But his teasing question did the trick, and she opened her eyes. He got his way. She was looking at him. And what she witnessed had her knees buckling. His green eyes held a gentle warmth and conveyed an intense longing she hadn’t believed existed.
“I got you,” he said with a firm but tender voice, instinctively knowing to hold her tighter to keep her from sinking with the weight of all the emotions she was experiencing. “And I do want to kiss you.”
“You do?” Dumb question. But she wanted to hear him say it again.
His lips crooked into a semi-smile as he brought his hand from beneath her chin to cup her cheek. “I really, really do.” He lowered his head, prepared to do exactly what he said he wanted to do, but the sound of chirping, or a ring of sorts, had him stopping just shy of kissing her.
“Is that your team?” she whispered, his warm palm still on her cheek, his mouth hovering an inch from hers.
“Yes, but—”
“We shouldn’t make them wait.” With a sigh, he set his forehead to hers.
She wanted his kiss. His touch. But he needed to hear the truth first. Their kiss had to be pure and innocent. No guilt clawing at her. She would do things differently this time.
He leaned back, his hand falling from her face, a flood of disappointment in his eyes. It was a painful sight to see.
Ana set a hand over his palm on her hip the moment he’d started to turn, stopping him. “A.J.?”
“Yeah?” he mouthed as if it was too difficult to use his voice.
“Just so you know, I really wanted to kiss you, too.”
Chapter Sixteen
Ana eased into the big leather chair in front of the oak desk in Grant’s first-floor office, which was one room down from the kitchen.
Her head was still in the clouds from the intense near-kiss moment they’d shared a few minutes ago. She wasn’t prepared for a video-call with A.J.’s teammates, but she’d need to put her game face on and transition back to FBI-mode.
A.J. wasn’t making it easy, though. They’d missed Jessica’s call, so A.J. was presently standing as close to her as a tick on a dog—and, Alabama was indeed doing “its thing” to her, as A.J. suggested. He leaned forward to access the keyboard, his tee stretching taut and putting his back muscles on display. That, combined with the fabric straining around his powerful bicep as one hand braced on the desk for support, was making Ana lose focus.
He tossed a quick look at her from over his shoulder, thoughts of what he wished had happened in that kitchen clear in his thoughtful expression.
The hum of their intense chemistry vibrated between them, and she fidgeted with her braid to prevent herself from doing something crazy. Like snatching his shirt and tugging him around to face her. Instructing him to drop to his knees and go down on her right there at the desk.
What happened to me? She blinked and noticed A.J.’s eyes locked on her shirt. His gaze was heated as if he were imagining taking her nipple between his teeth and lightly biting.
The cotton fabric of her shirt was still wet, and A.J. lifted his chin, sending a silent warning that her nipple was still quite visible.
Right. Asher and Jessica would be on the video call.
She adjusted her shirt to ensure there was no nipple action but crossed her arms just in case. Better to be safe than sorry.
Her thoughts whirled back to their moment in the kitchen, and— “You turned off the oven, right?” she blurted.
“Yeah, guess dinner will have to wait,” he said softly and pushed upright to a standing position once Asher filled the screen.
“Hey, guys,” Asher said around a yawn. The loose-fitting black tank he was wearing showcased his muscular arms, each one currently cradling a daughter. His hair was longer than the last time she’d seen him as it was now up in a messy man bun.
“Hey, man,” A.J. commented, arms folding as he stood alongside her chair.
“Congratulations,” Ana said with a smile. “Beautiful.”
Asher lowered his attention to his daughters. “Juliana and Arabella, this is Special Agent Anastasia Quinn, can you say hi?” He gently rocked back and forth in the desk chair, a view of Manhattan outside the window behind him.
“They might have Jessica’s brains and good looks, thank God,” A.J. teased, “but I doubt they can wave or talk at three months old.”