Free Seven Days to Forever by Ingrid Weaver

He’d been almost out the door. Now that she’d explained her absence to her mother, the last loose end had been tied up and he was free to get on with the mission.
    But there was no way he could walk away from that alluring tilt of her mouth.
    Oh, what the hell. They’d never see each other again, anyway, so what harm would there be if he indulged himself before he left? Besides, after what she’d gone through tonight, she looked like she could use a kiss. He crooked his finger to tip her chin upward and lowered his head.
    The contact jolted him. Heat flowed through his veins and stiffened his body. He’d meant to keep this friendly, a casual kiss for an attractive woman, but there was nothing casual about the way he wanted to feel her thighs rub over his hips and her hands reach for his belt buckle and be nowhere near a bike this time.
    Her breath mingled with his—she tasted as good as she smelled. She kissed the same way she smiled, as if there were secrets here only waiting to be discovered. Flynn dipped his tongue past her lips in a bold exploration. She responded with a low sound in her throat that was somewhere between a moan…and a protest.
    Flynn lifted his head. He searched for something clever to say, something that would smooth over the situation, but for the first time he could remember, his usual knack with words had deserted him.
    Abbie pressed her fingertips to her mouth. She seemed as much at a loss as he was.
    He stroked her cheek and tried to smile, but his easy charm had deserted him, too. He didn’t want to smile and he didn’t want to say anything. He wanted to thrust his fingers into her hair, haul her against him and kiss her again. He wanted to stay.
    Flynn turned around and walked to the door. He gripped the knob so tightly the tendons ridged across the back of his hand. “Happy birthday, Abbie,” he said.
    Then he did what he’d done all his life. He left.

Chapter 5
    A bbie didn’t know how she got through the next day. For a while she’d been tempted to play out her excuse of the stomach flu to her principal and spend the day in bed with the covers drawn over her head.
    But hiding wouldn’t do any good. Neither would denial. As much as she’d like to, she couldn’t pretend that the events of yesterday hadn’t occurred. She was as jumpy as a cat in a strange house, startling at every noise or unexpected movement.
    It was a good thing that her students were still tired out from the field trip and didn’t demand her full attention, because she went through her classes in low gear. Several of her friends on the school staff noticed that something was wrong, but she deflected their curiosity by alluding to her birthday, hoping they would assume she had celebrated too heartily.
    The message light on her answering machine was blinking furiously when she arrived home. She dashed across the room, hoping it was good news about the kidnapped child, but none of the messages were from Flynn. Her mother had called twice, offering to bring over ginger ale and rice water, her two surefire remedies for the stomach upsets of Abbie’s childhood. Both Martha and Ellie had called, too, wishing her a belated happy birthday and a speedy recovery. None of them had seemed worried that she hadn’t answered—they’d assumed she had been resting and hadn’t wanted to get up.
    Abbie slumped down in the chair and covered her eyes. This lying business was far too easy to continue once it got started. If she didn’t watch out, she would get as good at it as Flynn.
    If you had a wish, what would you have wanted for your birthday?
    Flynn’s question teased through her mind. She’d known exactly what she wanted. Children, a home, a nice, stable husband. She certainly hadn’t wanted that…kiss.
    She rubbed her face. Now she was even lying to herself.
    Of course she’d wanted that kiss. He was an attractive man, and her emotions had been stirred up because of the excitement of the evening. It was the