If Xander’s brain hadn’t been completely scrambled, he might’ve remembered to get his coat back from Kennedy before he’d shoved her into the house. But it had taken every last shred of control he possessed to actually let her go instead of dragging her upstairs or to the barn or into the back of his Bronco or pretty much the nearest horizontal surface, so his coat—and the work keys in its pocket—were still with her. Which was his only excuse for showing back up at the Reynolds house an hour later, after a hurried shower and change of clothes. Well, and he already wanted to see her again.
It had felt like they were finally on the same page when he left her. But that might’ve been the kiss. Before she’d come back to the Ridge, he’d told himself it would be enough to apologize and be forgive
