Rocky Mountain Devil Page 6

  “Yeah, he’ll be fine. He’s already itching to get out of the hospital. Nicole was pretty worried, but it looks as if Troy was pretty lucky.”

  They talked a little longer about other people they both knew. Laurel mentioned who else she’d bumped into over the summer, and Rafe caught her up on their classmates who’d moved away during the previous years.

  They deliberately avoided any more delicate topics, but by the time they got back to Laurel’s they were a lot more comfortable than they had been. More like getting together those first days after a long summer break when they hadn’t seen a lot of each other.

  Rafe stopped her before they could descend the staircase. “I’m not going to come in,” he warned.

  This time Laurel smiled. “That’s probably wise.”

  “No probably about it.” Rafe moved in closer, resting his hands on her hips because he had to touch her. “Dating, but at a proper pace. That’s what you said this afternoon.”

  “Just because I said it doesn’t mean it’s really what I want to do,” Laurel whispered, her gaze darting over his face.

  “Me neither, but it’s not even September sixth here in Rocky.”

  She snickered before nodding in agreement. Her hands drifted up his body until she was playing with the hair at the back of his neck. “You know, there’s a lot of things we didn’t talk about yet.”

  “We’ve got time. Now let me kiss you good night before my good intentions vanish.”

  She lifted her lips, and it wasn’t the first time that they’d done this, but damned if it didn’t feel special. She was warm and willing, and she kissed him back eagerly.

  By some miracle they kept space between their bodies, but their lips and tongues danced. Pleasure passed between them, and Rafe told his body to behave itself because, yeah, he was getting turned on, but this was about more.

  More than the sweet friction and tantalizing taste of her. More than the little sounds she made that went straight through him and sent chills up his spine.

  Kissing like this meant pushing their relationship to something more than they’d been for years, and the change was something to cherish.

  When they backed apart, her cheeks were flushed and her lips were swollen, and mischief danced in her eyes. “Well, Rafe Coleman, I guess Jenna Ireland wasn’t lying back in the day. You are a fine kisser.”

  He squeezed her one last time then somehow let her go. “You already knew that,” he pointed out.

  “Always good to have backup confirmation. It has been three years.”

  “I kissed you this afternoon,” he grumbled.

  “Didn’t count,” she said primly, walking down the steps to her apartment.

  “It didn’t count? What the hell’re you talking about?”

  She unlocked the door then smiled up at him. “We weren’t dating then.”

  Troublemaker. He let her have this one.

  “Call me,” he ordered. He watched until she closed the door and locked it, then wandered back to his truck whistling happily.

  Yeah, there were all sorts of things they needed to figure out, and tonight they’d pretty much ignored anything big that needed to be discussed. But it still seemed as if it’d been the right thing to do.

  They’d needed a dose of them. A time to remember they liked each other as people. As friends.

  Yup, it had been a fine evening, and a good start to the next stage of their relationship. Rafe ignored all the things that needed to be done back at the ranch. Instead he headed back to his apartment and crawled into bed feeling pretty damn satisfied.

  Full steam ahead. That was the plan.

  Nowhere in the fucking plan was someone supposed to knock on his fucking door at six a.m.

  Rafe stumbled out of bed, cursing lightly. Odds were it was his father, because Gabe didn’t expect him to be up. It had to be Ben, and Rafe grumbled his disapproval. Pissed off and angry was not the way he wanted to resume interaction with the man.

  Except, waking up someone who thought they got to sleep in was kind of the perfect way to get the pissed off and angry results.

  Rafe didn’t bother to pull on any clothes. Just stomped his way to the front entrance in his boxers and yanked the door open, ready to offer his opinion on the bullshit situation in no uncertain terms.

  “What the f—?”

  He nearly swallowed his tongue to stop before he said more, because it wasn’t Ben standing on the steps.

  It was Jeff Lawson, Laurel’s mystery man.

  Chapter Five

  Jeff held forward a familiar red Tim Hortons cup, extra large. “Coffee?”

