In Bed with Mr. Wrong

Out of Uniform - 1

by

Katee Robert

To Heather Howland, editor extraordinaire.

Chapter One

“Why did I let you convince me to do this?” Brianne Nave grabbed the shirt she’d discarded two minutes ago and held it up to her body as she looked in the mirror. It was the same plain pink shirt it’d been the first time she considered it.

Her best friend, Avery, laughed on the other end of the phone line. “Because you’re the best friend a girl can have?”

Which was the same argument she and their other best friend, Drew, had used to convince Bri to agree to this blind date in the first place. Drew’s brother was back in town for a few weeks on leave, and they were worried he’d spend the whole time holed up doing…whatever it was they thought he’d do. They hadn’t exactly been clear on that.

She threw the shirt back on the bed and started to reach for the other shirt she’d considered, only to realize it was also pink. She’d been waffling between two nearly identical shirts for the last fifteen minutes. “I can’t do this.”

“Sure you can.”

“Avery, I haven’t been on a date in…” God, she couldn’t remember the last time. Maybe once in college?

“That’s exactly why you need this. There was never a better time to get back on that horse—or a better guy. Ryan’s a total sweetie.”

She knew that. She knew all about him. Drew and Avery had said nothing but good things about Ryan since she met them a little over a year ago. He was a real-life hero, to hear them tell of it. A god among men. Throw in a brother as attractive as Drew, and she wasn’t worried about him being a dud.

No, she was worried about him thinking she was a dud.

Hating the insecurity trying to take root in her stomach, she walked to Mr. Smith’s fish tank and dropped in a few flakes of the fish food he liked so much. I’ll only be gone a few hours. Not nearly long enough for him to get lonely. “But—”

“It’s too late to worry about it now. He’s already on his way. So just take a deep breath, let go of whatever neurosis is circling that busy brain of yours, and have a good time.”

Easier said than done. “He’s leaving in two weeks.” She dropped onto her mattress and reached for her boots. They were cute, not sexy, but she’d rather sacrifice a little style than end the night in an ER because she slipped on ice.

Besides, she didn’t exactly own any shoes that could be considered sexy.

“You have to start somewhere. It’s not like he’s flying to the moon. Long-distance relationships work all the time.”

“You sound like you’re already planning the wedding.” Avery did that, though. She skipped adding two plus two and jumped straight to four. Drew, the town’s sheriff and most eligible bachelor, wasn’t much better.

“There can’t be a wedding at all unless you actually go on a date.” She knew exactly what to say to cut right through Bri’s arguments. Because Bri wanted that life—the husband, the kids, the white picket fence, the roots—on a foundational level. She’d just never been courageous enough to take that first step.

Hadn’t her childhood taught her better than to expect permanence? Nothing was ever concrete. Life took people away—forever, in the case of her parents. She’d gone through three foster homes before she finally landed in one that stuck, and while she’d never been abused, there never seemed to be enough food to go around, never enough clothes to keep warm, always bigger kids who wouldn’t hesitate to hurt her if she didn’t hand over whatever it was they wanted at the time.

Back then, it was convenient to think that someday a Prince Charming would come along and they’d live happily ever after, but she’d learned a long time ago that fairytales only existed in books.

A rumble of an engine had her rushing through her small house to the front window to peer through the sheer curtains. An SUV stood at the end of her walkway and the man getting out of the driver’s seat could only be described as perfect. And women thought Drew was handsome? “Oh my God, Avery, you didn’t tell me he was gorgeous.”

“Don’t be gross. Ryan’s like a brother to me.”

She took in his square jaw and short dark hair and—oh Lord—those shoulders. He looked like Clark Kent without the glasses… “You set me up with Superman.”

“I’m not hearing this.”

“He’s here early. Who shows up for a blind date early?” Bri looked down at her boring maxi skirt and sensible boots. She should have dressed in something racier, something that would make a man like that stand up and take notice. As it was, she’d be lucky if he didn’t ask to have pizza delivered to avoid being seen with her at any of the restaurants in town.

Unfortunately, she’d probably already killed the ability to do “racier.” She shot a guilty look at the empty Oreo package visible through the doorway to the kitchen. When her neighbor Marcy’s cat had gone missing, she’d invited the poor woman over to comfort her. She’d been so busy chatting, she’d eaten half the package herself.

Maybe there was still time to change.

“He’s a solider. They take that punctual stuff pretty seriously.”

He was already halfway up the walk—and answering the door in her bra might be racy, but it wasn’t the kind of racy she wanted to aim for. She hurried into her bedroom and threw on the closest pink shirt. “Hair up or down?” Surely there was a hair band in this room somewhere?

“You’re stressing yourself out. I can hear it.”

“I have to go.” For better or worse, she had to open the door when he knocked. Bri moved back into the living room, shuffling to the window, needing another look at him. He was just as gorgeous now as he’d been the first time. Crap.

“Relax and have fun! I’ll call you tomorrow.”

She hung up her phone and realized she was sitting here, staring out the window, like some kind of freak. Bri dropped the curtain and backed up so quickly, she almost tripped over her end table.

Oh God, this is going to be a disaster.

At least he hadn’t seen her watching him. She hoped. Even knowing he was a few steps away from the door, she still jumped when he pounded on it. “You can do this. It’s just one date. It doesn’t matter if he’s gorgeous. He’s a nice guy.” Taking a deep breath that did absolutely nothing to fortify her, she opened the door.

Drew’s brother really did look like Superman. He had that amazing almost-too-perfect-to-be-real face going for him, and his eyes were the clear blue of a winter’s day—far better than her murky-ocean color. He towered over her, the sheer size difference making her wonder what it would be like to be wrapped up in his arms.

She realized she was drinking him in like a cool glass of water on a summer’s day. He, however, didn’t seem to be feeling the same overwhelming awe she was. He had an odd look on his face, as if he didn’t know what to make of her.

Her stomach tied itself in knots as the truth hit her like a bucket of icy water. She’d seen the very same expression on the faces of her first foster parents. They’d tried to tough it out, but their determination only lasted six months. That he might be judging her just as quickly hurt more than she dared admit.

“Ryan.” He held out his hand, apparently deciding that shaking was better than…whatever the alternative on dates was. A kiss on the cheek? A hug?

She took his hand, wishing she didn’t notice how warm it was despite their breath ghosting across the air between them. “Bri.”

“Nice to meet you.” He didn’t smile, just continued looking at her with that odd look on his face.

“You, too.” God, she must really not be what he’d expected. Had Drew painted him a picture of a sexy librarian, complete with pencil skirt and thigh-high stockings? Even on her best day, she couldn’t measure up to those kinds of expectations.

Maybe it was best she didn’t know what he’d told Ryan.

She swallowed hard, hating the way her throat had tightened. “I just need to grab my purse.” And try to convince herself that she could do this. A minute alone to shore up the barriers she’d built to protect herself would have to be enough. It’s just a favor to your friends, she reminded herself while ducking into her living room. When the night is over, I’ll never have to see him again.

Ryan cleared his throat behind her. “I’m sorry. I think I’ve gotten this off to the wrong start.”

Here it comes. “What do you have to be sorry for? It’s obvious you were expecting something else.” She wasn’t even close to being in this man’s league, and they both knew it.

“Not so fast—you’re jumping to conclusions.”

“Maybe you’re right.” He wasn’t, though, and all her childhood defense mechanisms rose to the surface, demanding she lash out before he could hurt her further. She faced him, forced herself to smile, and went for the one thing that might level the playing field. The only black mark on his stellar record. “Let’s get something straight, okay? This is just dinner. I have no intention of embarking on any kind of building-burning—or burning of any kind—with you.”

His mouth went tight. “I see the Wellingford gossip mill is still running in full force.”

She blinked. Okay, so it might have been a low blow, but all she’d meant was to poke at him a bit. The venom in his voice wasn’t on par with her comment. Did he hate this town or something? “Um…it’s not every day someone burns down the high school on graduation day.”

“It was ten years ago. They need to move on. Then again, nothing worth talking about ever happens here.” He stepped back. “Maybe this was a mistake. Why don’t I just take off and we’ll forget this ever happened?”

Was he implying a date with her wouldn’t be worth talking about, either? Bri may not be like whatever kind of woman he usually spent time around, but she wasn’t chopped liver. Whatever Avery’s and Drew’s reasons for setting them up—and she would be having a conversation with Avery about this—she’d agreed to this date as a favor, and she was damn well going to see it through. She huffed and lifted her chin. “No. I agreed to take you out on this date, and that’s what I’m going to do. It would be a shame for you to have to sit at home by yourself and do whatever it is lonely, attractive men like you do.”

