His Forbidden Kiss. Jessica Lemmon

ever notice her.

      She recalled the silky softness on her fingers when she raked them into his hair. She’d wanted to climb that wall of masculinity to the summit. He’d been a perplexing mix of rigid and pliant during that kiss. Unraveling his straight-edged spine sent a zing of pleasure through her that hummed inside of her still. Had she seen him come unglued before last weekend? She didn’t think so.

      “I need to talk to Brannon,” she told her mother. She’d been saying that a lot lately—to others and to herself. “Royce and Brannon were glaring at each other in a meeting today and I can’t help thinking that’s my fault.”

      Royce had been distracted in the financial meeting, and she’d bet she could also take credit for that. He’d been far from flustered, but when his eyebrows carved a deep line in his forehead, she’d read his expression as easily as she had his email. He needed help. So, she bailed him out.

      “Brannon was out of line. You two are cute together, but marriage?” Deena shook her head. “I love that boy, I do. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying Royce is the one for you, but darling, you’re not married. You’re certainly not engaged. You weren’t anything when you shared that kiss except for curious.”

      And turned on, but that was too crass to mention.

      “You’re right.”

      “Perhaps the near-miss engagement is making you think about having a family. You’re healing from losing your father. It’s normal for your thoughts to turn inward.”

      “Coffee with the widow’s group is helping.” Taylor loved her mother but even Deena would be the first to admit that she’d never been what anyone would call “introspective.”

      “They’re a lifeline. As far as your own future, don’t pressure yourself. You love to do that, and I can tell you’re trying to plot and plan. Let the future unfold on its own instead. See how that goes.”

      Easy for Deena to say. She loved to go with the flow. Taylor preferred directing the flow whenever possible.

      “Who do you think Jack will name as his new CEO?” Deena propped her elbow on the table, wine in hand.

      “Not Gia. She never wanted to run that company.”

      “Smart girl.” Deena smirked. “I imagine it’ll be Royce, don’t you?”

      “I could see either of them as CEO, but Royce’s being older could be an advantage.”

      “Maybe Jack will name you.”

      “No.” Taylor held out a hand like a stop sign. “I like my inherited position. It suits me. Plus, I like to think that I’m making Dad proud.” She was going to say more but a lump in her throat stymied the words.

      “Oh, honey.” Her mother gave her a quick hug before bending over the table to address her quietly. “He’s so proud. I know it. Charles always talked about how you’re his legacy, Tay. You’re like him in all the right ways. None of my underachiever tendencies. If you had a craft room filled with art supplies, you’d have a million-dollar business behind it. I just give them away.” She smiled, though, knowing it wasn’t a fault but simply the way she was. “When you’re ready to start a family—no matter who you start one with—you’ll succeed. Plenty of time for that, though.”

      “Thanks, Mom.” Deena Thompson always said the right thing.

      “I have a craft room to retire to and I know you’re not interested in spending the entire evening with me. I suspect you have work to do even after eight o’clock?”

      “You know me well.” Taylor was looking forward to it, though. Her laptop was a comfort.

      Her mother left the room, Rolf at her heels.

      On the drive home, Taylor thought of Royce and what he was doing tonight. If he was home answering emails or tinkering with a spreadsheet. Had he thought of her since the kiss?

      He would have had to... Wouldn’t he?