just out of precaution.

Two voices filter in. Clear like they’re standing right outside. It doesn’t much matter if they see us. The public thinks we’re dating. I’m about to open it wider, but I stop when I hearhername.

“Jane Cobaltis here,” the woman says. Her voice is gravel like she’s been smoking too many cigars.

“I saw,” another woman says. “Can’t believe she’s narrating romance books when she went toPrincetonfor math. Girl is wasting her degree.”

“Seriously, why did she even go to school?” The voices drift off until they’re no longer audible.

I turn around to see Jane rolling her eyes.

“You okay?” I ask.

“Everyone has an opinion,” she tells me. “Not all welcome and nice and they can think what they want but it won’t change what I’m doing. So they can go to hell and find someone else to criticize there.”

“Agreed,” I say.

Her lips quirk up. “I like when you do that.”

“Do what?” I open the door fully now. The hallway clear.

“Say only one or two words to get your point across. Like that’s all it takes. And for you, it does.” She holds my gaze for a strong beat. “I just really like that.”