  Rafe stood there, not quite believing his eyes.

  “I brought cream and sugar. And doughnuts.” Jeff lifted his other hand, a paper bag in his grip.

  Confusion set in harder. Rafe was a little iffy on whether he was awake or dreaming. “Did I know you were coming over?”

  “No. I thought it would be a good idea to get to know some of the people in the community.”

  “And you decided to start with me.”

  Jeff nodded, seemingly not one bit concerned at having shown up unexpected and uninvited. He waited patiently as if him being there was the most logical thing in the world, which meant he was either the stupidest man on earth, or the smartest son of a bitch.

  Rafe shrugged, then turned his back and retreated into his apartment. “Come on in.”

  He ignored his guest and headed to his bedroom, grabbing jeans off the back of the chair where he’d tossed them the previous night. It only took a second to haul a dark T-shirt over his head before dragging a hand through his hair and returning to the living room.

  Jeff had made himself at home. Well, as much as he could considering everything Rafe owned was in boxes except for two wooden chairs and an old wooden table that were so decrepit he hadn’t bothered to take them with him in the first place.

  Still the man was happily setting out the food as if on fancy china. “I brought a bunch of breakfast sandwiches, as well. Figured you probably hadn’t eaten yet.”

  “Not yet.” Rafe didn’t see much reason to be polite. “By this time most days I’d already be in the fields, but since you caught me on my morning off, appreciate it. I guess.”

  Jeff looked slightly uncomfortable. “I didn’t realize. Sorry.”

  His distress vanished almost instantly, and he offered another one of those “reassuring” smiles. The kind Rafe remembered seeing far too often on people who hoped to get something from him. The guy was going to be disappointed if he was barking up that tree.

  In the meantime, Rafe wasn’t about to turn down the offer of a free meal.

  He popped the lid off his coffee cup and drank deeply, letting the scalding-hot liquid sink into his system and take the edge off his annoyance. He unwrapped one of the bacon-and-egg sandwiches, and Jeff did the same, and the two of them sat quietly, eating, drinking and eyeing each other.

  Finally it was too awkward to stay silent any longer, even by Rafe’s standards. Might as well satisfy some of his curiosity.

  “Where’re you from?”

  “Toronto. Lived there my entire life—my father is the senior pastor at the Central Baptist Church.”

  Ahhhh. The plot thickened. “Following in your father’s footsteps, I take it.”

  Jeff smiled proudly. “Don’t most sons?”

  Buzzzzzzzz. Wrong answer. Rafe reached for another sandwich, balling up the wrapper and tossing it into the open box he was using as a garbage bin before answering. “Some. Some set their own path.”

  The other man hesitated before nodding. “We all have to do what we’re called to.” He found his stride, straightening and looking Rafe in the eye. “That’s part of why I’m here.”

  The caffeine must have hit Rafe’s system. He was awake enough to deal with this strange situation. “If you’re looking for information about the church, I’m afraid I can’t help you. My mom’s a member. While I have no beef with any of you in particular, it’
s not really my thing.”

  “I’m not here to talk to you about the church. I’m here to talk to you about Laurel.”

  Of course he was.

  “Awesome woman, isn’t she?” Rafe leaned back in his chair and took another long drink as he watched Jeff closely. “Me and Laurel, we go way back.”

  Jeff dipped his chin briefly. “She mentioned you while we were at college. Said you were pretty much the best friend she’d ever had.”

  Wow. Rafe wasn’t sure what surprised him more. That Laurel had been talking about him at Bible school, or that Jeff had admitted it. Only it wasn’t their past that was important right now.

  She hadn’t been happy when she’d spotted Jeff yesterday. Rafe circled the wagons and put up as much protection as he could. “That’s part of the reason why us being together now is so perfect. We’ve got all that history.”

