Leaning close so their foreheads brushed, he said, “I miss you.” Her pulse quickened. She couldn’t imagine any man, let alone this man, saying such words sincerely. Not to her. Yet here they were, and a silly sliver of herself wondered if this was all a strange ruse. Like Merritt might erupt with laughter at any moment, and someone—Mr. Portendorfer, perhaps—might burst from one of the quiet rooms and say, We got you good, Miss Larkin!
