“I know that sounds dramatic.” Gina could read in Kirk’s face that he thought so, too. “And I am dramatic. It’s a Moretti thing. But I’m not exaggerating this time.”
She shoved aside her bottle, slid off the bench and began pacing around the kitchen, twisting her hands together. “I’ve never told anyone about this. You have to promise to keep it to yourself.”
Kirk put his hands together and gave a little bow. It landed somewhere between awkward and endearing, and put her at ease. “Absolutely.”
She drew in a long breath. Once she shared this story with Kirk, any potential attraction-s***h-relationship-s***h-Loon Feather-dinner-date would be over. He’d either feel sorry for her or scornful; either one of those options would kill their chemistry dead.
Shit. Of all people, why did her best