  There was a pause as Jeff played with the empty sandwich wrappers in front of him. “Yes, well. The Bible says that when we’re young, we think as a child, and speak as a—”

  “If you don’t mind, Pastor Lawson, let’s skip the Bible recitations.” Rafe folded his arms over his chest. “Like I said, I’ve got no beef with the church, or with the Bible, but if you want to talk to me, I’d prefer the words coming out of your mouth were your own.”

  Jeff seemed shocked by the request, but he gave a quick nod then gathered his garbage together and put it in the now-empty bag. “Why don’t we go do some work while we keep talking? That might make the conversation flow a little easier.”

  He’d obviously forgotten the part earlier when Rafe had said it was his day off, but hey, if the man wanted to volunteer as free labour? Rafe was not about to deny him the privilege.

  “Sure. Just let me pull on my boots.”

  “Oh, and call me Jeff.” The man followed Rafe toward the door. “Pastor Lawson is my father.”

  Rafe jammed his feet in his boots and his hat on his head before pulling the door open for his guest. “After you, Jeff.”

  Out of the tasks he might have picked to inflict on the man, the first one that popped to mind was all sorts of wrong. Temptation was far too strong, and Rafe grabbed a scythe from the shed along with a rake before marching them up to the front of the drive.

  He turned and assessed the man. “You comfortable working with the blade, or you want me to do the cutting?”

  “I’m good for whichever.” Jeff’s chin rose as if this was a challenge he wasn’t going to fail. “Just show me a few practice swings so I can see how it goes.”

  Rafe swung low and hard, letting the weight of the sharp blade do most of the work. The green stalks of thistles with their massive purple heads fell in batches as he mowed about him with the scythe, stepping in an easy rhythm, arm held stiff against the cool metal handle. “It takes a little getting used to, but I’m sure you can do it.”

  Jeff accepted the tool, his arm dipping slightly at the unexpected weight. He took a first swing, and the leading edge caught at a bad angle, dragging the scythe to a halt, tangled in the thick stalks.

  “Happens to the best of us,” Rafe offered in support. “Hold the blade a little farther in front of you. That’s it. Now, try again.”

  This time some of his target fell, and Jeff glanced up with a pleased expression. “I did it.”

  Rafe refrained from chuckling. “You did. Now keep going, I’ll rake behind you.”

  He waited until the other man was a few feet ahead. Jeff was a far better sport than Rafe had expected, but since he didn’t know what had set Laurel off, he wasn’t ready to become bosom buddies at this stage of the game.

  “You knew Laurel at college?” Rafe asked, returning to the most important topic.

  “We did a year together, yes.” Jeff kept his eyes on the blade in front of him as he spoke. “She’s a lovely young woman.”

  “We can agree on that.” Rafe shook weeds off the rake head, watching Jeff’s shoulders move under his light jacket. His solid frame was thick enough—he might be able to hold his own if it came to a fight.

  Not that Rafe was thinking about knocking him over and dragging him through the dirt.

  Much.

  The other man wore runners and cotton pants—sturdier than dress slacks and fancy shoes, but not thick enough to protect him completely. On every step his shins and knees brushed the tall thistles on the deeper side of the ditch as he cut the layer in front of him. Rafe wondered how evil it was that he didn’t warn Jeff to be more careful.

  “Yes, Laurel is lovely, and we found we had a lot in common. We dated, in fact.”

  Rafe was suddenly glad he hadn’t said anything about the thistles. “Really.”

  “She didn’t tell you?”

  He wasn’t about to admit they’d barely had time to say hello, let alone talk about anything serious since he’d gotten back to town. “Nope. I guess she figured it was in the past, and it didn’t matter.”

  Jeff paused, glancing over his shoulder. “I care about her a great deal,” he informed Rafe. “And while you might have a friendship that goes back a long ways, I hope that like me, you’d want what’s best for her now.”

  “Yup,” Rafe agreed. “Which is why I’m dating her.”

  The other man gave Rafe his back as he returned to swinging the blade. “It’s good to have confidence in our abilities, and it’s good to have a positive self-image, but it’s also good to be realistic.”

