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  They froze for a second before Jesse’s smile tightened, then he turned and danced the couples apart.

  “Better than usual,” Rafe muttered.

  “Nobody knows what happened?” Laurel asked.

  “Not unless you do.” He adjusted her tighter against him as the music slowed. “You seem to know everything else about my family.”

  “Small towns,” Laurel offered as an excuse. “I was gone at the time, so I really don’t know what’s wrong. I’d like to find out, though…”

  He kissed her. “You’re a busybody. Admit it.”

  “I’m curious,” she corrected him. “Not the same thing.”

  They danced on, Rafe’s hold on her possessive, yet right. It wasn’t about getting turned on, but about being together. Being connected.

  They stayed on the floor for nearly an hour before Laurel begged off, making their way outside into the cool fall night.

  “I’ll walk you home. When you said you’d be coming straight here from work, and you didn’t have your car, I left my truck outside your apartment.”

  Which meant they’d be at her place…

  Maybe the night wasn’t over yet.

  Chapter Twelve

  They held hands and strolled along, chatting about nothing. Laurel soaked in happiness like a sponge.

  Rafe let out a contented sigh. “I needed this.”

  “Friday night at Traders?”

  “Time with you, at Traders or anywhere.” Rafe squeezed her fingers but kept walking. “It’s been a tough week, but the entire time I was thinking about you, and it made it easier to get through the day.”

  “That’s sweet.” The warm glow in her heart increased. “Anything in particular make the week tougher than usual?”

  He hesitated before answering. “Sometimes I get caught up wishing for things I can’t have—and the biggest of them is a father I can look up to.”

  Sadness swept over her. “I know, and I’m so sorry.”

  “I don’t begrudge you your dad, or Jesse his, or anything like that, but…” He sounded so worried, Laurel tugged him to a stop.

  “What? Tell me.”

  “What if I end up like Ben?” Rafe held up a hand to ward off her protest. “What if, even though I plan to do things differently, I turn out like him? I’ve got him inside me, and I’ve grown up with him around, and even if I want to make different choices, they say we become our parents.”

  Laurel thought for a moment. Of all the things for Rafe to worry about, becoming his father was not on the list. Not as far as she was concerned. “Gabe isn’t like him, and he’s got the same blood as you.”

  Rafe made a rude noise. “My brother is a way better man than me. He’s walked away from trouble far more often than I ever have.”

  “Yeah, because you’re totally out there, brawling the nights away,” Laurel teased. “Not to make light of your concerns, but do you really think you’re some kind of town bad boy?”

  “No, but—” He made a face. “I’m not telling you what I’m most worried about.” Rafe looked away, lowering his voice so much she had to listen carefully to hear. “He gets me so mad I literally see red. I want to hit him, and keep hitting him until he learns a lesson. Feeling that kind of rage scares the shit out of me. What if I go too far?”

  “But you don’t.” Laurel curled her arms around him. “Even when you’re absolutely furious with him, and I know that’s happened before, even then you don’t act on it. You don’t knock his head off, and you don’t let his anger overwhelm you.”

  “So far.”

  She nodded, linking her hands together behind his back, and letting her body press against his, warm and soothing. “Because you’ve decided that’s not you. You made the choice, and that’s what makes you who you are. I think you can trust yourself. The Rafe I know is a pretty good guy. Even-tempered. Cool. I’ve hung out with him a time or two—and I like him. I trust him.”

  He tucked his fingers under her chin. “I never want to break that trust.”

  “Then don’t. Keep trying. That’s as much as we can do…our best.”

  He kissed her and she leaned into it, accepting the contentment pouring from him.

  “You make me a better man,” Rafe said.

  Laurel snorted without intending to break the serious moment, because his comment was too funny to ignore. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s not what Mr. Taylor said back in seventh grade. I think he said something to effect of ‘Miss Sitko seems determined to ruin your chance to excel in this math class.’”

  “God, how can you remember these things?”

  “Am I right?” she demanded.

