“Wait.”
He turned. “What?”
Daisy shrugged out of the jacket she was wearing. “Your jacket.”
“Keep it.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Just until next time.”
Until next time.
Why did those words both thrill and sadden her?
Because she didn’t want next time. She wanted right now.
“Jamie?”
“Yes?”
She bit her lip. “I’m glad you and Colin are different people.”
He grinned. “You and me both.”
She sidled closer. “And I...I forgive you for posing as him.”
“Good,” he said, and Daisy focused on his lips—such nice lips—as he spoke. “But I’m not sorry I did it. Not one bit.”
She raised her gaze to his. “Me, neither,” she said softly, resting her hands on his shoulders.
When he spoke next, the words seemed to come out of his mouth in slow motion. “Can I see you Monday?”
“Monday?” The word emerged, a tangible thing that Daisy could have touched if she wanted to.
“Yes.” The single syllable seemed to stretch on forever.
Why was everything moving so slowly? Daisy leaned down. “Monday would be nice.” She slid her hand to his chest, needing to feel the rumble of his deep voice within. Needing—
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