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wasn’t room in his life for a smile like that.
    “Cal,” she whispered, and he realized his eyes were back on her lips.
    “Yeah?” He threaded his free hand through her hair. It was silky and a little damp and felt amazing.
    “I bake, too,” she said.
    He blinked. Twice. “What?”
    “I bake,” she repeated. Her breath was warm on his lips, and she smelled of vanilla and hazelnut and all things delectable. “I bake and I quilt and I like to garden. And thanks for saving me…” She leaned up and gently pressed her warm lips to his cheek and whispered a broken, “Again.”
    She reached for the door, but before she could open it, Cal leaned forward. “Glory—”
    She turned back to face him and whatever the hell he’d been about to say died because her mouth was right there, aligned perfectly with his. All he had to do was lean forward a smidge, and—
    Sweet baby Jesus , her lips parted on a breath and he watched the pulse in the base of her neck quicken. She knew exactly what he was thinking, indecision playing out in those expressive eyes, and his heart literally tripped.
    He should leave. Leave her and this stupid idea and—
    Her eyes dropped to his mouth.
    That was all the welcome he needed. He cupped her face and kissed her. He kept it gentle, brushing her upper lip and finally delivering little nibbles to that lush, plump lower one that had been driving him crazy for years. Her mouth was soft and warm and so damn sweet a jolt of heat shot straight through him, warming up the car and making him want to strip off his clothes—then hers.
    He pulled back, his hand was gripping the back of her neck. When her lashes finally lifted, her eyes were dazed and hungry and he knew he had to get out of there.
    With one last brush of their lips, he whispered, “Thank you.” Her eyes narrowed in confusion. Welcome to it, he thought, since she’d been screwing with his brain all morning. “For taking the time to talk with Payton. About school.”
    “I like talking to her, she’s a great kid,” she whispered, then looked him dead in the eye and, as if knowing exactly what he needed right then, said, “And you’re a great dad.”
    He gave a single nod, not as confident as he’d have liked. “I have my moments. But lately I feel like it’s more misses than hits with her,” he said, surprised at his admission, even more surprised that he wanted to keep talking. To her. It was wild—talking to Glory about his life felt easy.
    “You love her, that’s all that matters,” she said with so much confidence he had to check himself. She had been covered in cow shit, falsely arrested, and yet she refused to give in to the unfairness of it all, instead offering him sweet words in a moment when he really needed them. “Most girls dream about having a dad like you.”
    Her voice cracked on the last few words, reminding him that growing up, she was one of those girls.
    With a shaky smile, Cal watched her scurry out of the car and up the steps, his hat planted firmly on her head and his eyes planted firmly on the sway of her ass. His phone started buzzing, but Cal ignored it, ignored the fact that she was already inside and that he was sitting there idling in her driveway like an idiot.
    What he couldn’t ignore was that a night with her would be the worst decision he could make since Tawny—or that out of all the women in this goddamned state, he had to feel that undeniable, sexual pull with this one.

Chapter 4
    T o keep her mind off Cal, Glory took a shower. A hot one. But when all the not thinking about Cal turned into thinking about Cal’s mouth—on hers—she switched to a cold one. It didn’t help.
    Who knew Cal could kiss like that? That he could kiss her like that? Besides their lips and his hand gently cupping her face, he hadn’t really touched her at all, and yet she felt him everywhere. Still could.
    She let out a breath and grabbed the meatloaf and a crockpot of low-sodium chili she’d made for her