At the touch of Joe’s mouth, Kylie’s brain stopped being capable of rational thought. His tongue gave a knee-weakening stroke against hers and she let out a shockingly needy moan as she clutched at him, fisting her hands in the material of his shirt at his chest.

Only when he’d thoroughly plundered and pillaged and left her boneless did he lift his head and look into her eyes.

“Wow,” she whispered, fully aware she was still holding on to him like he was a lifeline, but the bones in her legs had liquefied. “I mean . . .” She shook her head. “Wow.”

He nodded. “Yeah. So to be clear, that wasn’t ‘a normal kiss’ or even ‘a nice kiss.’ It was a ‘wow’ kiss. Any questions?”

“Just one,” she said softly. “Can I have another?”

Joe didn’t have to be asked twice. His mouth immediately descended again, his fingers sliding into her hair to change the angle of the kiss to suit him. It was a controlled, alpha thing to do, but she had only one thought—nothing about the usually carefully, purposely leashed Joe was in control at the moment.

And she liked it.

She had no idea how long they went at it because she was in absolute heaven. Who knew that the man could use his preferred silent mode to communicate in a way that she finally approved of?

Only when she was completely breathless and about to strip him down to his birthday suit did she manage to pull back.

“Any more questions?” he asked, also a little bit breathless, which was more than slightly gratifying.

Dumbly, she shook her head.

His eyes softened and he gently he stroked his thumb over her bottom lip. “And FYI? Gib’s an idiot.”

She’d forgotten all about Gib, and she bit her lower lip as she stared up at the man who’d made her forget everything but his very talented mouth. And sexy body. And knowing hands . . . “I think I need you to go now,” she murmured.

Again he just looked at her before turning slowly away from her and heading to her front door. His movements were different from his usual decisive, calculated ones and she wondered if he was even halfway as discombobulated as she was. “You’re going home, right?” she asked. “To bed, since you have to be at work so early?”

He paused and then kept walking.

“Dammit, Joe. After all that, you’re really going to leave me here and check out another apprentice without me.”

When he turned to her this time, he was back in control. “You’ve got a time frame now,” he reminded her. “Less than two weeks.”

“But you have to be up early. You have to be at work at four a.m.”

His mouth curved in a small smile. “Don’t worry. I’m a big boy.”

Of that she had no doubt. “I’m coming with. I can help.”

“Look,” he said. “No offense, but I’ll be faster alone. I’ll call you—”

“No way. Just give me a minute.” She started to dash into her bedroom to get a few things she thought she might need, but pivoted first and snatched his keys from his fingers.

“That’s not going to stop me,” he said mildly.

“No, but here’s something that might. If you don’t take me, I’m not going to work on Molly’s mirror.”

He rubbed the back of his neck and tipped his head down, staring at his shoes. Whether to keep from strangling her or just to count to ten, she had no idea. She raced into her room, shoved some stuff from her closet into her bag, and then was back in a flash. “Love you,” she told Vinnie. “Be a good boy. Don’t wait up. I’ll be home late.”

Two minutes later they were in Joe’s truck. His breathing was relaxed and deep. His eyes were vigilant. He was back to his regular cool and calm.

She was not. “Where are we going?”

“The Castro.”

He parked just off Market Street. When he got out of the truck, so did she, pausing at the rainbow-colored crosswalk to look at him. “You’re not going to tell me to stay in the car?” she asked.

“Why, when you’re going with me anyway?”

Good point. And look at him with the learning curve. They headed up a steep walkway to a narrow six-story building. Inside the lobby, Joe pushed the elevator button. The elevator didn’t come.

Fine with Kylie. She hated elevators. Correction—she was terrified of elevators. Well, not of elevators, necessarily, but of any small, enclosed space. She was a terrible claustrophobic. “We should just walk up,” she suggested, trying to hide her panic.

“It’s six flights,” he said and looked at her boots.

They were work boots. Heavy, steel-toed. Great in the shop, not great for going up six flights. “I don’t mind,” she said quickly. “I need the extra steps today anyway.”

Of course just then the elevator doors opened and Joe held the door for her, gesturing for her to go first.

Great. “This is a really bad idea,” she muttered but stepped onto the elevator, albeit with the same enthusiasm she would’ve walked to the guillotine.

The doors slid closed with an audible click, like the last nail on her coffin might sound.

And then, just like that, they were enclosed in the tiny space together. Joe was looking amused, his blue eyes on her, warm but curious. “You okay?” he asked.

“Sure. Yes. Yep,” she said, popping the p sound.

“Maybe one more and I’ll believe you.”

She opened her mouth—to say what exactly, they’d never know, because suddenly the elevator lurched and went on the move. At a snail’s pace. “Seriously? I could’ve climbed the stairs backward faster than this.”

But then, as if the elevator had heard her, the elevator jerked and . . . screeched to a halt.

“Oh shit,” she gasped before she could stop herself. One time she’d been sitting on a bench in her building’s courtyard in front of the fountain when a spider had dropped out of a potted tree and landed next to her. She’d literally shot up into the air using only the muscles of her butt cheeks and had come down into the lap of the perfect stranger sitting next to her.

What happened in the elevator was pretty much the same. One second she was standing on her own two feet. The next she’d leapt at Joe.

His hard arms closed around her and he put his jaw to hers. “If you wanted another kiss, all you had to do was say so.”

“I’m begging you not to talk,” she moaned and dropped her forehead to his chest. “Just get me out of here.”

He paused and she felt him looking down at her. “You’re claustrophobic.”

