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Chapter 32

After lunch, Chance and I went and hung a second sheet over all the common area windows to try to keep that biting cold out.

In a conference room, I climbed a stepladder before lifting a sheet above my head and trying to tack it in at the same time.

Heat gripped the sides of my waist.

My movements stuttered before I forced myself to keep going. Chance held firm to me, but those damn thumbs of his grazed up and down my back in slow, measured strokes.

Fire flickered to life in that low, sweet spot. My stomach fluttered, and I struggled to breathe. Oh my.

Chance and I spoke little when we were together. We both seemed to like the comfortable silence between us. But every time his hand grazed mine, or when he put his hands on me like this, he was communicating. And my whole body was responding.