…

The last thing Ryan Flannery planned on when he came back to visit his family was being browbeaten by his big brother into a blind date. All he’d been looking for was a break from the Air Force—and the intense training he’d gone through for the last five and a half months—for two weeks. Then he’d hit the ground running, and start gearing up for his next deployment. He should have known a trip back to Wellingford would be anything but restful, but the siren call of home had been too much to resist after so long away.

Looking at the woman standing across from him, her chin raised and blue eyes flashing behind those sexy secretary glasses, he had to admit that coming back might have been a mistake. A muscle ticked in his jaw. She thought he was lonely? “I’m more than capable of keeping myself entertained.”

Bri brushed past him, her gaze on the street. “Do you think so? I think your brother has the right idea of it—a man whose idea of a good time is burning things to the ground shouldn’t be left to his own devices. You’re a menace to society.”

She sounded so prim and proper, he wanted to muss up her straight dark hair and undo a few buttons on her shirt just to see what she’d do. That thought gave him all the ammunition he needed. “You wouldn’t know a good time if it bit you in the ass.”

“Excuse me?” Her back went so ramrod straight, it was like he could see the stick up her ass. Ryan’s gaze dropped to where her hips curved, and he frowned at the long skirt. The fall of the fabric indicated there was something there worth grabbing, but he couldn’t be sure. “What were your plans tonight—hanging out with your thirteen cats and knitting them mittens?”

She gasped. “I don’t have cats. They’re evil creatures. I have a perfectly nice fish named Mr. Smith.”

“How mundane. Let me guess. A goldfish?” He closed the door behind him and pressed a hand to the small of her back, guiding her down the stairs and toward his Suburban. It was difficult not to follow the perfect line of her spine with his palm, no matter how aggravating he found her.

“Don’t be insulting. He’s a betta fish.”

Because that makes a world of difference. Ryan snorted. “No wonder you haven’t had a date in the fourteen months my brother’s known you. I bet you talk to your fish, too, don’t you?”

She half turned to glare, the move dragging his hand over her back, though she didn’t seem to notice. “Fish need companionship, same as any other animal. He likes it when I read to him.”

“I’ll bet he does.” He opened the passenger door and waited for her to climb into the seat, which she did with a huff. By the time he made it around to the driver’s side, her body language had chilled the inside of the car more than the weather.

He started the Suburban and took a second to let the truth sink in. His brother had well and truly screwed him. Drew had gone on and on about the beautiful—but shy—new librarian who’d just moved to Pennsylvania all the way from California and didn’t know many people in town, and needed someone to show her a good time. Ryan had figured there were worse things to do on leave than take out a sweet, pretty girl.

Turned out Drew was only half-right.

She thought he was a charity case. Hell, she practically clobbered him with it, despite the fact that he was the one doing the favor here. Worse, she jumped at the first opportunity to shove his past down his throat—or an exaggerated version of it that didn’t take into account little things like the truth. And why should she be worried about the truth? No one else in this town was.

He pulled onto the street, wishing he hadn’t agreed to this favor. Instead of sitting in his SUV with a prickly little librarian, he’d be drinking beer with his brother and Avery while they played video games.

On second thought, maybe this was the better of the two options.

He glanced at Bri, taking in the way she had her arms wrapped tightly around herself, as if she might break apart at any second. Or maybe she was just trying not to rip him a new one. He didn’t normally have women going for his throat within thirty seconds of meeting him, and this was a new experience he could have gone without. Ryan turned out of her neighborhood and replayed their meeting from beginning to end, trying to determine where it had all gone wrong.

It didn’t take long to figure out the answer.

When she’d opened the door, he’d been blown away, not expecting such an intoxicating blend of beautiful and what he could only describe as librarian. She’d been flushed and sporting an expression that was both terrified and excited, and all he could focus on was how he wanted to take off those sexy glasses and see if her lips tasted as kissable as they looked.

By the time he’d gotten hold of himself, all the excitement had melted away, leaving only a wary resignation. And then it was too late. Not a damn thing he could do or say would take back those seventeen seconds—she’d already mistaken his silence for disappointment. “You’re wrong.”

“Concerning which part?” She didn’t even look at him. “The fact that you can’t be trusted to spend time alone without doing damage to public property? Or for believing my friends when they said they were setting me up with a nice guy?”

He clenched his jaw. “Moving past the property damage bullshit for a second, what makes you think I’m not a nice guy?”

“Would you like a list?” She shook her head. “You couldn’t be clearer about your distaste for Wellingford. That’s hardly nice.”

“My disliking this place has nothing to do with being nice. This town is small and cloying and everyone here has been stuck in a rut since the lumber mill opened up a few hundred years ago.” Too late, he realized he had just included Bri in the insult.

She finally turned in her seat to face him. “Is that so? And what’s so wrong with working a legitimate job and making a living? Or the people who want a life where they know their neighbors? Or that some of us like not having to worry about locking our doors at night?”

He winced. Yep. She’d caught the unintended insult. “I—”

She spoke right over him. “Yes, people like to gossip and keep tabs on each other, but that’s what family does. At least you have one, even if you ran away from it.”

Setting aside the implication that she didn’t have a family for now, he growled. “I didn’t run away.”

“To hear Drew tell of it, you barely waited a week after graduation to up and leave.”

Yeah, because he couldn’t stand one more day of being known as Drunk Billy’s youngest boy, always causing trouble, never quite doing a damn thing right no matter how hard he tried. Burning down the high school—accidentally or not—had just been the straw that broke the camel’s back.

That didn’t mean that this little spitfire could look down her adorable nose at everything he’d accomplished since. “There’s nothing wrong with joining the military and doing something useful with my life.”

“You’re right. There isn’t. It’s admirable.” She didn’t give him time to deal with the shock of her actually agreeing with him. “How many times have you been home in the last ten years?”

From her tone, she already knew the answer. Twice. Once for his old man’s funeral, and once for Drew’s graduation from the police academy. Needing to get the topic off himself—and away from her goddamn judgment—he turned the tables. “You know, from the way Drew described you, I didn’t expect an interrogation.”

She huffed again as he pulled into the restaurant parking lot. He’d picked the Italian place on the outskirts of town, hoping to minimize the chance of running into anyone he knew. If he thought he could have gotten away with driving all the way into Williamsport, he would. But it was nearly forty minutes away, and he didn’t think he could handle being closeted in this SUV with Bri that long. He kept catching the faintest strain of her perfume, something light and floral, and it was distracting as hell. Annoyed that he’d even noticed, he spoke without thinking. “That said, for a mousy librarian, you sure have a mouth on you.”

…

Mousy librarian. He really wasn’t pulling any punches. Bri gripped her purse as she started for the restaurant, and she nearly gasped when he pressed a hand to the small of her back and guided her through the door. She glanced at him, half expecting to see… She wasn’t sure what. But there was just tight anger on his face.

What had she expected? That he was so overcome by her mousiness that he couldn’t help but touch her? She might enjoy living in the fictional worlds of her books, but she wasn’t delusional.

Knowing that didn’t help the way the heat from his hand seemed to seep through her coat and blouse and imprint itself on her skin. His thumb stroked down her spine in what must have been an accident, but it didn’t stop her from catching her breath. Was he playing with her? Look at the poor, dowdy librarian, and how she responds to the slightest touch like an overeager puppy. Pathetic.

She swatted his hand off her back, hating that she immediately missed the feel of him touching her. “Stop that.”

His mild look only made her want to spit nails. “I’m being polite.”

“Your version leaves a few things to be desired.” Mainly the “polite” part.

They followed the perky redheaded hostess back to a corner of the restaurant. Bri couldn’t help wondering if he’d purposely picked the restaurant on the farthest edge of town and called ahead and requested a spot where they were guaranteed to melt into the background and avoid every other customer in the place. He must really not want anyone to see them together.

Ryan held her chair out for her, and the suspicion that he was having one over on her only solidified. He’d spent their short time together insulting both her looks and her profession, and now he was being courteous?

It didn’t help that her body responded to him in a way she hadn’t anticipated. She wanted to blame it on the candlelight glinting off his strong jaw and those wonderful shoulders, wanted to believe the lie of intimacy created by the shadows and the way he rested his perfectly muscled forearms on the small table between them.

Because she wanted to believe it so desperately, she clung to the only ammo she had against him. “I might be a mousy librarian, but we can’t all be juvenile delinquents with firebug tendencies.”

His jaw hardened, sending a ripple of something through her lower stomach. “Too much excitement for you? Playing it safe is just another way of hiding.”

