She lifted her chin in assent. The kiss was deep and full, tasting of mint and coffee and desire. Bark gouged her back again, and she pulled into him to relieve the pressure. His touch moved from strong to soft and back again, making her head spin. Every moment with this man was a surprise.

A sharp inhalation sliced through their kiss, and he jerked away.

She flinched and opened her eyes. Her hair snagged on a jagged patch of bark, and she tugged it with one hand. Several strands tore away with pinprick stings before she finally freed herself.

With a muffled curse, he stumbled backward, groped in his pocket, and removed his phone.

The insistent, vibrating whine was like the moan of a sick cow. She wanted to curse the thing too. Or just snatch it and hurl it into the woods.

One swift swipe and he silenced it.

She tightened her ponytail. “Is something wrong?”

Stepping into her again, he placed a finger over her mouth and kissed her around it.

His full lips were gentler now. She stilled.

“Look, I’d like nothing better than to stay here all afternoon.” Pulling away, he glanced at his phone and expelled a forceful breath. “But I have to go in today after all. My schedule’s a nightmare. I hope you can learn to live with it.”

“Richard—”

“I’m sorry.” He traced one finger along the collar of her tank top.

The ground beneath her seesawed, and she melted into the sycamore.

His finger slid beneath her tank strap, and he gave a light tug. “I am, however, taking you out this week. We’ll have to wait until Thursday, but if you can stand it, I guess I can, too.”

So many words coming at her when she was still reeling. What did he say about Thursday? “I-I guess.”

“Excellent.”

His phone buzzed again.

He groaned. “I’ve got to go.”

Finding her footing between tree roots, she pushed away from the trunk. The scratchy imprint of bark tingled on her shoulder blades.

“Thursday night. Seven thirty. Wear something to show off those shoulders.” He took up her hand and kissed it, first on her knuckles and then on the inside of her wrist. “I love your freckles.”

She let out an airy laugh. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you.” He backed away in long, slow strides, pivoted, and disappeared into the pines.

With his scent still lingering, she dropped her head against the sycamore. The heat from his body suffused her skin.

What. Just. Happened?

The unseen SUV roared to life and slid into gear. The hum of tires against gravel flared and diminished. Quiet settled over the backyard, save for the laughing call of a woodpecker and wind whistling through the pines.