Her cheeks flush, and my fingers curl around the doorknob to keep from crossing the room to pull her against me and end this afternoon the way I really want to.

“I was planning a family dinner tonight to celebrate my aunt’s new job, so I’m technically busy.”

“Rain check?”

Whitney’s teeth close over her bottom lip, and there’s nothing I want to do more than tug it free with my own.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea. Maybe . . . maybe we should leave the past in the past.”

The note of uncertainty in her tone gives me hope. I release the handle and step toward her.

“Is that what you really want, Blue?”

The shake of her head is infinitesimal, but it’s all I need. I drop the bag of tacos on the floor and close the distance between us.

I stop six inches away, my heart kicking against my chest, because what happens in the next sixty seconds can change the course of the future I’ve always wanted.

“We both know I don’t deserve another chance to hurt you, just like you said. If you give me one more opportunity, I vow on my father’s grave that I won’t make the same mistakes I did before. I can be the man you need me to be.”

Her lashes lift, and her blue gaze is still uncertain. “Magnus told me I need to make different mistakes this time around. I don’t know if this is what he meant, though.”

She reaches out with both hands and clutches my shoulders, pulling me toward her until my lips crush against hers. I let her take what she needs from me, meeting her halfway, but don’t steal control of the kiss. Blood roars in my head before diving straight to my crotch.

No woman has ever affected me like Whitney Gable. Not before. Not since.

Through it all, I keep my hands at my sides, because a single movement from me would end with us both naked on every flat surface in this room.

She finally pulls away. “You can take me to dinner later this week, but only if Cricket and her fiancé can come too.”

I force my expression to stay neutral instead of grinning. Maybe other men would be annoyed, but I’m not. I’ll take small victories whenever I can get them.

Whitney not wanting to be alone with me? That’s all the proof I need to know that she’s no more ready to leave us in the past than I am.

“I’ll talk to Hunter.”

Whitney inclines her head with a regal nod, and I return to the door, pick up the bag I dropped, and let myself out.

Twenty-Two

Whitney

As soon as the door closes, I take two steps toward the sofa and plop on the luxurious cushions. My head drops back, and I stare at the ornate coffered ceiling.

I kissed him.

I kissed him and held on to my pride and my dignity and the upper hand.