“They don’t have to be.” He needed them not to be. He needed to put about six feet between them so he couldn’t see the flecks of gold in her brown eyes or the sheen of uncolored gloss on her lips. So he couldn’t extend his arm, touch her, pull her closer the way he was dying to.

“I call bullshit.” She stood up straighter, lifted her chin. “I had fun with you, liked being with you. And then later, with your mom—”

“I’m sorry you had to deal with that. I should’ve driven myself.”

“Stop it. You needed a friend. I’m glad I was there. Glad I got to meet your family that I didn’t know existed.” Her lips quirked up, eyes sparked with a hint of teasing, then she went serious again. “I get the impression you don’t let a lot of people in, but guess what? I’m in. We’re friends. No going back.”

He didn’t know much about friends, didn’t really have any, but this didn’t feel quite like friends. Not the way his blood was pounding through him.

Sierra’s gaze slipped downward, to his lips, and she moved closer, mere inches away, those doe eyes locked to his again. He couldn’t get himself to look away, couldn’t break the sudden connection.

He dropped his arms to his sides, gripped the table behind him, fighting not to touch her or put a hand at her waist or brush that stray lock of hair from her cheek.

A heartbeat later, she closed the rest of the space between them, grasped his upper arm, and pressed her lips to his.

He froze. For a split second, his brain said no, but then the synapses connected and he received the message from his lips, and everything in him said hell yes.

He couldn’t stop himself from gripping her hip, holding her to his body as he soaked up the feel of her lips on his—soft, pliant, feminine but unwavering.

She let out a sexy satisfied moan, and her hand landed on his chest, gripped his T-shirt, pulled at him. Instinct and need had him taking it deeper, sliding his tongue over her lips until she opened to him, let him in, and he lost all ability for rational thought.

She tasted of coffee and mint, smelled of oranges, felt diminutive and feminine as his hands landed on her lower back, pulling her into his body, showing her he was hard as a steel beam. She moved her hands to his neck, one of them roving over the back of his head, her fingers digging into him, as if she couldn’t stand the thought of letting him go, letting this end.