  He laughed. “Yeah, something like that.”

  They’d reached her place, and this time he accompanied her down the stairs.

  “You’re coming in?” she asked.

  “Definitely.” Rafe stepped through the doorway, locked the door behind them then tugged her toward the couch. “I want to neck with my girlfriend.”

  “Okay.” His girlfriend. She was such a dweeb that the word on his lips gave her shivers.

  He sat, pulling her into his lap. “You’re agreeable tonight.”

  “Why wouldn’t I be? Kisses? Fooling around?” She tugged on the button shirt he wore so she could get her hands underneath his T-shirt. She pressed her palms to his warm stomach, tracing the lines of his six-pack with her fingertips. “You never did take off your shirt the other day.”

  “I was busy,” he reminded her. “Here, let me. I want your hands on me.”

  Instant shiver. She sat back while he made short work of his shirts, pulling off both layers at once to reveal his broad chest and muscular shoulders. His left arm was darker than the right, and she traced her fingers over the line where his T-shirt had left a farmer’s tan. “You drove with your window down and your arm on the sill this summer.”

  Rafe nuzzled her neck before nibbling on her earlobe. “The AC in the truck died in mid-July, and I wasn’t sure repairs were in the budget. So, yeah. I red-necked it the rest of the summer.”

  He was so warm under her Laurel was ready to strip off a few layers herself. Whatever he was doing to her neck was sending goose bumps down her skin, and she alternated hot and cold as he touched her.

  Their lips met, and she joined in enthusiastically as he kissed her. Twisting her in his arms as she dragged her fingers through his hair then lowering her to the couch so he could lever himself over her.

  When he lifted up for a breath of air she moaned in approval. “You like being on top. I’m good with that.”

  His entire body shuddered for a second. “Fuck it. I’m trying to go slow.”

  “I can tell, although I’m not sure why.” She lifted her free leg and wrapped it around his hip, sliding their bodies together more firmly. “This couch is too small. I have a perfectly good bed in the other—”

  “Laurel…” he warned, his voice gone deep. “You’re killing me. No beds. Not yet.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut and fought to keep from complaining. He was right. She didn’t want him to be, but he was.

  “Slow. Right. Sucky idea, by the way.”

  Rafe chuckled. “Why does it not surprise me that my best friend, the churchy girl, is the hottest ever to fool around with?”

  “You’ve had lots of experience since high school, then? To compare me to?” Laurel didn’t mean to sound jealous. Heck, she had no right, especially considering her relationship with Jeff.

  Ugh, Jeff.

  Fortunately, Rafe kissed her thoughts back into line, only letting her up once she’d relaxed against him.

  “I’m not saying you’re some Footloose cliché or anything. You’re you. Enthusiastic whether you’re teasing my cousins, or making trouble, or driving me crazy.” He took control, leaving her breathless, ears ringing. He paused the kiss only to confess, “I like that about you. I always have.”

  What she wanted was to strip them both, but since that seemed off the books, at least they
could take things to the next level.

  Tracing her hands over his body seemed a good start. Scratching lightly with her nails as they kissed and rubbed together. He went reluctantly when she pushed on his chest, rolling to one side of the couch and giving her room to move.

  She was determined he get the message. “You like it when I’m enthusiastic?”

  “Of cours— Hell, woman.”

  Laurel finished peeling her shirt off over her head, tossing it aside. She straddled his thighs then reached behind her and undid her bra. “Then shut up and kiss me.”

  He stared as the fabric fell away. “I’m on a thin rope here, Sitko.”

  “Let’s make it snap.” She swayed forward and pressed their bodies together as she reconnected their lips.

  He kissed her urgently, as if the fate of the world depended on this moment. Or his sanity—one of the two. Laurel hummed her approval as he brought both hands up and cupped her breasts, playing with her nipples for a moment before sliding his hands lower.

  Undoing the button to her dress slacks as he deepened the kiss.

