Turan Out 78

Jessica was a little nervous. It was winter, and the air outside was cold, yet her palms were already sweaty. 

She stepped closer, cautiously reaching out. Her fingertips brushed against the side of his neck as she tried to fasten the top button. 

It wasn’t that the button didn’t fit. Perhaps it was just her nerves, but even something that simple felt impossible to do all of a sudden. 

She inched in, tilting her head slightly, leaning closer to his neck. Warm breath spilled across his skin, and wherever it touched, a faint blush followed. 

Jessica’s soft fingers could feel the subtle movement of his Adam’s apple and the rise and fall of his chest beneath the fabric with every slow breath he took. 

The second her hand brushed against him, she could feel how firm his skin was. 

Zachary let out a low chuckle and rested one hand lightly at her waist. It was a dangerously intimate position, and with just the smallest pull, she would be fully in his arms. 

Lunch might just have to wait. 

Jessica’s body stiffened. “Is it too tight?” 

Her voice brushed against his ear, stirring something deep within him. 

“No. I just wanted my wife to give me a hand.” Zachary blurted his truest feelings without 

hesitation. 

She had just finished buttoning up his shirt when she caught the gentle yet mischievous look in his eyes. He was only messing with her. 

His gaze burned into her, intense and unwavering. “Is that okay?” 

Jessica’s face was beet red. Without makeup, her skin looked even more translucent. Those soft pink lips of hers, reminiscent of a forbidden fruit, were almost too impossible to ignore. 

Zachary handed her the tie. 

Then, as if under some kind of spell, Jessica took it from him. “Yeah…” 

He chuckled as Jessica clutched the tie and snapped out of it, hoping to calm her racing heart. 

“What made you want to make me clothes?” he asked. 

Seeing how flustered she was, Zachary threw the question out to ease the tension. He knew she had always enjoyed the push–and–pull effect. 

Chaple 

Sure enough, Jessica took a few small steps forward and stopped before him. 

“I’ve ripped too many of your shirts, and I feel bad about it. I figured I should pay you back somehow,” she muttered, bending one knee on the edge of the couch by his leg while the other foot slid in between his legs. 

What a dangerous move. 

Zachary’s gaze dimmed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. He asked hoarsely, ” Did you, well, make these yourself?” 

He had spotted a tiny tulip embroidered just below the collar–her favorite flower. 

“Yeah,” Jessica replied, nodding shyly. 

She gently flipped the collar up to show her signature embroidery. Her warm fingertips brushed against his skin, sparking currents through him. 

Zachary never once took his eyes off her. He watched her blush deepen from a soft pink to a full–on flush. 

“I think you’re falling for me, Mrs. Jones.” 

His blunt words gave her nowhere to hide. Her hand jerked nervously, yanking the tie tight 

around his neck. 

A deep grunt slipped from his throat, and she quickly loosened the tie. “No, I’m not.” 

“It’s okay. I’ll try harder, then.” 

A rush of heat traveled up from his chest through her fingertips, almost like a jolt of electricity. She gently adjusted his collar, then stepped back. 

So, did he turn her down the other night because she hadn’t fallen for him yet? 

Jessica bit her bottom lip, lowering her gaze. How was she supposed to develop feelings for him if he was never home? 

Of course, she didn’t dare say that aloud. Instead, she whispered, “I’ll try to open up my heart 

to you as well.” 

Zachary stiffened. For a second, he thought he had misheard her. 

“Let’s go.” 

She awkwardly grabbed her bag from the couch and headed for the door. 

Zachary picked up his wool coat, trailing behind her with a smile that was almost too innocent -looking for his age. 

“Jessica,” he called softly, catching her by the wrist. 

She stopped in her tracks, startled, and turned to look at him. “Yeah?”