The barb struck too close to home. So what if she liked to play it safe? There was nothing wrong with wanting her adult life to have the security and roots her childhood had lacked. Maybe she’d missed a few opportunities for excitement as a result, but she regretted nothing. For him to sit there and judge her for that… “Better that than running away the first opportunity you had. Frankly, I’m surprised you didn’t up and join the circus and cement the cliché.”

“You don’t know anything about me.”

“I’ve heard enough.” As soon as she’d moved to Wellingford, she’d been entertained with stories of past events, many of which Ryan starred in. Most of those came from Drew himself, but there always seemed to be someone nearby to chip in with more when he got going.

“You and every other person in town. You’re all old maids, sitting around and telling tales of the glory days.”

Bri flinched. She’d grown up dreaming about a town like Wellingford, a place where family meant more than blood and it was finally safe to let down her guard. To have him so blatantly dismissing it—and dismissing her—stuck in her throat. “Just because you’ve seen a bit more of the world doesn’t mean you can look down on the people who live here.”

A muscle ticked in his jaw. “I’m not the only one looking down on someone here.”

“Yes, well, your opinion is pretty clear, don’t you think?”

Ryan glared. “No, I don’t think. You’ve been here about a year, am I right?”

“Fourteen months.” Not very long in the grand scheme of things, but she’d managed to put down small roots, to instate a successful children’s program in her library, and to finally start to feel like she’d found somewhere to belong.

“Exactly.” Then he lifted his menu, obviously done with the conversation.

Well, that was too damn bad. She wasn’t. “Explain, please.”

“It means Wellingford is still a novelty for you. It’s new and cute and you’ve got stars in your eyes. I don’t. I see a place where everyone is in their neighbors’ business, and you can’t make a stop at Chilly’s without everyone in town knowing about it and speculating if you have an alcohol problem.”

What? Bri made a conscious effort to close her mouth before she spoke without thinking. Why would anyone assume that he’d have an alcohol problem? She knew for a fact Drew stopped by the local bar most days after work to have a beer, and there had never been a whisper of anything like that.

The waiter approached, all smiles and cheer, giving her the much-needed break to figure out how she was supposed to respond. She ordered a red wine while she considered, while Ryan ordered Drew’s favorite locally made beer. For all his negativity toward this town and its people, he’d obviously maintained a few roots of his own.

As soon as the waiter walked away, the charm he’d conjured up fled from Ryan’s face. Before she could say anything, he charged on, “And that’s not even getting started on how every single person here is so integrated in the past that they can’t step into the future.”

“There’s nothing wrong with having an appreciation of the past. It defines us.”

“Some of us don’t want to be defined by a drunk asshole of a father, or things we did when we were snot-nosed kids.”

He said it so matter-of-factly, it took her half a second to process his words. A drunk father? She’d known Drew for nearly a year and he’d never once mentioned anything like that. All she knew was that both his parents were gone, just like hers, but he never went into the details.

She unfolded her napkin, moving slower than normal as she processed the information and held it up to what she knew of Drew and Ryan. Maybe his leaving Wellingford had more to do with leaving his father behind than leaving the town? “I’m sorry.”

He frowned, as if waiting for her to say something else. But what else could she say? She hadn’t had the easiest of childhoods, either.

The line between his brows deepened when she didn’t jump in. “Whatever you’re thinking, knock it off.”

She laid her napkin in her lap. “I was just thinking that you and I aren’t that different.”

“Get that thought right out of your head, Bri. You’re wrong. You and I are nothing alike.”

Funny, but she wasn’t so sure anymore.

Chapter Two

For all her talk of their being alike, she pitied him. Ryan could see it on her face. This was why he never came home. It didn’t matter that he’d moved on with his life and made something of himself, or that he was part of one of the most elite professions within the Air Force. They’d never see him as anything other than Ryan Flannery, Drunk Billy’s youngest boy, and the Boy Who Burned Down the High School.

The people here had no desire to know the real Ryan. The woman sitting across from him was no different. Hell, she fit in here better than he ever had.

As much as it pained him to admit, there was something about her that got under his skin. He shouldn’t care what this near stranger thought of him. She was no one.

Except he did care. It didn’t make any sense. She wasn’t flashy or oozing sex appeal like some of his exes, but she had an understated look that made him sit up and take notice.

She smiled as the waiter brought their food, and even thanked him as if she really was the sweet woman Ryan had been promised. As the man walked away, she took a bite of her spaghetti, closed her eyes, and made a sound that he’d remember to his dying day. It was a cross between a whimper and a moan and it brought to mind all sorts of thoughts he had no business entertaining.

He shifted, unable to take his gaze off her face, and equally unable to stifle his body’s reaction to her. Holy shit. She looked even softer with her eyes closed and a small smile on her face. His body went on high alert, his instincts demanding he reach across the table and touch her. He must have let some of that desire through, because when she opened her eyes, she blushed.

“Stop staring at me.”

“We’re on a date. Staring goes with the territory.” He let himself look his fill, coasting over the mass of dark hair, the blue eyes her glasses couldn’t quite hide, and those lips, rosy and too damn kissable for his frame of mind. He leaned forward, ignoring his plate. She bit her lip, looking uncomfortable with his attention. This, at least, fit with how his brother had described her. Shy. Needing to be taken out and shown a good time. Which left the question of why. “So tell me. What are you hiding from?”

Bri went rigid. “I’m not hiding from anything.”

He’d struck a sore spot, one he couldn’t help poking at again with how irritated he was by his reaction to her. “Sure you are. Look at the way you dress—”

“I am not mousy.”

“—and the way you wear your hair.” He reached across the table and twined his finger through the lock closest to her face, enjoying the way she blushed harder. He would have enjoyed it a lot more if her hair wasn’t just as soft and thick as it looked. After giving it a tug, he released her and sat back. “All signs point to you hiding. From what?”

She set her fork down and took a sip of her wine with shaking fingers. It was nice knowing he wasn’t the only one with frayed nerves. But by the time she set the glass down, her calm mask was back in place. “I have nothing to hide from.”

She was lying, which only made him more curious to know what made a woman like Bri tick. While it was obvious he wasn’t getting answers tonight, he couldn’t resist one last dig. “In that case, you’re really trying too damn hard to fit the picture of what a librarian should be. Because, seriously, you’re wearing cat-eye glasses and frumpy clothes.”

She glanced at him from under her fringe of bangs, those eyes like a kick to the gut he didn’t want to deal with. “How would you know? I doubt you’ve spent much time around books, let alone in a library full of them.”

Well, hell, that stung. “You don’t have a damn clue what you’re talking about.”

“Then why are you so angry?” She pushed her plate away. “I’m not really hungry, and I think we’ve put in enough time for this favor to be considered successful. I’m ready to go home.”

She was done, just like that? “So eager to run home and read to your fish.”

“Mr. Smith is significantly better company than I’m keeping right now.”

It figured that she’d think that. She’d started this date looking down her nose at him, and it appeared she was going to end it the same way. Ryan picked up his beer and drained the last of it. “That’s all well and good, but I’m having another beer.” Being at the same table with this woman was enough to drive a saint to drink, and he sure as fuck wasn’t that good of a man.

“Do whatever makes you happy. I’ll get a cab home.”

Like hell she would. That was just what he needed—her telling Drew he was being an ass, and then having to explain to his brother and Avery why things had gone so horribly wrong. He would rather get her home and forget this shit ever happened. With a sigh, he motioned her back down. “Relax. I’ll pay the tab and drive you home. No need to get your panties in a twist.”

Her knuckles went white where they clutched her purse. “My panties are none of your concern.”

Their bill arrived and he pulled out his wallet. “Honey, if there wasn’t such a large stick up your ass, you’d be begging me to rip off those lily-white granny panties—with my teeth.” She gasped, but he ignored her response and pushed to his feet. “But that might be too much excitement for a prickly little librarian like you.”

…

By the time Ryan pulled up in front of her house, Bri was ready to throw herself from the SUV to get away from her own mind. His words had sparked her imagination in the worst way possible. All she could picture was him kneeling before her, his huge shoulders parting her legs, and pressing his mouth against her there. No one had ever done that to her before, so she’d never felt the loss. Now? Now she clenched her legs together in an effort to tell herself she didn’t need it.

All the while, he sat there in the driver’s seat, sending off waves of… She wasn’t really sure what. Anger? Annoyance? Lust? Whatever it was, it was too charged to be labeled heat.

And that parting line right before they left the restaurant? How dare he! The insult hit even closer to home because just imagining him kissing her between her legs made her entire body shake. Actually doing it in real life might kill her. Heck yes, it was too much excitement. What was so wrong with that? This was the first date—even if they’d hit it off, there was no possibility of things going further than a good-night kiss.