  It wasn’t the time to tease about how his version of slow seemed to be rapidly accelerating. She was totally on board, wiggling to vertical to let him peel off her pants. He took her panties with them, and she was naked sooner than expected.

  Naked, except for her socks.

  Embarrassment slipped in far too quickly. As much as she wanted this, the urge to place her hands strategically over a few areas was difficult to ignore.

  He didn’t seem to notice her wavering. Instead he held her hand, swallowing hard as he looked her over, mesmerized, raw desire in his eyes. “Sweet angel.”

  Standing motionless in the buff as he stared got more difficult by the second. “Your turn,” she whispered.

  He caught hold of her hips and dragged her back into his arms. It was a heady sensation, bare-ass naked against his jeans, her breasts rubbing the fine hairs on his chest. Heat enveloped her, inside and out.

  “Since you seem to be extra needy tonight, I’m going to do what I’ve been longing to do since the last time.”

  He lifted her skyward, standing her over him. He leaned on the backrest and smiled up at her.

  Standing on the soft cushions meant she had to work to keep her balance. Plus there was that whole naked thing going on. “I’m dying here, Coleman.”

  “We can’t have that. I’m dying for a taste. Let’s both get happy.”

  He pulled her toward him and suddenly his mouth was on her and standing seemed like a bad idea. How on earth was she supposed to keep her legs from buckling with his tongue doing terribly wonderful things to her?

  Laurel planted her hands on the wall, closed her eyes and let herself enjoy the moment. “If I fall over, it’s your fault.”

  He didn’t answer, for which she was very grateful, because it meant his tongue was occupied with more important matters, like teasing her clit. And licking her, and covering her with his mouth, and suddenly there were stars floating before her eyes. A clear midnight sky full of them as tension gathered in her core, whirling in a circle like a cyclone about to go off.

  Rafe hummed happily, the vibration tipping her further to the limit. And when his fingers slipped into her, and he sucked on her clit, she lost it, rocking helplessly against his face before her knees gave out.

  He caught her as she tumbled downward, cradling her in his arms. His grin was both cocky and teasing. “Shaky ground, Sitko?”

  “Didn’t you feel that earthquake that rumbled through here?”

  A low sound of amusement escaped him as he pulled her closer, going to his feet. Still holding her, he drifted toward the back of the apartment.

  Giddy hope rose, cutting through the endorphins raging in her system. “You taking me to bed?” she asked.

  He shouldered the door at the end of the short hall. “Putting you to bed.”

  Soft sheets met her skin, and a moment later he’d pulled the quilt over her. She wiggled up on her elbows, the fabric barely covering her breasts. “You’re leaving me?”

  “Yup.” Rafe knelt, leaning in for another kiss.

  He pulled away when she attempted to put her arms around his neck, slipping from her grasp to stand over her. His erection pressed the front of his jeans, the thick length clearly visible as he adjusted his stance. Hands resting on his hips for a moment as he seemed to be trying to memorize her.

  Unbelievable. “You’re leaving me. When you’re like that. And I’m like…this. Naked, this.”

  His smile never faltered. “Night, Sitko. Sweet dreams.”

  He turned and walked away.

  Laurel collapsed back onto her pillow, satisfaction and frustration warring within her. Stupid stubborn ass. Just like always.

  The familiar connection between them coloured with something more warmed her as she rolled over and stared at the clock until it blurred and vanished.

  Walking away?

  Forget being an angel. Right then he was a fucking saint.

  Rafe held the steering wheel tight enough he swore the hard surface creaked under his grip.

  Part of him wanted to turn the truck around, hurry back to Laurel’s apartment and finish what they’d started. But driving away was the right choice no matter how much he wanted her.

  It hadn’t even been a week yet. It didn’t matter that they had tons of history together. In the long run taking their time wasn’t going to hurt them. Heck, he wasn’t sure if Laurel was a virgin. They had to have a talk about that at some point, soon, so he could be ready.

  God. Even the idea of Laurel with another man was enough to set his teeth on edge, which was all kinds of twisted considering he wasn’t a virgin, and he knew damn well she didn’t expect him to be.

