What about Tiffany? Guilt pinched at the thought of his girlfriend, but she refused to speak the woman’s name into the moment.

She backed away, letting her arms fall, needing a little space before she asked the next question. “What—what was that about, Aiden?”

His own arms fell to his sides. “I don’t know. It was—me, wanting you, like I always have.”

She didn’t want to say it, but it needed to be said. “To what end? It can’t go anywhere. I live here, and you live in Charleston.”

A dozen thoughts seemed to flicker in his eyes before he responded. “You’re right. I guess we should just . . . forget it ever happened.”

Fat chance of that. But for now she put aside thoughts of the kiss. “Are you sure you want to stay longer? Maybe it’d be best if—”

“I’ll be more careful. Do I owe you an apology?”

She gazed into his eyes and couldn’t work up an ounce of regret. “There were two people involved in that kiss.”

A smile played at the corner of his lips, crooked and charming. “So there were.”

A smile trembled on her lips, and her shoulders sank at the breaking of tension.

He backed away, shelving his hands on his waist. “We should get back to the carpet. Then I’ll sweep up and mop the floor.”

Sophie surveyed the unfinished space with the dull floors and barren blue walls. They had plenty of work to distract them. She had a feeling they were going to need all of it.

*  *  *

Aiden slopped the mop around the floor, jamming it too hard into the woodwork. Sophie had gone outside for some fresh air, and he was glad for a moment alone. Ever since that kiss it seemed like the air in the room had thickened, making it impossible to draw a full breath.

He jabbed the mop into the corner. He was such an idiot. He’d gone and taken a taste of her, and he of all people should’ve known what a mistake that would be. She was downright addictive—that much hadn’t changed. He already wanted to get his arms around her again—and for what? Sophie was right. What future could they have?

He only half regretted telling her he’d stay. She needed the help, and he wasn’t convinced her brother and sister would drop everything and come to her rescue. Besides, Sophie would do whatever it took to get this store finished in time, up to and including reinjuring herself.

It would only be five more days, and he’d feel much better leaving with the shop finished. Anyway, after all this effort he wanted to see the finished product.

He threw down the mop, pulled his phone from his pocket, and opened it to Tiffany’s last message, which he hadn’t yet responded to. What was one more delay in his return home?