It Started at Christmas...

“Not just frozen yogurt, McKenzie, and you know it. I want to date you. As in you and me acknowledging and embracing the attraction between us. As in multiple episodes of mouth-to-mouth and wherever that takes us. I’ve been honest with you that although I’m not interested in something long term, I’m attracted to you. Isn’t it time you’re honest with yourself and me? Because to say our working in the same building is why you won’t date me is what I find ridiculous.”

“But...” She trailed off, not sure what to say. Way beyond her excuse of not wanting to date a coworker, McKenzie was forced to face some truths.

She liked Lance.

She liked seeing glimpses of him every day, seeing his smile, hearing his voice, his laughter, even when it was from a distance and had nothing to do with her. She liked catching sight of him from time to time and seeing his expression brighten when he caught sight of her. She liked the way his eyes ate her up, the way his lips curved upward. She didn’t want him to avoid her or not be happy when he saw her. She didn’t want to stop grabbing a meal with him at the hospital or hanging out with him at group functions. She enjoyed his quick wit, his easy smile, the way he made her feel inside, even if she’d never admitted that to herself. If he shut her out of his life, she’d miss him. She’d miss everything about him.

“You can date other women,” she pointed out, wondering at how her own heart was throbbing at the very idea of seeing him with other women. Not that she hadn’t in the past. But in the past she’d never kissed him. Now she had and couldn’t stand the thought of his lips touching anyone else’s. “You can date some other woman,” she continued in spite of her green-flowing blood. “Then we could still be friends.”

He shook his head. “You’re wrong.”

“How am I wrong?”

He bent his head and touched his lips to hers.

McKenzie’s heart pounded so hard in her chest she was surprised her teeth weren’t rattling. But her thoughts from moments before had her kissing him back with a possessiveness she had no right to feel.

She slid her hands up his chest and twined her arms around his neck, threading her fingers into his dark hair. She kissed him until her knees felt so weak she might sag to the floor in an ooey-gooey puddle. Then she kissed him some more because she wanted him to sag to the floor in an ooey-gooey puddle with her.

The thought that he migh

t cut her out of his life completely gave desperation to how she clung to him.

Desperate. Yep, that was her.

When he pulled slightly away he rested his forehead against hers and stared into her eyes. “That’s some mouth-to-mouth, McKenzie.”

She shook her head. “Mouth-to-mouth restores one’s breath. That totally just stole mine.”

Why was she admitting how much he affected her?

He cupped her face in a caress. “I can’t pretend that doesn’t exist between us. I don’t even want to try. I want you, McKenzie. I want to kiss you. Your mouth, your neck, your breasts, all of you. That’s not how I think of my ‘friends.’”

Fighting back visions of him kissing her all over, she sighed. “You don’t play fair.”

His fingers stroking across her cheek, he arched his brow. “You think not? I’m being honest. What’s unfair about that?”

She let out an exasperated sigh, which had him touching his lips to hers in a soft caress.

Which had her insides doing all kinds of crazy somersaults and happy dances. Okay, so maybe she’d wanted to say yes all along, but that didn’t mean everything about him wasn’t a very bad idea. Just as long as she kept things simple and neither of them fell under false illusions or expectations, she’d be fine.

When he lifted his head, she looked directly into his gaze.

“I will go to the hospital with you and get frozen yogurt afterward with you, but on one condition.”

“Name it.”

She should ask for the moon or something just as elaborately impossible. Then again, knowing him, he’d find a way to pluck it right out of the sky and deliver on time.

“No more mouth-to-mouth at work,” she told him, because the knowledge that she’d dropped to her father’s level with making out at work and to her mother’s level of desperation already cut deep.

He whistled softly. “Not that I don’t see your point, McKenzie, but that might be easier said than done.”

She stepped back, which put her flat against the door. With her chin slightly tilted upward, she crossed her arms. “That’s my condition.”

“Okay,” he agreed, but shook his head as if baffled. “But I’m just not sure how you’re going to do it.”

Her momentary triumph at his Okay dissipated. She blinked. “Me?”