The heat between them was incredible. She ran her hands over his back, following each segment of his spine and curving muscle. He began to stroke her, too: the curve of her hip, the dip of her back. He grew hard against her and she pressed against him to let him know, yes, it was OK. But when his hands slid around to her ribs he hovered, hesitating.

She broke the kiss just long enough to say, ‘Yes,’ then his hand slipped onto her breast and both of them groaned in their throats. His hand slipped under her jumper and the T-shirt beneath, then his touch was blazing across skin and inside her bra.

‘You’re so stunning, so sexy,’ he murmured against her mouth. ‘Jeez, Laurel, I’ve wanted this for half my life.’

Laurel’s head tipped back as he caressed the curves of her breasts, the peaks of her nipples, taking his time to learn the feel of her skin. Breathlessly she said, ‘I’m not sure I was ready for this at sixteen.’

‘I was,’ he murmured against her mouth, making her laugh. Then he sighed. ‘This freaking ten o’clock curfew’s on my mind.’ He carried on kissing her but felt for his phone, lifting his head briefly to look at it, and groaning. ‘Nine forty-five.’ Reluctantly, he withdrew from her clothing, smoothing each layer back into place. ‘You’re still coming back?’

‘If you want me to.’ Regretfully, she removed her hands from under his sweatshirt and let it fall back into place.

‘If I wanted it any more, I’d burst into flames.’ The accompanying grin and wink was pure Grady, a welcome replacement for the bleak misery with which he’d greeted her earlier. Laurel wasn’t stupid enough to think that a few kisses and an air of promise would vanquish her problems with his brother but it was a step in the right direction. A declaration that neither of them had caused the problem.

Pulling her winter layers back on took Laurel a lot longer than usual, hampered as she was by deep, distracting kisses.

‘I promise you a better time than standing in my hallway later,’ he said, when she finally zipped up her coat. Then he pulled his coat off the newel.

‘What are you doing?’ she murmured, still kissing his jawline as she pulled on her mittens.

‘I’ll walk you to Zuzanna’s,’ he said, trying to find his sleeve. ‘I need to make certain you come back.’

‘OK.’ She nibbled his neck as she tried to thread her scarf on without losing contact. ‘So why am I kissing you goodbye?’

‘We’re just kissing,’ he said indignantly. ‘We like it, don’t we?’