Kate leaned across the chair. Her nose barely brushed Tilly’s before Tilly turned her head, stiffened.

The moment stilled.

Tilly’s eyes flickered across the terminal. “I’m sorry,” she rasped. “I didn’t mean to…”

Devastation gripped Kate. She pulled back, sank further into the seat. “I know.”

Tilly’s stare caught hers, implored her to try again.

Kate shook her head. She turned her hand over in Tilly’s and let their fingers link. “If I kiss you now,” she rasped, “right here where anyone could see…you’ll resent me for it.”

“No. Please. I don’t know why I reacted like that. I’m sorry.”

She squeezed Tilly’s hand. “You don’t have to be sorry—I don’t want you to be sorry. It’s just…you’re not ready for this, Til. And it’s not your fault. But we can’t start this if you’re ashamed.”

“I’m not ashamed,” she said, too quickly. “And I’m only staying on Lords until the end of January. I’m going back to the city. I’ve already started looking for a rental—”

“Right. That’s great. It is. I just, I think…I think that, before things get messy, we should take some time apart. Do this right. You can figure out what it is you’re feeling, what it is you want—”

“You think I’m repressed.” Tilly’s eyes glistened.

“No,” she said instantly. Hesitated. “Yes.” She swallowed. “I can’t be the only reason, Til. We need time apart, for you to be sure. My sister is a few weeks off her due date and I’ll be tied up at home…”

Tilly’s eyes searched Kate’s.

Her mouth grew dry. “What?” she asked.

“Are you seeing somebody?”

Kate fixed her with a stare. “No, of course I’m—”

“Good.”

At Tilly’s immediate response, a rush of satisfaction spiked in Kate’s blood. To know that Tilly was jealous? To see possessiveness etched so plainly on her face? It was intoxicating.

Tilly crossed her legs. “How much time do you think it will take?”

“I don’t know, Til. Maybe a few months…”

“Months?” Tilly’s hand twitched in Kate’s, but she didn’t argue, and for that, Kate was glad.

“Yeah,” Kate said hoarsely. “It’s not that long, not really…I’ll start a new job, hopefully, and you’ll be off Lords, finishing your book…back at St. Matthew’s…”

Tilly’s gaze bore into her own, destitute. “What if you meet somebody in the meantime?” She leaned forward. “A woman who’s ready for somebody like you.”

The idea was almost comical. “Trust me, I’m not going to meet anybody.”

“You don’t know that.”

Her chest ached as she watched Tilly bite at the perfect swell of her bottom lip. “But I do.”

Tilly’s stare was intense. “You left linen in the cottage—the afghan quilt and a few pillowcases.” The attempt was needy, suggestive. “Come by to pick it up sometime next week. We can have dinner—think about if we really need so much time.”

Instantly, she shook her head. If she was alone with Tilly in the cottage again, surrounded by the memories of everything they’d shared together in that perfect little space, she’d lose her damn mind—and the willpower to resist temptation. Couldn’t Tilly understand that she was doing this for Tilly? For them? “I think it’s best that you be by yourself for a bit.”