He shouldn't be inclined. Mallory Quinn was sweet, warm, and caring. She was a white picket fence and two-point-four kids. She was a diamond ring.
She was someone's keeper.
Not his. Never his. He didn't do keepers.
And yet in that beat, with her mouth close to his, a smile in her eyes, he... ached. He ached and yearned for something. Someone. He wanted to wrap his arms around a woman, this woman, and lose himself in her.