She should have stayed home and finished her book. At least then she’d be guaranteed to be spending her time with a man who wasn’t pushing every single one of her buttons—only the button guaranteed to spin her out of her mind with pleasure.

Instead of driving off like she wished he would, Ryan got out of the car and walked her to the porch door, his hand once again settling on the small of her back. How could he do that, cut her legs out from beneath her and then touch her with such a casual possessiveness? She brushed against him with every step, his cologne making her want to move closer and press her nose against his neck.

What was she thinking? She could barely stand this man. She had no business considering pressing any part of her against any part of him. Unless it was her front door to his face.

They reached the steps of her porch. He held the screen door open for her and ushered her through. It should have been romantic, standing there in the soft light with the wind rustling the tall bushes surrounding her screened-in front porch. If they were in her book right now, the entire night would have been working toward this very second.

They were most definitely not in a romance novel.

“I would say it’s been a pleasure,” she said, “but I don’t make a habit of lying.”

“Of course you don’t. You’re practically a goddamn saint, aren’t you?”

She poked a finger into his chest. “It’s not being a saint to expect a little conversational courtesy on a date. You’ve gone and shot all that to hell. Don’t think for a second you’re getting a good-night kiss.”

“A kiss from you?” He stepped forward into her finger, forcing her to open her hand against his chest or take a step back. She refused to budge. He leaned down, crowding her. “I’d rather kiss a snake.”

“Then it’s too bad it’s winter, because they’re in short supply.” She pushed at his chest again, nearly snarling when he didn’t move. “You should just burn something else down. That might draw a few to the heat.”

“Or maybe I’ll just set fire to your goddamn granny panties. That’s sure to create a big enough blaze.”

Her jaw dropped open and she swallowed hard. “As if you could.”

“Watch me.”

He grabbed her hips and yanked her against him. Bri gasped. There was so much heat in his blue eyes, it was a wonder every single article of clothing she wore didn’t go up in smoke. “You—”

But then she saw it. The challenge hidden behind the heat. He didn’t think she could handle this. Handle him.

His mouth curled into a smirk, and his hands tightened on her hips. The feel of his fingers digging into her flesh through the thin fabric of her skirt made her want to throw all caution to the wind. He thought he’d won, did he?

“Screw it.” She grabbed the lapels of his shirt and went up on her tiptoes to smash her lips against his. He froze, then stumbled backward and slammed into the wall of her screened porch, taking her with him. A wave of victory went through her. For all his talk, he hadn’t expected her to make a move. She moved one hand to the back of his neck and tipped his head down so she could set her teeth into his bottom lip.

Just like that, he came alive in her arms and pulled her tighter against him. His tongue delved into her mouth, stroking hers with no hesitation, igniting her passion until she couldn’t fight back a moan. How could one giant brute taste so decadent? She slid her tongue along his, not sure if she was searching for an answer or simply enjoying the way her very nerves seemed to spark and dance at every place they touched.

Would her whole body do that if they were naked?

Whoa. Where had that thought come from? She was proving him wrong, not jumping into bed with the man. She tried to pull away. “I think—”

“Stop talking.” Ryan cupped her backside and devoured her mouth, grinding her against…holy hell. Her entire body went soft, knees weakening until it was only his firm grip that kept her from melting to a puddle at his feet. She’d been kissed before, but nothing like this. Never like this. She looped her arms around his neck, suddenly sure that getting closer was the only cure for the warmth pulsing through her body. It wasn’t enough, not with his tongue doing wicked things to her mouth and his body a hard counterpoint to her own.

She made a desperate noise in the back of her throat, and he responded by taking two large steps back and sinking onto the porch swing. The new position left her straddling him, and her flowy skirt immediately got in the way, bunching between their bodies and creating yet another barrier. They groaned together when she shifted, yanking the fabric up so she had access to his hard length. When she rocked against him, he groaned again and grabbed the arm of the swing.

“Hey. Keep your pyro hands off my house.”

His big hands moved under her shirt and up her sides to cup her breasts. Bri only had a moment to thank God it was dark enough that he wouldn’t notice the plain cotton bra before he pulled the cups down so he could stroke her nipples. “The only place my hands are going to be is here.” He squeezed her breasts and then reached down to press his palm against the vee between her legs. “And here.”

“Oh.” She rocked against him again as he kissed down her neck, his fingers stoking the need inside her until it was almost a pain. His whiskers rasped over her skin, and she whimpered. “Please, Ryan. Please.” She wasn’t even sure what she was begging him for, only that she needed it and needed it now.

“I’ll give you what you need. I promise.” He pulled her shirt over her head, his mouth leaving her skin barely long enough for the fabric to slide past. Then Ryan unhooked her bra and dropped it somewhere behind her.

Oh dear God, I’m nearly naked on my front porch. His lips closed around her nipple and her entire ability to reason shorted out, along with any worries she had about giving her neighbors a show. As his tongue slid over her, she shivered. This was… There were no words.

How could there be no words?

“Not enough,” he muttered against her skin.

“What?”

His only answer was to stand up, pull her legs around his waist, and set her back on the swing, going to his knees in front of her. Bri met his gaze, very aware that she was topless with her skirt shoved up around her waist. She should have felt exposed and embarrassed, but all she could see was her own need reflected in his eyes. Ryan reached up to cup her face. “Are you sure—?”

She was already nodding. They couldn’t stop now, not when she was poised on this precipice. To ensure he didn’t get any crazy ideas, she leaned forward and kissed him again. It felt so terrifyingly good, better than the best kind of chocolate, the kind of thing she may never get enough of. “Please don’t stop touching me, Ryan. Please.”

Chapter Three

It was her whispered “please” that did him in. Ryan might not have been with anyone in a pathetically long time, but the women he had been with were nothing like Bri. They smiled and flirted and played the game. He’d enjoyed it—enjoyed them—but all those experiences paled compared to this one. Bri didn’t play games, nor did she mince words. She did not like him, plain and simple.

But that changed the moment she’d kissed him. In his arms, the prickly little spitfire flipped a switch and went soft and sweet, her body seeming to beg for his touch the same way she’d begged aloud. It made him feel ten feet tall, a primal part of him rising to the fore and roaring its triumph, despite the fact that five minutes ago he’d been ready to shove her into her house and bust ass driving away from there. Now he was drunk off her, as if he’d downed half a fifth of whiskey during their date instead of one beer.

He couldn’t get enough.

He didn’t want to.

Ryan skimmed his hands over her nipples and stomach, her skin so soft and smelling of some type of flower he couldn’t name, and down to the band of her skirt. It was so long its excessive fabric got in the way. He wanted the damn thing off. Wanted her naked. Her shaking hands undid the hook at the side and helped him slide it away. He nearly laughed at the absurdity of her white cotton panties being the most erotic thing he’d ever seen, but he was too distracted by his need to taste her there.

When he pressed his mouth against the fabric, her entire body went taut. As if he’d hooked her up to his car battery and revved the engine. “OhmyGod.” She sounded so shocked, he almost stopped, but then a moan slipped free. “Oh my God.”

Ryan started to lift his head, but she grabbed his hair and towed him right back to where he’d been. “Don’t you dare stop.”

Well, hell, there wasn’t much arguing he could do with that, so he yanked off her goddamn panties. Her hips moved against his lips as little sounds slipped from her mouth, urging him on. Deciding this was no time for taking it slow, he zeroed in on her clit.

She went wild beneath him. “Oh, oh, holy oh sweet Jesus oh my God.”

It was only when she stopped shuddering that he rested his forehead against her stomach, his cock so hard he was cursing himself a thousand times over for wearing these stupid slacks.

“Wow.”

The sheer wonder in her voice made him glance up. Bri looked shell-shocked despite her half-closed eyes. This woman, so soft and wanton, was nothing like the buttoned-up priss he’d been on a date with all night. He’d done this to her. He looked at her disheveled hair and now-crooked glasses, and ran his hands over her thighs, his satisfaction nearly a match for hers. Her lips were plumped and practically begging for another kiss, so he didn’t bother to resist giving her one. She moaned against his mouth. “I want to feel your skin against mine.”

That, he could do. He dragged off his shirt, and she responded by immediately running her hands down his chest. “Oh my.”

While he was all about her appreciation, he was more worried about how damn good she felt against him. Ryan licked her neck, earning another shiver. She let her head fall back to rest on top of the swing, giving him better access. “I need—”

“I do, too.” He shifted, freeing up one hand to push a finger into her. She was so goddamn tight, clenching around him even as she rolled her hips to take him deeper. He cursed. “I can finish you like this. It doesn’t have to be sex.”

She gasped when he crooked his finger inside her. “Do you have condoms?”

Was this one of those catch-22 questions? He couldn’t think enough to worry about it. “I have one in my wallet.”

