Free Beyond Repair by Kelly Lincoln Page A

teach her how to kick ass in them. “Mia, I’m surprised at you. You take karate. You should have given that snake a roundhouse kick and knocked him right over.”
    Her mouth dropped open. “You and Uncle Kyle said I can only do roundhouse kicks in karate.”
    “Well, I give you permission to use roundhouse kicks in your bad dreams. If anyone or anything bothers you, then you use all of your karate moves on them. And since I know some too, you can have me help you. Sound like a plan?”
    “Sounds like a plan.” She looked way too happy for a kid who’d just had a nightmare. “I hope that snake comes back. I’m going to get him.”
    “That’s my girl.” I moved away so she could lie down, and then I arranged the covers over her. “Remember though, only in dreams. You are not allowed to use karate at school.”
    Mia hugged her stuffed giraffe. “Mom?”
    “Yes?”
    “There is a bubble in my throat.”
    A bubble? I tried not to laugh as I picked up a bottle of water on her nightstand. “Have a drink. That should help.”
    Mia sat up and took long sips of the water. “Better?” I asked, taking it from her.
    “Yup.”
    “Great.” I leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Love you.”
    She smiled at me. “I know. I love you, too.”
    “I know. Good night, sweetie.”
    “Mmmhmm …” Her eyes were already drifting shut.
    I left the room, softly closing the door behind me.
    Downstairs, my phone had a text:
    Chris: Is Mia okay?
    Brooke: She’s fine, thanks. Back asleep already.
    After replying, I debated asking him how he was doing. But before I could decide, my phone buzzed again.
    Chris: It’s me.
    I stared at my phone in confusion as the sound of a knock broke the silence in the room. Still holding my phone, I stood up.
    Not sure what to expect from Chris when I opened the door, I walked into the kitchen and paused with my hand on the doorknob, hesitating for a minute. I hadn’t imagined what happened before. He’d almost kissed me. I didn’t know if he was coming back to talk about that or … his credit card. Of course. I had put it in my pocket as we walked in, forgetting to give it back to him.
    I pulled the plastic out of my pocket and opened the door. Chris stood on my doorstep, his eyes restless as clutched his phone.
    “Hey,” I said, holding up the credit card. “Did you come back for—”
    I didn’t finish my question. As I spoke, Chris took two big steps inside. He cupped my face in his hands, still holding his phone. “No,” he muttered and crashed his lips against mine.
    Holy shit. I stood frozen, gripping my phone in one hand and his credit card in the other. But then the reality of what was happening sunk in. Chris’s warm mouth was against mine, his tongue brushing against my closed lips, andI was standing still like a dumbass and not kissing him back.
    Before my brain could tell my mouth to start working, he broke away. “Brooke,” he whispered. His lips brushed against mine as he spoke, sending electric shocks throughout my body.
    He backed up, hands still cradling my chin, his phone smashed against my face as his eyes locked with mine, waiting for my reaction. Not breaking eye contact, I placed my phone and his credit card on a small table next to the door. Reaching up, I pried his phone out from between his hand and my chin, and laid it on the table as well.
    Then I sprang up on my tiptoes, grasped his shoulders for leverage, and pulled him back to me.
    Our lips met aggressively, but he eased back after a moment, slowly moving his mouth against mine. His calloused fingers moved back and forth in featherlight motions against my jaw, and I trembled. It had been so long, and this was way better than anything I ever remembered.
    My lips parted, and I softened my mouth to kiss him back, my eyes sinking shut as our tongues slid against each other. My hands found their way to the back of his neck as I pulled him closer, not wanting him to leave me ever again. He groaned into my