Page 14 of Startup Fire

He reached for her, one hand cupping the back of her neck, the other sliding around her waist. For one heartbeat, he gave her a chance to pull away.

Instead, Jess surged up on her toes and kissed him.

It was like touching fire. Her lips were soft but demanding, her hands fisting in his t-shirt, pulling him closer. Wayne backed her against his workbench, deepening the kiss, tasting her gasp as his hands tightened on her waist.

She was all heat and want and yielding softness, and Wayne couldn't think of anything except the way she responded to his touch, arching into him, making these small sounds that were driving him crazy.

His hand slid up under her tank top, finding bare skin. Jess's fingers tangled in his hair, tugging. The workbench was solid at her back, and Wayne lifted her onto it without breaking the kiss, stepping between her legs.

“Wayne.” She breathed his name against his mouth, and something in his chest cracked wide open.

This was everything. She was everything.

Reality crashed back in.

What was he doing?

This was happening too fast. Too intense. The kind of connection that made you think it was different this time—right before it all fell apart.

Amanda had once kissed him like this too. Had fit against him just as perfectly. Had made him believe he was enough.

Until he wasn't.

Wayne pulled back so abruptly that Jess nearly fell forward. He caught her, steadied her, before putting distance between them again.

“I'm sorry.” The words came out harsh. “That shouldn't have happened.”

Jess stared at him, lips swollen, eyes dark and confused. “What? Why?”

“This is—you're here for workspace. I shouldn't have—we can't—” He was making a mess of this. “I'm sorry.”

Her expression shifted from confusion to hurt to something harder. “Right.” She slid off the workbench, straightening her clothes with sharp movements. “Of course. My mistake.”

“Jess—”

“No, you're right. Bad idea. Complicates things.” Her voice was brittle, fake-bright. “Let's just forget it happened.”

She grabbed her bag and headed for the door before Wayne could find words.

“I'll be back tomorrow,” she called over her shoulder. “For the demonstration practice. Professional only. Don't worry.”

The barn door slammed.

Wayne stood alone, surrounded by the lingering scent of her shampoo and the taste of her still on his lips.

He'd done the right thing. Pulled back before things got messy. Before he could get attached, before she could realize he wasn't worth the trouble.

He'd protected them both.

So why did it feel like he'd just made the biggest mistake of his life?