I am not going to kiss Jem. I am not going to kiss Jem.
Natalie repeated the mantra to herself as she took the steps up to Jem’s apartment two at a time on Monday morning.
What had gotten into her yesterday? She and Jem weren’t even dating. He’d decided he didn’t want to marry her anymore, he’d left, and no amount of comforting hugs or even smoking-hot kisses could fix the hurt that’d caused.
She stood in the corridor and rapped on his door, rearranging her features into a neutral expression. The itchy tag of her most unflattering shirt—brown with a cartoon frog on the front—scratched against her skin. But the wardrobe was strategic. She had to get her head on straight.
The door opened. Jem stepped through it, caught her in his arms, and kissed her thoroughly.
Natalie slid her hands along his jaw and kissed him right back. Seven years had done nothing to dull the heat between them.
Whoops. She had to stop—in exactly five seconds. She leaned against him, fingers brushing the hair at the nape of his neck. Four . . . three . . . two . . .
Okay, maybe ten seconds.
A floorboard creaked to their left. Natalie jerked back. No one came. False alarm. Still, she pulled Jem’s hands from her waist and stepped back. “I—That—I’m not doing this.”
Jem quirked an eyebrow. “Kinda seems like you are.”
Hands on her hips, she drew in a deep breath. “Momentary insanity. Nothing’s changed. And this”—she pointed between them—“isn’t happening again.” She pointed to his bruised cheekbone and changed the topic. “How are you going to explain these bruises at work?”
After three days, the marks from his sparring bout with John still hadn’t faded. When she’d suggested he try foundation yesterday, he’d squirted her with Olly’s bathwater.
“I’ll say I was in a bar fight. I need to increase my street cred.”
Despite herself, Natalie smirked.
He leaned closer. “And nice try, but I’m still not distracted.”
“Jem? Are you ready to go?” Lili’s voice sounded from inside the apartment.
He groaned.
Natalie stepped farther away. “This isn’t happening. And it’s time to get to work.”
Lili shuffled out the door, eyes half closed and bag on her back.
Natalie caught Jem’s sleeve as he moved to follow his niece. “Don’t forget, this weekend is the Wildfire festival, so I can’t work on Friday. We have to set up for it. You told me to remind you at the start of the week.” Even though she’d already told him a bunch of times.
He dropped a lid in a saucy wink. “I’ll put it in my calendar.” He blew a kiss, then followed Lili.
Natalie faced the open apartment door, rolled her eyes at her lack of willpower, then smiled at Olly in his high chair. Yes, it was time for work.
The rest of her day whizzed by as she did not watch the clock and count the seconds.
At 9:27 she finished changing the Wildfire advertisements for radio and print.
At 10:56 she lost three out of five crawling races against Olly.
At 11:39 she pressed Save on the festival schedule.
At 12:01 she pulled the clock off the wall and hid it in the fridge.
The rest of the afternoon was a flurry of activity as she prepared dinner, fed Olly, and helped Lili with math homework. Technically she didn’t have to stay past 3:30 p.m., but the free Wi-Fi and food lived here. The least she could do was cook.
Steph called at five o’clock. “Nat, I’ve got a chance for you to score some points against Kimberly.”
Natalie grimaced as she held the cell between her shoulder and ear and lifted a pot of water for spaghetti onto the stove. Not tonight. She’d been unable to sleep last night, emotionally disturbed due to recent events involving Jem and his lips. Plus, Steph had a bad habit of calling her last minute to work that night. Is this how it would be in the full-time position?
“Kimberly’s come down with the flu, and she was meant to prep Sam’s PowerPoints for his three school talks tomorrow. I didn’t get to it today. Could you whip them up tonight?” Papers rustled. “He’s giving another four during the week. Maybe while you’re at it you could get them sorted too.”
Natalie rubbed her forehead. She’d worked hours well above her internship commitment last week and had been up early this morning completing today’s allotted jobs. She recalled the presentations she’d seen Sam give. “He doesn’t always use a slideshow, does he?”
Steph hesitated. “He doesn’t have to. We’re just trying to put across a more professional appearance.”
Natalie dug deep. “I’ve got commitments tonight, sorry.” A commitment to eat her dinner and get some sleep. “I can do the rest of the week’s presentations tomorrow, but I can’t do tonight.”
“O-kay.” Steph drew the word out. “But Kimberly’s really impressing the board. Don’t give up too many of these opportunities.” A meaningful pause. She probably expected Natalie to cave, like she always did.
Natalie pressed her nails into her palm. “See you tomorrow.” She hung up and let out a breath. She’d done it. She’d said no.
Fifteen minutes later, she was shaking her hips to the sound of Lili’s stereo as the pot of spaghetti boiled on the stove. She sang into a spatula, then pointed it toward Olly in his high chair. “Now clap your hands.”
Lili clapped Olly’s hands above his head as Natalie executed her best Beyoncé dance imitation.
The door flew open behind her.
“Uncle Jem!”
Natalie whirled around, midshimmy.
Jem stood framed by the doorway, shirt untucked. He grinned. “Don’t stop because of me.”
She hit the volume button on the stereo. “I didn’t think you’d be home for another hour.”
“I worked through lunch and took off early.”
“That sounds awful.” By Lili’s expression, she couldn’t comprehend skipping a lunchtime.
“I was motivated.” Jem shot Natalie a meaningful smile, then plucked Oliver from his chair and kissed his cheek. “How’s my favorite little man?”
Lili chattered to Jem about her day, and Natalie paused her spaghetti stirring to take in the picture. Jem, his collar unbuttoned and sleeves rolled to the elbow. Olly chanting “Da-da” and grabbing for Jem’s cheek. Lili laughing at something Jem said.
Natalie pressed her lips together. Staying had been a tactical mistake. One she knew better than to make. Yet she wasn’t walking out the door.
She was still staring at the trio when Lili’s words penetrated her consciousness.
“I’ve got more homework to do.” Lili disappeared into her room.
Jem caught Natalie’s eye as he returned Olly to his high chair. A slow smile stretched across his lips as he strolled toward her.
She pointed the spatula at him. “Nu-uh. We talked about this.”
He halted his advance. “Why’re you here, then?”
“Free Wi-Fi.”
“Are you working tonight?”
She hesitated. “No.”
He smiled.
She tried again. “Free food.”
“Try to sound convincing when you say it.” He stepped forward and slipped his hands around her waist.
She didn’t pull away. “We’re not . . .” The words faded away as he trailed kisses from her cheek to the corner of her mouth. Her eyes slid shut. Traitors.
During her seven kiss-less years, how many times had she fantasized about feeling this way again? Wanted. Valued. Enough. She forced her eyelids to open. “I didn’t think about you all day.” A blatant lie if there ever was one.
A wicked gleam lit his eyes. “Guess I’ll have to give you something to ponder.” He lowered his head.
His kiss was slow and tender and left her wanting more. He rested his forehead against hers and smiled at her.
She was only human. She pulled his head back down and gave him something to think about.
Jem’s hands were making a mess of her hair when two sounds registered in Natalie’s brain.
The hiss of the spaghetti water overflowing its boundaries. And a sharp rap at the door.
“I’ll get the pot.”
“I’ll get the door.”
They spoke at the same time. Jem rescued the pot—he was a better cook than she was—while she opened the door.
A blonde woman with a figure Natalie could only dream of looked down at her from atop five-inch black pumps. She twisted a Louis Vuitton purse in her hands, damp marks scarring the expensive fabric.
“Can I help you?”
“Is this the home of Jeremy Walters?”
Jem’s footsteps approached from behind. “Chloe?”