“Maybe. Just a little tiny bit.” But she was also a big girl, so she pried herself away from him and turned to stare at the doors, willing them to open.

She half expected Joe to make a joke or laugh at her. Instead she felt his bigger, much warmer hand slide into hers. Not proud, her dignity long gone, she held on like he was her personal life buoy.

“One sec,” he said calmly and opened the control panel to take a look.

She lifted her head. “Do you know how to fix elevators?” she asked hopefully.

“I could probably figure it out.”

He could probably figure it out . . . “Oh my God.” She squeezed her eyes shut and heard him laugh.

“It’s going to be okay, Kylie. Just hang on.”

She was pretty sure he didn’t mean that literally but she did just that, fisting her hands in his shirt and holding on. “This is all your fault,” she said tightly. “I really want to hit you right now.”

“Take a few deep breaths,” he said.

“Then can I hit you?”

He snorted and kept doing something in the electric panel.

“Doesn’t anything bother you?” she asked a little bitterly.

“Plenty.” He looked at her as if gauging the level of her panic. Apparently deciding it was extremely high, he said, “I go with the five-by-five rule. If it’s not going to matter in five years, I don’t spend more than five minutes upset by it.”

She tilted her head to his, startled to realize that since he’d bowed his, their mouths were nearly lined up.

All you have to do is not kiss him, she told herself. But she licked her suddenly dry lips, a gesture that had his eyes darkening and a very rough, very male sound coming from deep in his throat. He leaned in even closer, but just before their mouths touched, the elevator jerked and began its upward motion again.

Kylie let out a shaky breath and stepped back from Joe. “I told you this was a bad idea!”

“Yeah, that was close,” he said. “You almost kissed me again.”

“I meant getting on the elevator!” She glared at him. “And you kissed me that last time!”

“You were going on about a kiss being nice. But there was nothing nice about that kiss you planted on me in the alley. It was raw and sexy and dirty in the best possible way. You needed to be reminded of that.”

She covered her face. “Oh my God.”

“God had nothing to do with it,” he said smugly. “Kylie, you kissing me like that was hot as hell and . . .”

She dropped her hands and stared at him. “And . . . ?”

He held her gaze prisoner. “The thought of you not remembering it the same way made me crazy.”

Oh, she remembered it the exact same way. The memories of it were imprinted on her brain much as the Polaroids she’d been receiving. First having drinks with her friends, and then at some point realizing that most of them were paired up and in love, and she’d felt . . . alone. Needing air, she’d stepped outside into the courtyard.

Joe had been there looking dark and dangerously alluring. She’d tossed some change into the fountain like a tourist and he’d laughed with her, making her feel . . . well, less alone.

Then she’d done something wild, at least for her. She’d taken him by the hand and pulled him into the alley. And the rest was history. “I’m not going to do that again,” she said. “Kiss you.”

“Okay, how about I kiss you again then?”

He was infuriating. And way too sexy. She stormed off the elevator. Joe followed, still smiling, the ass. He knocked on an apartment door.

“I forgot to ask,” she whispered. “Which one of the apprentices is this?”

Joe didn’t have time to answer before the apartment door opened, revealing a man who looked older than time itself. He was ninety if he was a day, hunched over a cane.

“Mr. Gonzales,” Joe said respectfully.

“Eh?” Mr. Gonzales asked. “Speak up, boy!”

Kylie recognized him from years ago when he’d worked at her grandpa’s shop after a late-in-life career change from carpenter to furniture maker. She waved at him. “Hi, Mr. Gonzales. Remember me? You were my dad’s first apprentice. I was just a kid, maybe five years old?”

“I remember you.” He blinked at her through his spectacles. “You were a runny-nosed, whiny little thing who rode her bike through the shop and knocked my work over.”

And he’d been a grumpy, curmudgeonly old man even back then, but she kept that to herself.

“Never saw you after your grandfather died.” His voice softened. “It was awful what happened, to the both of you.”

She felt Joe look at her, but she kept her face averted from his, heart feeling tight.

“We’re wondering if you’re still doing any woodworking,” Joe said.

Mr. Gonzales laughed so hard he would’ve toppled over if Joe hadn’t steadied him. “Haven’t left this apartment in several years. The only woodworking I do is picking my teeth with a toothpick. Can’t even take a shit in peace anymore.” He gestured to a bag attached to him at the hip.

Joe winced and nodded. “Thank you for your time, sir.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. If you show up again, bring me some of that greasy fried food from the deli on the corner.”

“Done,” Joe said.

Mr. Gonzales slammed the door on their noses.

Joe looked at her. “What did he mean, sorry for what happened to the both of you? You said you weren’t hurt in the fire.”

Kylie didn’t want to go there with him. Not now, not ever. Just thinking about the horrific warehouse fire gave her nightmares, even all these years later. “I wasn’t.” She started walking. “I’m sure he just meant he was sorry for my loss. I told you that there was an elderly apprentice and he didn’t need to be investigated.”

Joe was unapologetic. “I like to cover all the bases myself.”

She shook her head. “And clearly, you’d already looked into him. “You knew he was two hundred million years old when you said I could come up with you.”

“To be fair, I never said you could come up,” he reminded her. “I said I wouldn’t stop you.”

“Whatever!” she exclaimed, tossing up her hands. So he’d only pretended to trust that she could take care of herself. She should have known. Shaking her head at the both of them, she headed straight to the stairwell. No way in hell was she taking the elevator back down.

“You afraid of getting stuck or afraid you’re going to jump me again?” Joe asked.

She ignored him. Which was, admittedly, getting harder and harder to do.