  Bunch of starched-shirt bullshit. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Just that the most important relationships in our lives, the ones that count, need to fit where we come from and where we’re going.” Jeff turned, setting the blade head on the ground and leaning on the shaft as he spoke seriously. “I came to Rocky to consider serving the church, but I won’t lie. I also came because I knew Laurel was here.”

  Rafe had to give the man credit for being blunt. “She’s here, but she’s mine.”

  Jeff raised a brow. “See, a comment like that is what makes me think you’re really not the man for her. I can only imagine how well that would go over with Laurel. To be claimed as someone’s possession.”

  Sudden anger slid in, partly because the bastard was right. “She knows how I feel about her.”

  The other man’s shoulders lifted in a soft shrug. “And that means she’ll be able to make an informed decision when it’s time.”

  “I think you should leave now.” Rafe held his hand out for the scythe, his sense of humour vanishing abruptly. “And you need to think twice before getting in Laurel’s face, because it was pretty clear she wants nothing to do with you.”

  “We’ll see,” Jeff returned evenly, looking Rafe squarely in the eye as he handed over the tool. “You have a great day.”

  Rafe bit his tongue to keep from shouting something rude after the man, but it didn’t keep the curse words from popping into his head. The last few minutes of conversation had been as good as a declaration of war. One that Rafe had no intention of losing.

  He stood there until Jeff left, a rush of satisfaction hitting as the car bottomed out in a deep hole just shy of the main road. The screech of rock against the undercarriage was the fuck you Rafe hadn’t permitted himself to offer in person.

  Well. That changed things.

  Last night with Laurel he’d gone slow. Taken his time. But if Pastor “I have an opinion and it’s full of shit” was sticking around, Rafe wanted the whole story ASAP. Like today.

  Only it was barely six thirty in the morning, and he could hardly tromp over to Laurel’s to demand to know what was going on.

  So instead, Rafe tossed the rake aside and took aim at the noxious weeds around him. He laid into them with a great deal of enthusiasm as he imagined mowing down Jeff at the ankles then piling everything into a massive bonfire and burning it all to hell.

  Laurel took the early lunch slot and arranged to meet her friend Nicole for a quick catch-up. The past few days had to have been exhausting, and Laurel was worried about her and
Nic’s boyfriend.

  She ran the last few paces to nab her arm before Nic entered the café.

  “Hey, how’re you doing?” she asked as she caught Nicole in a firm hug.

  “Okay.” The dark shadows under Nicole’s eyes were new, but she smiled as they grabbed a table. “Troy’s champing at the bit to get out of the hospital already. Looks like maybe even tomorrow.”

  “Wow, that’s fast. I mean, that’s great, but…”

  “I guess he’s banged and bruised but only partially broken, so yeah, four days and he’ll be out.” Nicole pushed aside the menu on the tabletop and leaned back in the booth. She covered her mouth as a yawn escaped. “I’m taking a couple days off. Troy insists on moving in with me, so I want to try and get as much done before he’s home, or else he’ll overdo it.”

  “I can give you a hand,” Laurel offered. She squeezed Nicole’s fingers. “There’s a whole lot to celebrate in what you just said. The fact he’s healthy enough to want to do anything is a miracle.”

  “I know.”

  They gave their lunch order then Nicole turned on her with a stern look. “And now you. What the heck is going on, girl?”

  Oh, me? Just dealing with a new boyfriend, and an old one, and a whole lot of other baggage.

  She didn’t say that out loud, though. It was far too much to drop at one time, especially since Nicole was facing her own troubles. Instead Laurel shared the part Nic was probably most interested in.

  “Rafe Coleman’s back in town.”

  “Yes… That’s part of the news I heard. I was wondering more about the kissing booth you were running at the fairgrounds yesterday.”

  Laurel snorted. “Nice try, but there was only one kiss, and it was just a welcome back between friends.”

  Instant reaction. Her face went so hot she was sure her cheeks were fire-engine red.

  Nicole tilted her head to one side and looked across the table with amusement. “So that’s what happens when you lie.”