“At least you’re doing something right tonight. Get it.”

“Bri…”

“Please don’t stop. Please.”

“I’m not going to stop.” Not until she was coming around his cock.

Ryan undid his slacks and wrestled them off, all without taking his mouth from her neck. With the death grip she had on his shoulders, he would have had to fight her off to do so anyway. Once he was as naked as she was, he tore open the wrapper and rolled the condom on. Holy shit, this was really happening. He kissed her as he positioned himself between her legs, notching his cock against her entrance. Slow. He had to go slow or he was going to hurt her.

Too bad Bri hadn’t gotten that memo. She grabbed his hips and used the momentum of the swing to shove him deeper, sheathing him to the hilt. Before he could recover from the shock stealing his ability to speak, her eyes went wide. “That feels so good, Ryan.”

Hearing his name on her lips rocked him to his core. He grabbed to keep her still. If she kept moving like that, he was going to lose what little control he had left. Apparently she didn’t share his concern because she dug her nails into his forearms. “God, I didn’t know it could be like this.”

With her skin reflecting the dim porch light, her breasts shaking as she tried to move on his cock, her eyes defiant behind the glasses she’d somehow managed to keep on through all this… It took a full five seconds to register her words. He was the only one to ever make her lose control. The only one. Ryan tipped up her chin until she met his gaze. “You didn’t know it could be this good? I’m just getting started. Forget setting your panties on fire. I’m going to ruin you for any other man.”

…

Bri was so desperate, she was about to start begging. Again. How could he sit here and talk while she was going out of her mind? She squeezed his forearms one last time, digging in her nails a little bit more, and barely resisted screaming in his face, Then do it!

The only warning she got was Ryan changing his grip and then he was moving, sliding out of her and back in again. Despite his bold words, he kept the pace torturously slow, his hard length rubbing on places she hadn’t even known existed, building a steady pressure in her core. She moved, using the swing to meet his thrusts, chasing the feeling. It was different from last time, spiraling through her with every stroke. “Ryan…”

He let go of one hip to pull her up until her mouth brushed his. “Say my name again.”

This new position had her clit grinding against him, sending shock waves of pleasure through her. She clutched his shoulders, trying to get closer to achieve that kiss, but he kept himself just out of reach. “Say my name, Bri.”

“Ryan.” She moved against him, desperate to reach that point of no return. The feeling was only intensified by his hands on her skin and every muscle tense against her. And then the world disappeared as she buried her face against his neck and screamed.

He twined her hair around his fist before she had a chance to recover and pulled her head back to look into her eyes. She felt owned in that moment, as if he saw down to the very foundation of her soul. The shock in his eyes didn’t make her feel better about what he must have seen. He shuddered, holding her in a near-bruising grip, drawing out his orgasm until he dropped his head to her shoulder.

Which is about when she processed exactly what she’d just done.

She’d just had sex with a near stranger on her front porch. Judging from her one and only other sexual experience, she should be feeling a toxic mix of self-hate and embarrassment for letting things get so out of control. Instead, all she felt was a strange sort of languid satisfaction. She wanted to stretch and rub against him, dragging as much of her skin as she could against his. With a sigh, she opened her eyes…and looked right into Ryan’s familiar deep blue ones.

Oh my God, I just slept with Drew’s brother.

The very same man she’d been fighting with not half an hour ago. She’d gotten out of that SUV planning never to see him again, and ended up getting naked with him on her porch swing instead.

Drew and Avery were never going to let her live it down.

Suddenly the only thing she cared about was getting away from him. “So, um… Thanks for that.”

He frowned. “That’s the best you’ve got?”

Frankly, at this point she was surprised she could talk at all. She pushed at his chest, her body giving a cry of protest when he backed up. It was just the cold getting to her. It had nothing to do with wanting to tackle him to the porch and start this whole process over again. She snatched her clothes up and dug her key out of her purse, trying to ignore the fact that he was standing behind her, as completely naked as she was.

Ryan may have been good-looking and his touch may have made her thought processes short out, but they were totally incompatible. And he was leaving soon. Even if she were interested—which she most definitely wasn’t—it wouldn’t be more than a fling.

Bri was not the kind of woman who indulged in flings.

Then again, she’d never considered herself a candidate for one-night stands, either.

She stepped into her house and forced a smile. “You know, the town was right about you. You really are a fire-starter.”

And then she slammed the door in his face.

…

Ryan stared at the closed door, half-convinced he was missing something. No way in hell had he just had his mind blown by this woman, only to have her pat him on his head and leave him alone on the front porch. He glanced down.

Alone and naked on her porch.

Both the interior and exterior lights clicked off, leaving him in near-complete darkness. Fucking fantastic. He yanked on his clothing and marched out the porch door, cursing himself for being an idiot. The only reason this entire mess had happened was because she caught him off guard. And, holy shit, had she caught him off guard. He hadn’t expected her to rise to the challenge he’d issued, and he sure as fuck hadn’t expected his reaction to it—to any of it.

It was probably a blessing she’d run off, because he wasn’t sure he’d have been able to control himself enough to walk away, no matter how much his attraction to her didn’t make sense.

Good riddance.

Ryan slammed his Suburban door and cranked the engine. He’d be lucky if this didn’t hit the Wellingford gossip mill by morning, one more clusterfuck to add to the already-stellar reputation he couldn’t escape. “I hate goddamn small towns.”

The trip back to his brother’s house didn’t take nearly enough time, but if he didn’t show up there would be hell to pay. Drew wasn’t exactly known for minding his own business, being the town sheriff and all, and Ryan wouldn’t put it past him to call Bri to get the whole messed-up story. With his luck, she’d spin it to sound like he took advantage of her—the exact opposite of what actually happened.

He should’ve had something stronger at dinner. Beer was not enough for this shit.

Ryan headed for the front door, but nearly turned around when he registered that all the lights were on. Great. Exactly what he needed. He took a fortifying breath and pushed open the door.

Drew and Avery had his brother’s game console hooked up with what looked like DDR—Dance Dance Revolution—and Ryan was so ashamed he even knew what that was to begin with. They stood side by side, feet flying over the arrows on the pad they’d set up on the ground. It was a throwback from when they were all kids, always trying to one-up one another and finding weird-ass games to accomplish it. He’d thought they’d have grown out of it while he was gone, but obviously that wasn’t the case.

Though he tried to slip down the hallway while they were distracted, Avery let out a whoop. “Ryan’s home!”

Shit. He’d wanted to shower before he had this talk because he could still smell Bri on his skin and it was driving him nuts. But it wasn’t like he could tell them that. He glared at his brother. “You’re an asshole.”

Drew shut off the game and dropped onto the couch. “What’d I do?”

Avery snagged the beer out of his hand and took a long drink. “Don’t just lurk in the hallway. Get in here and tell us the dirty details. Were we right? You two hit it off like apples and oranges, didn’t you? When are you seeing Bri again?”

Drew rolled his eyes. “Kind of hard to get the story when he can’t get a word in edgewise.”

“Hush, you.”

Since they were about to devolve into bickering, Ryan should have made his escape. Problem was, he had to have this conversation sooner or later, so he might as well do it while they were partially distracted. “I’m not seeing her again.”

They stopped talking and turned to face him. Drew frowned. “Why not?”

Avery shoved her long black hair back into a ponytail like she was about to throw down. “What did you do?”

“How the hell do you know it was his fault?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Probably because Bri is one of the nicest people we know, and she would bend over backward to not step on anyone’s toes.”

Drew seemed to think about it. “You’re right.” He turned to Ryan. “What did you do?”

Him? He hadn’t done a goddamn thing except get whiplash from the woman’s sharp tongue. “Can we focus on the fact that this is your fault? The only reason I was on that date to begin with was as a favor to you.”

And what a clusterfuck of a date it’d been. He still couldn’t decide if the way it ended was the ultimate “screw you” from Bri, or something that made that torturous dinner worthwhile. The woman was confusing as hell, from the way she tore him a new one at every opportunity, to the way she begged him to put his hands on her.

“But…you’re perfect for each other.” Avery handed Drew back his beer and frowned. “You’re like…disgustingly perfect for each other. She needs someone who’s going to be strong and steady and stand by her while expanding her horizons. You need someone who’s going to create a home you actually want to come back to.” She waved her hands like a magician. “See? Perfect.”

“You’re crazy.” He turned and stalked down the hallway, leaving them to their game.

The worst part was they had clicked once their clothes came off. He’d never felt like that when he’d been with women in the past, the primitive satisfaction of knowing he was the only one who made her body spark to life. That look in her eyes as she came was branded in his mind, completely at odds with how she’d been at dinner. It didn’t make any sense, because he was pretty sure he didn’t even like Bri.

