A hundred little things could have happened to change the result. She could have been one of the victims bleeding out on the floor. Realizing that sent a slicing pain through him. Made him hold her a little tighter. Had him rethinking how long he would spend on Whitaker and how hard it would be to leave her. He wasn’t a long-distance guy. For years he hadn’t been a relationship-of-any-type guy. He had no intention of changing that . . . Then he met her.

She lifted her head and he kissed her. A slow brushing kiss that burned him from the inside out. One led to another. Then to a third. Their mouths traveled over each other, heated and full of need.

That fast, he morphed from wanting to give comfort to wanting her naked. His hands skimmed up her back, over her shirt. He might have pulled back and taken a break tonight, but her fingers danced over his face to the back of his neck.

When she pulled him in tighter, he gasped.

When she crawled on top of him and straddled his hips, he almost lost it.

Her tongue traced over his ear as she whispered, “Bedroom.”

Heat surged through him at the suggestion but he’d never make it that far. He was too primed. Too caught up in wanting her. “Couch.”

“Excellent suggestion.” Excitement shone in her eyes.

One hand slipped down to her ass and pulled her body tighter against his. The snug fit of his growing bulge between her thighs had his head spinning in the best possible way.

“You have too much clothing on,” she said as she tugged at the bottom of his sweater.

“We should fix that.”

With each yank, she kissed him. She’d pull, then lean down and press her mouth against his. Let him feel the excitement thrumming through her. She kept bunching and pulling until she exposed his stomach and chest. The kissing changed then. The mood shifted and the touching became less controlled.

Her tongue licked against his nipple, then traveled lower. Just as his head fell back against the couch cushion, her doorbell buzzed.

Fuck no.

“Ugh. Not now.” She collapsed against him.

“Ignore it.” He heard the desperation in his voice and didn’t care.

“It could be Ben.”

“Definitely ignore it.”

Knocking started next. He felt her shift to the side and knew he’d lost this round. “The person on the other side of that door better be holding apology cake.”

She lifted off him and straightened her clothing. “It was pie.”

“It worked.”

She smiled at him over her shoulder as she walked to the door. “Apparently. Fix your shirt.”

He could admit defeat. “Fine.”

She glanced out the peephole. When she looked his way again, she winced.

“You are not going to like this.” She had the locks open and was ushering Evan in the door before Connor got off the couch.