  So what if it was chauvinistic. Still set off something caveman-like in his gut to think of her with anyone else.

  He hit the edge of town and pressed his foot to the floor, tires spinning briefly before he checked himself. No use getting a speeding ticket on top of being sexually frustrated. He slowed to the speed limit, breathing carefully to settle his nerves.

  Coming over the rise of the hill and down toward the Coleman property, he laughed when he spotted the speed trap set up at the side of the road. He slowed even further, rolling down the passenger window so he could wave at his cousin, Anna Thompson.

  She offered him a grin, then refocused her attention on the radar gun.

  Amusement lingered as he drove past the house he’d shared with his cousins not that long ago. Jesse’s truck was parked outside, and he was sitting on the tailgate, throwing a ball for his dog.

  Rafe turned in the driveway and parked next to his cousin. Slipped out and joined him, jumping up to sit at his side.

  Jesse indicated the case of beer resting behind him, the box cracked open and a couple of empties already slid back into place. “Help yourself.”

  Rafe took one and popped off the lid, drinking deeply as he relaxed in the silence. The golden retriever raced back with the ball in his mouth, resting his paws on the metal tailgate and depositing the ball at Jesse’s side before dancing off, glancing back optimistically toward his master.

  “You ever wish people were as easy to understand as dogs?” Jesse asked.

  “Never really considered it.”

  Jesse picked up the ball and stared at it for a moment. “They’re pretty simple when you come down to it. A dog’s goals, I mean. Take Morgan, here. He wants to be fed and watered. A warm place to sleep, and a whole lot of activities that make him happy. And he doesn’t care if those are rabbits to chase, balls to return—”

  “—balls to lick,” Rafe offered.

  His cousin gave him a dirty look before whipping the toy into the yard. Morgan took off after it like a shot. “I’m trying to have a serious conversation, if you don’t mind.”

  “How many beers you had tonight?”

  Jesse shrugged. “Not that many.”

  Rafe nodded. “Okay. You’re right. A d
og’s goals are pretty simple. Anything in particular bring on this deep and philosophical discussion topic?”

  “Don’t you think our goals should be just as simple?”

  He resisted making another joke about balls. Jesse probably wouldn’t see the humour in it. Not tonight.

  Instead Rafe gave it a bit of serious consideration. “What makes you think our goals aren’t that simple? We like food and drink and a roof over our heads. And I’m all for a whole bunch of things that make me happy.”

  “Dogs don’t do things deliberately to make other people unhappy,” Jesse pointed out. “Humans do that. And sometimes we do things we completely hate because we know somebody else wants us to. Dogs don’t do that.”

  “We can make a pretty long list of things dogs don’t do.” Rafe took another drink. “You really want us to spend the night at it?”

  His cousin shrugged. “Hell, no. Just figured you’d like something inane to discuss to get your mind off your troubles.”

  “My troubles?”

  Jesse lifted the bottle to his lips and took a long drink, a slow smile curling his lips. “Laurel get off to bed okay?”

  Rafe’s entire body tightened. “Shut up.”

  “Seriously, cuz, I figure you’re destined for sainthood.”

  A grumble escaped him before he could stop it. “Already told myself that tonight, but it’s worth it.”

  “She’s a fine-looking woman, and she’s sharp.”

  He really didn’t want to talk about Laurel anymore. “On a different topic, how come you’re home early? And alone?”

  Jesse popped the lid on another beer then used the bottle to gesture into the yard. “I’m not alone. I’ve got Morgan. Finest companion a man could ever want.”

  “He doesn’t look tall enough to dance with.”

  “Got enough of that in earlier tonight.” Jesse stared into the distance, his feet kicking gently as they hung from the tailgate.

  Rafe stayed quiet as well, thinking things through as he waited for more answers to spill.

  “I get restless at times,” Jesse said. “Feels as if nothing ever changes here. We get up every morning and work the land, and on Fridays we go to Traders and see the same people.”