Crossroads Corner
Camryn paused, eyes widening. “Wait a minute. You don’t believe me. How could I be so stupid? You said it last night--if. If I was telling the truth.”
“I do believe you.” Will reached out to touch her shoulder. She jerked away from his hand. He dropped it to his side, clenching his fingers. “I do. You didn’t have anything to do with the embezzlement, I’m sure of it.”
“Why? Why should you believe me?” she challenged. “We barely know each other.”
“I don’t know why. I just do.” It was something he felt in his bones, something he couldn’t put into words. “I just do,” he repeated, helpless to define it further.
She stared at him. As he watched, the anger seeped from her expression, leaving her face pale, dark circles under tired eyes. “I want to believe you,” she said. “It seems like forever since someone other than my family has trusted me. But I don’t know if I can.”
“Elizabeth believes you,” he said. The last word wasn’t out of his mouth before she was shaking her head.
“Elizabeth’s a defense lawyer. Defense lawyers are paid to believe their clients are innocent. Or, at least, not as guilty as they could be. She doesn’t count.”
What she said was the truth. He searched for a way to prove he believed her. She waited quietly and his heart ached to comfort her.
Slowly he reached out. He lifted her chin. For a moment her eyes remained downcast, then her lids fluttered upward.
He leaned in and kissed her.
Her lips, at first firm and closed, softened, opened. Her breath trembled out, swirling from her mouth to his, warm and sweet. He tasted her sadness, her need, and gathered her in, his arms surrounding her, hoping the press of his body would express what his words hadn’t.
Her hips arched into his as her arms wound around his neck and he felt the pull of desire strike deep. She fit him like water in a glass, filling an emptiness he hadn’t realized consumed him. Their tongues met, darted, teased, their lips separating only long enough to gasp in a breath before connecting once more.
He’d thought to offer comfort, reassurance. Instead he found himself drowning in sensations that had nothing to do with those tepid emotions. He was fire and ice, she was challenge and surrender.
He was lost.
“I do believe you.” Will reached out to touch her shoulder. She jerked away from his hand. He dropped it to his side, clenching his fingers. “I do. You didn’t have anything to do with the embezzlement, I’m sure of it.”
“Why? Why should you believe me?” she challenged. “We barely know each other.”
“I don’t know why. I just do.” It was something he felt in his bones, something he couldn’t put into words. “I just do,” he repeated, helpless to define it further.
She stared at him. As he watched, the anger seeped from her expression, leaving her face pale, dark circles under tired eyes. “I want to believe you,” she said. “It seems like forever since someone other than my family has trusted me. But I don’t know if I can.”
“Elizabeth believes you,” he said. The last word wasn’t out of his mouth before she was shaking her head.
“Elizabeth’s a defense lawyer. Defense lawyers are paid to believe their clients are innocent. Or, at least, not as guilty as they could be. She doesn’t count.”
What she said was the truth. He searched for a way to prove he believed her. She waited quietly and his heart ached to comfort her.
Slowly he reached out. He lifted her chin. For a moment her eyes remained downcast, then her lids fluttered upward.
He leaned in and kissed her.
Her lips, at first firm and closed, softened, opened. Her breath trembled out, swirling from her mouth to his, warm and sweet. He tasted her sadness, her need, and gathered her in, his arms surrounding her, hoping the press of his body would express what his words hadn’t.
Her hips arched into his as her arms wound around his neck and he felt the pull of desire strike deep. She fit him like water in a glass, filling an emptiness he hadn’t realized consumed him. Their tongues met, darted, teased, their lips separating only long enough to gasp in a breath before connecting once more.
He’d thought to offer comfort, reassurance. Instead he found himself drowning in sensations that had nothing to do with those tepid emotions. He was fire and ice, she was challenge and surrender.
He was lost.