One thing was certain—she thought this was over and done with between them. Well, he damn well didn’t. He wanted to know which was the real Bri—the snarling harpy from their date or the sweet, sexy thing from the porch—and the only way to do that was to see her again. They were going to talk this out, even if he had to lock her in a room to do it.

Chapter Four

By the time Avery’s birthday party rolled around two days later, Bri was desperate for anything to distract her from memories of her night with Ryan. She’d gone through two sets of batteries, thanks to her buzzy friend Avery got her for Christmas, and her libido was showing no signs of slowing down. Years of reading racy romance novels had given her more than her fair share of erotic inspiration, though the man she imagined now shared Ryan’s face and body.

The birthday party was exactly what she needed. It would be impossible to think about sex surrounded by her friends and Avery’s super-traditional family. If her best friend’s grandfather couldn’t put a damper on any situation, Bri didn’t know who could. Damage control alone would keep her busy for a few hours.

Or so she thought until she pulled up to Chilly’s Bar and Grill and her headlights caught Ryan’s beat-up old Suburban. She mentally kicked herself. Of course he would be here. He and Drew had grown up with Avery. And it’s not like he had the decency to spare her the humiliation of facing what they’d done.

She could do this. There would be plenty of other people around. There was no reason she even had to exchange words with him.

Satisfied she had the situation well under control, she grabbed the massive collection of balloons filling her tiny car and climbed out. Snow crunched under her boots, and she slipped. She grabbed the top of her car with her free hand, but there was no stopping her downward momentum. She slid right down the side and landed on the ground, clutching the balloons in a death grip. “Crap.”

Maybe no one had seen?

“You’re doing that thing again—the one where you personify the librarian cliché.”

She closed her eyes, wishing she could just melt into the surrounding snow. It would be her terrible luck that the one person she wanted to avoid was the one who saw her make a spectacle of herself. Embarrassment heated her as she struggled to her feet, smacking the bobbing balloons out of her face. And there Ryan was, leaning against the wall of Chilly’s with his arms crossed over his chest, looking particularly attractive with his dark jeans, boots, and thick green coat.

She shook off her skirt and glared. “I don’t think you should be throwing stones. An Army coat? Really?”

“Air Force.”

She knew that. Drew never stopped bragging about how his little brother had made it through one of the toughest boot camps any of the military branches had to offer, or how he was a genuine hero—the man who saved other heroes.

That didn’t mean she was going to stand here and let him look down on her for preferring to spend her time surrounded by books rather than out in the world going on adventures. “Same difference.”

“Still sticking with that same song and dance, I see.”

“Why would I suddenly change my tune?”

“I could think of a few reasons.”

She tried to fight down a blush as a vivid memory of exactly why swept through her mind. But she refused to be that woman, the one who had sex with a man and then suddenly fell all over herself to become whatever it was he wanted. “That’s so strange. I can’t think of a single thing. Have you burned anything down recently?”

His mouth tightened, but she was saved from whatever he was about to say by Avery appearing in the doorway. “What are you doing standing out in the cold? Get your ass in here.” She glanced over and did a double take when she saw Ryan. “Uh, unless you want to stay outside. In that case, carry on.”

She thanked God for the opportunity to escape without looking like she was escaping. “I was just on my way in.” She gathered the balloons more firmly in her hand and followed Avery inside, leaving Ryan to brood in peace alone.

“Sorry I interrupted.”

“Don’t be. There was nothing to interrupt.” It tasted like a lie, but she wasn’t going to let the encounter with him set the tone for the rest of the party. She smiled at Avery. “Happy birthday, by the way.”

“I suppose.”

She stopped walking and looked at her friend. There were dark circles under her brown eyes and her skin was unnaturally pale. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Except my yé-ye just made his usual pointed comments about how I’m the last person in the family who can carry on the honor of procreating and keeping our heritage going, if only I’d stop being so stubborn and settle down with a nice Chinese man.” It all came out in a single breath, and she actually sagged against the wall as if it’d taken all her strength to say it. “And I’m twenty-six. That’s a whole year closer to twenty-eight. I feel like I’m running out of time.”

She should have seen this coming. It was bad enough that Avery’s mother had been diagnosed with uterine cancer at twenty-eight, but her older sister, Alexis, had, too. Every birthday was like a ticking time bomb for Avery, counting down the days until she had to get a hysterectomy. Bri let the balloons go and hugged her friend. “It’s going to be okay. Your grandpa can jump off a cliff, because your worth isn’t tied up in making pure-blooded Chinese babies for him. Even saying that sounds so wrong.”

She laughed. “Yeah, I know. And to be honest, I’m less worried about making him happy than, you know, actually making the babies. I want some.”

It was a totally understandable desire—one Bri shared. “We’ll figure it out.”

Drew appeared in the doorway leading into the rest of the bar. “What are you two doing hiding in the hallway? Is this one of those girl bonding moments?” He glanced between them and brightened. “Or are you going to make out? Because I can get on board with that.”

“You’re a pig.” Avery let go of Bri and straightened her spine. Typical of her to show only a moment of weakness before charging on with life.

“Oink.” He met Bri’s gaze as Avery walked past, and she recognized the concern there he’d never let their friend see. Drew was great at distracting people with his dirty jokes and wry humor, but his carefree attitude masked a lot of things.

After the revelation with Ryan and his family’s past last night, she couldn’t help but wonder what else she didn’t know about Drew.

“What’s Avery’s problem?”

As if the thought of Ryan had conjured the man himself, his voice washed over her body, all warm, and deep, and decadent. Bri spun around, hating that he’d managed to sneak through the door and surprise her. Did he have to look so… God, there weren’t words for what he looked like.

He crossed the distance between them, worry written over his face. “Is she okay?”

Right. He wasn’t as affected by her presence as she was by his. Better to remember that if she was going to keep her panties where they belonged—something made more difficult by the way he seemed to care about Avery as much as his brother did, at least in his own way. She squared her shoulders and grabbed the balloons within easy reach. “She’ll be fine. She’s just going through a rough patch.”

Before he could ask her anything else to weaken her resolve, she hurried through the door and followed Drew and Avery into the bar.

…

She was afraid to be alone with him. He couldn’t decide if that counted as a victory or a defeat, so Ryan snatched up the rest of the balloons and walked into Chilly’s main room. He’d waited outside because he knew it was only a matter of time before his favorite little librarian showed up, though they’d been interrupted before things could get interesting. That was fine. He had all evening to push Bri’s buttons. He could be patient.

He searched for a chair, pleased to find the only open one sandwiched between Drew and Bri. She looked horrified when he settled into the seat beside her, purposely brushing against her side as he made himself comfortable. Good.

Avery’s dad waved from his place at the head of the table. “Hey, Ryan. Destroy anything since you’ve been back in town?”

Ryan sighed, and as everyone at the table laughed and laughed, he officially regretted coming home. His frustration peaked when he glanced at Bri. Her eyebrows were raised and a smirk twisted up one side of her lips. Of course she would sit there looking so damn superior—the entire room wasn’t laughing at her.

He reached under the table and squeezed her thigh. “Actually, yeah. I’ve been burning up some panties lately.”

Avery’s dad looked stunned, and her grandparents glared, but everyone else laughed. Everyone except Bri, who blushed a deep red and smacked his hand away. Good. She should know what it meant to be a resident of Wellingford. It wasn’t always a positive experience. He nodded at Avery’s sister, who sat across the table. “Hey, Alexis.”

“Hey.” She didn’t look much happier than Avery.

“How are things? When’s the wedding?”

If Bri’s elbow in his stomach wasn’t enough of a hint, the way Alexis looked sick told him he’d fucked up. She gave him a smile that was so fake his teeth hurt. “Eric and I didn’t work out.”

Ryan Flannery strikes again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay.” She shot a look at her grandparents, and sighed. “Mostly okay. Excuse me, please.” Then she was gone, making her way in the direction of the bathroom.

He sat back, feeling like the world’s biggest ass. “I didn’t know,” he said again.

“It’s a recent thing. Don’t worry about it,” Drew said, then turned to field a question from Avery’s grandmother.

“You would have known if you weren’t so busy running away from this place.” Bri spoke so softly he almost didn’t catch her words.

“For the last time, I’m not running from anything.” He smoothed her hair off her shoulder. “I sure as hell didn’t run from you the other night.”

Bri huffed out a breath and reached for her water. She fumbled it, knocking the glass over—and into his lap. Ryan cursed and she stammered out something that might have been an apology, followed by, “I can’t believe this is happening.” She grabbed a handful of napkins from the dispenser in the middle of the table and started dabbing at his crotch.

