The last thing Amanda Reardon expected from Jack DiRado was a kiss. A whispered brush-off, an order, even a rare moment of honesty without the usual cynicism dripping from his words. But never a kiss.
She adjusted her position in the hospital chair slightly, pretending to be completely focused on the article in the magazine. In truth, she wasn't sure what the article was about. Every time she tried to read the words, she could feel his lips on her cheek, see him looking into her eyes, and it sent her brain in circles again. What was that all about?