He groaned, instantly going harder than a steel pike as she patted him. She was so busy trying to clean up her mess, she didn’t seem to realize what part of him she was spending so much time stroking until he cleared his throat.

Bri froze. “Oh crap.”

He pulled the wet napkins from her suddenly limp hands. “This was fun, but I can take it from here.”

Her goddamn perfume teased him much the same way her pink lips did, tantalizing and yet subtle. She finally looked at his face and frowned. “You’re doing it again.”

“Doing what?” He knew exactly what she meant, but he wanted to see if she’d actually call him out on it. “I didn’t knock over your water—you did.”

“You’re staring at me like you’re thinking—” She blushed and frowned harder. “Knock it off.”

“You’re projecting. I wonder why?” He abandoned the napkins and traced a finger up her thigh, chuckling when she shivered. “Could it be that you recently had your mind blown?”

She elbowed his side again. “Shut up. We’re in public.”

“That didn’t bother you the last time we were together.” Nor did his touch, since she hadn’t shoved away his hand yet. Interesting.

“Oh my God, will you stop talking?”

“It’s not my fault someone has their panties in a twist.” He trailed his hand higher than was proper and squeezed her thigh. A flush stole over her chest, creating a fascinating contrast to her white V-neck T-shirt.

She leaned in, kissably close. “Don’t think for a second that you had more than a passing effect on my panties.”

The heat and unmistakable challenge in her eyes was all too similar to the other night on the porch, right before she’d called his bluff and kissed him. It wouldn’t take much to shove her over the edge again. He opened his mouth, though he couldn’t say for sure if he was going to push her away or closer…

Drew cleared his throat. He leaned on the table, his gaze jumping from Ryan to Bri and back again. “Is there something I should know?”

“I…” She went red and then pale. “Excuse me. I need some fresh air.” And then she was gone, moving so quickly she was almost running.

“What the hell was that about?” Drew said, though his face said enough—he knew. Goddamn it. His brother shook his head. “You sure know how to clear a room—and you didn’t even use any stink bombs this time.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Ryan pushed out of his chair and headed for the door, cursing when his wet pants clung to his hips. Even as he pushed out into the cold night air, he told himself he wasn’t chasing Bri down. But when he saw her leaning against almost the same stretch of wall he had earlier, he walked over. “Listen—”

“No, you listen.” She stepped up and smacked her hands against his chest—and then left them there. “I don’t care what happened the other night. It’s not going to happen again.”

“Who said I wanted it to happen again?” He did, though. He wanted to kiss his way across the flushed skin of her chest and pull down her shirt to taste her nipples. Just one more time.

“Why, you!” She shoved at his chest, but he didn’t move. “You’re insufferable—an arrogant ass of a man and—”

“You want me.” He stepped into her and put his hands on her hips, mimicking the way they’d stood the other night before things got so out of control. Bri froze, her body tensed as if she couldn’t decide whether to kiss him or run back into the bar. He didn’t give her time to decide. He pulled her closer, until she could feel just how much she affected him. “You want me so bad, you can’t see straight. You’ve touched yourself thinking about me. And all you can think about is how badly you want to do it again.”

She licked her lips. “You have a very high opinion of yourself.”

“Am I wrong?” He reached down to cup her ass, grinding her against him, loving the way her lips parted in response. “Tell me I’m wrong and it’s done.”

She moved closer, her breasts pressing more firmly against his chest. “Stop talking and kiss me already.”

He crushed her against him, and it felt so terrifyingly good to take her mouth and have those luscious lips pressed against his again. They both groaned at the first stroke of tongue against tongue. Her arms went around his neck and he squeezed her ass. She may have been hell-bent on hiding beneath her frumpy sweaters and loose skirts, but her behind was goddamn biteable.

“Not here.”

She kissed him again before he could respond, and it took a truly outstanding amount of self-control to break it. “My SUV.”

“Okay.” She let him back them off the curb and to his vehicle. He had to release her long enough to open the door and climb into the driver’s seat, but then Ryan lifted her in with him. The large front seat gave her plenty of room to straddle his hips, and he groaned when she pressed against his cock.

But she didn’t kiss him again. “Can you pull around back or something? Someone might see.”

As much as he didn’t like the idea of being her dirty little secret, he also didn’t need his brother or Avery seeing them go at it, either. “Sure.”

He locked her against his body and put the Suburban in drive. The openmouthed kisses he dragged along her neck were rewarded when she went soft with a cry. This was the Bri he wanted to spend more time with, the one who softened her sharp comments with touches that made his head spin. The one who challenged him until he was so angry he couldn’t see straight, then flipped the switch and told him he was the only man to make her come until she lost her mind. She ran her hands over his chest and pulled his chin up for another kiss. It was the kind of soul-destroying kiss that a man could sink into until he didn’t know which way was up. He met her tongue, thrust for thrust, and reached between them to pull her skirt up until he touched skin.

“Mmm.” She slid against his hand as he cupped her through her panties. The heat of her there damn near scalded him through his wet pants. He glanced down and choked back a laugh. Uniform blue briefs. He wanted his mouth against the soaked cotton until her cries filled the SUV. But not yet. Not until they found somewhere to finish this.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t take things a step further. Ryan slid his hand up and then back down her stomach, dipping into her panties so he could cup her again, this time with nothing between them. She moaned and tilted her hips, offering him everything. He teased her, tracing her opening without penetrating. She grabbed his hand, pressing him more firmly against her, and managed to open her eyes. “This doesn’t mean I like you.”

“Good.” He shifted her enough to see the road over her shoulder, and took a left turn. Once they were on the straightaway, he pushed a finger into her, immediately rewarded when she cried out. “Because I don’t particularly like you, either.”

“I can tell.” She nibbled on his neck, her breath coming harsher with each stroke of his fingers. “God, why do you smell so good? It should be illegal. I can’t think when you’re around.”

“Noted.” He spread her wetness around and circled her clit. “Pull down your shirt.”

“What?”

He thrust his fingers into her, two this time. “Just a little bit. I want to see those pale little nipples.”

For a second, she looked like she might say no, but he kept working her with his hand and she bit her lip. “Don’t let this go to your head.”

“Honey, the only thing my head is interested in is getting inside you.”

She reached up and tugged her V-neck down, baring her breasts to him. He forgot about driving. He forgot that he might not actually like Bri. He forgot damn near everything but the need to get his mouth on her. He leaned forward and captured her left nipple.

She gripped his shoulders, her hips moving in time with his fingers. “Keep doing that.”

“I’m not stopping.”

“Thank God.” Another moan. “Mmmmm…oh my God, Ryan, we’re sliding!”

His eyes snapped open just as the SUV hit a massive patch of ice. Ryan cursed and held Bri to his chest as he fought for control of the vehicle. It was no use. They slid through the intersection, past the drugstore and the coffee shop. Despite how slowly they were moving and his pumping the brakes, they hit the stoplight pole. The impact barely shuddered through the vehicle, anticlimactic after Bri’s scream.

For one eternal second, he thought that would be it. That he’d be able to throw it in reverse and get the hell out of there before anyone could laugh at him for destroying yet another piece of Wellington’s property. But then the pole gave a startling creak, and shook. “Oh, shit.”

Bri screamed again when it came crashing down, taking out the blue mailbox in front of the post office. “Oh my God, oh my God. This is not happening.”

Less than thirty seconds later, a siren cut through the air. She scrambled off him and into the passenger seat, but he should have told her it was no use. For someone to have called his brother this fast, they had to have watched the whole thing. There was no escaping what was coming.

Drew jumped out of his cruiser and ran around the hood to their Suburban. Ryan helpfully opened the driver’s door and then his brother was there. “Is everyone okay?”

“We’re fine.” More or less.

“Uh-huh.” He looked from Bri to Ryan. “Mind telling me what happened? Last I saw, you two were at each other’s throats and now you’re involved in a car accident. Not going to lie, it doesn’t look good.”

Ryan was about to tell his brother where to stick it, but Bri started babbling before he could get a word out. “Ryan was just driving me home. And then… Then we saw a mountain lion! And he swerved to avoid it, because who wants to hit a mountain lion, but hit the traffic light instead.”

“A mountain lion.” It was painfully obvious Drew was trying not to laugh. He glanced at Ryan’s still-wet crotch. “Is that what they’re calling it these days?”

Bri blushed. “It’s not what you think.”

“Actually, Miss Nora Lee over at the coffee shop says it’s exactly what I think. She called and said she saw two teenagers necking while driving and then they committed public property damage. Imagine my surprise when I arrived to find my brother and Bri, who claim to hate each other.”

“We do.” She looked like she was ready to climb over his lap and clock Drew. “Don’t you dare go spreading this story around.”

“I don’t have to. I figure by now Nora has called half the town.”

“Of course she has.” Some things never changed. Ryan leaned back against the headrest and closed his eyes. Even then, there was no missing his brother’s laughter.

“Damn, Ryan. Only back four days and already taking out the only stoplight and mailbox in town in one fell swoop. That’s got to be a new record, even for you.”

“Fuck off.”

Chapter Five

“So I know you’ve made your stance on Ryan really, really clear, despite some seriously compelling evidence…”

Bri held the phone away from her ear and groaned. Ever since the party, Avery had been making jokes about the first mountain lion sighting in a century and updating her on the stoplight and mailbox repair. As if she needed any help walking down memory lane to how thoughts of Ryan had taken over her life. But yesterday she’d sat Avery down and reiterated that she had absolutely no interest in Ryan. She thought she’d gotten through to her friend.

She should have known better.

It didn’t help that she’d fielded not one but five comments from well-meaning people asking if she and the younger Flannery boy were an item. It was enough for her to vow to avoid him at all costs—including ducking out the back of the library when she’d seen his Suburban at the diner across the street the other day.

“Avery, we talked about this. The date was horrible, and that’s not even getting into the fiasco at your birthday party.” Lie, lie, lie. But what was she supposed to say? That he’d blown her mind seven ways to Sunday on her porch swing? As if that wasn’t bad enough, she couldn’t stop thinking about how he would have done it all over again if they’d just parked in some dark alley instead of trying to drive. People never crashed when giving each other orgasms while driving in her novels. And he’d had her most of the way there, using only his fingers.

She’d lost far too much sleep wondering what he would have done if he’d had both hands free.

But apparently Avery didn’t care about her wavering mental health. “Yeah, yeah. That’s beside the point. I wouldn’t even be bringing him up, but it’s kind of an emergency.”

She moved around her living room and pulled out the little statue she’d bought for Mr. Smith this morning. It was a mermaid sitting on a rock, combing her hair. Since another betta wasn’t an option, she’d wanted to get him a companion so he wouldn’t worry about her spending so much time at the library. It couldn’t be easy being here all day by himself.

He circled it a few times and then continued swimming around happily, his brightly colored blue-and-red tail swishing. “What the heck does ‘kind of an emergency’ mean? Is Drew okay?” Last time Avery had been this cagey, Drew had almost been stranded overnight on an extreme skiing trip. A storm swept in and he lost contact. He’d ended up having to signal the rescue helicopter with the flash from his cell phone camera.

“Everyone’s fine. Mostly. He and Ryan were driving out to go hiking or something manly like that and they got that damn sheriff’s truck stuck. I told him it needed more weight in the bed, but does he ever listen to me? Nope.”

Her heart dropped. Why, oh why, did Ryan have to be with him? She swallowed hard. “I’m not sure why you’re calling me instead of a tow truck.”

“Well, you know Drew. He is sheriff, hear him roar. The guys will never let him live it down if he has to call for help over something this stupid.”

She restacked the books at the end of the table that she’d been meaning to take back to the library for days now. “It’s a tow truck, Avery! It’s not as if we’re calling the state troopers.”

“Stop yelling at me! I don’t know what his problem is, but he wants you to bring the Beast out there. I’d do it, but the antique lamp I bought at auction last week will be at my shop in twenty minutes and I’m the only one who can sign for it. He can use my winch to haul his ass out of the ditch.”

She glanced at the book and cup of tea she’d just settled down with and resigned herself to going out into the storm that had rolled through earlier this morning. It wasn’t one for the record books by any means—the snow came down in a steady stream that indicated there’d be a few extra inches on the ground by the time it was done—but it wasn’t going to be pleasant driving. At least she’d be in Avery’s enormous Jeep, which everyone referred to as the Beast. “I’m putting my shoes on right now.”

“You’re the best! The keys are on the table at my house. I’ll text you directions.”

Bri sighed and tossed her book into her purse. “Drew owes me big-time for this.”

“You be sure to let him know that when you see him.”

With another, longer sigh, she stood and went in search of her of travel mug. If she was venturing out in this mess, she wasn’t doing it without her tea. To make matters worse, the Beast had spotty heat at best. It was famed for never having met a ditch it couldn’t get out of and, with a résumé like that, Avery claimed she didn’t need little things like a working thermostat or accurate gas gauge.

She was tempted to call the tow truck, regardless of what Drew wanted. Driving there would take at least forty-five minutes from town, maybe longer if the snow got any worse. She’d be lucky if she didn’t end up in the ditch, too.

She grabbed her keys and coat, and headed for the door. Damn Drew for getting into this mess while his brother was with him. She didn’t want to see Ryan again. It didn’t matter how she seemed to lose all sense of control when she was around him—he was no good for her on any other level. Which was fine, because she definitely wasn’t traipsing out into the painfully cold and wet weather just so she could spend a little more time with him. She was just going to help a friend in need.

That was it.

…

Ryan stared at the text his fool brother had just sent, trying to force a logical reaction even though all he wanted to do was jump from his chair and race to his SUV.

Bri was in an accident. I can’t get out to help her and all my guys are busy with other calls. Need you to. Worried she’s going to wander off. Here’s the address.

Of all the times for the goddamn sheriff’s office to be running low on manpower, now was seriously shit. He hoped to God his brother hadn’t shared who was coming to help her out. If Drew told her to sit and wait for Ryan, she was more likely to stomp through a snowstorm if it meant she could avoid seeing him again.

Hell, two days ago when he’d waited at the diner across the street for her to close the library, he’d seen her peek her head out of the front door, take one look at his SUV, and disappear. Five minutes later he’d watched her sneak out the side exit—which was in the direct line of sight of the booth he’d taken. It was goddamn stupid. They were both adults. And, yeah, the date had been bad—ridiculously good sex on her porch excepted—and then they’d gone and added to the History of Ryan Flannery the night of Avery’s party. But that didn’t mean she had to avoid him. Though, if he had a lick of sense, he’d avoid her like the plague.

Which did nothing to explain why his idiot self was throwing on his ski jacket, grabbing his keys and emergency bag, and heading out into the weather to rescue her ass.

Ryan drove out of town, windshield wipers flying across his line of vision as he followed the GPS’s instructions through winding back roads he only half remembered from high school. What the hell was Bri doing all the way out here? He took the prescribed turn off the main road and cursed when the SUV jostled dangerously. A fucking dirt road? There had better be a good goddamn explanation, or he was going to be wicked pissed.

Oh, hell, who was he kidding? He was already wicked pissed.

The deep rutted tracks drew him in much the same way it drew in his wheels, so he kept going, because as far as he could tell, Bri hadn’t driven back here by herself. Those tracks sure as hell hadn’t come from the Prius he’d seen in her driveway. Who was she with?

He tried to beat back the jealousy and banish the images of her huddled up with another man and making good use of their time while they waited for rescue. His suspicion turned to confusion when he caught sight of Avery’s lifted Jeep on massive tires. What the hell? No way could that thing get stuck and, judging by its perfectly stable location in front of this cabin, it never had been.

Ryan shut off his Suburban and headed for the front door, following the dainty footprints that could only have been made by a woman. One set, not two. So either Drew had gotten his wires crossed and he was actually here for Avery, or Bri was driving the Beast.

He shoved open the front door and slammed it behind him. A squeak sounded from somewhere down the hall, so he marched in that direction, determined to get some answers. The kitchen he passed was stocked with enough food to feed his entire flight crew for a week, and the living room full of comfy couches was free of dust.

What. The. Fuck.

He pushed open the closed door at the end of the hallway with more force than necessary and barely had time to register a wild-eyed Bri before she swung a chair at him.

Or tried to.

Instead of hitting him in the chest like she’d obviously planned, the weight of the heavy oak dragged her down until the chair rammed into his shins. “Jesus Christ!” Ryan jumped back and cursed again as she tried to lift the damn thing a second time.

“Get away from me! I’m not alone out here, and my friends will kill you if you touch me!”

He held up his hands. “Bri, relax. It’s me.”

“Ryan?” She pushed her glasses higher on her nose and frowned. “Where’s Drew? I thought Avery must have gotten the address wrong because his truck wasn’t here, but I couldn’t make my cell phone work and so I went to knock on the door to see if they had a landline, but no one was here, and—”

Holy shit. She was talking so fast her words tumbled over themselves. He cautiously put his hands on her shoulders and nearly jumped back again when she threw her arms around his waist and buried her face in his neck. “I thought you were some backwoods hunter who was going to kill me!”

“Honey, I hate to be the one to tell you this, but you live in central Pennsylvania. There are a lot of backwoods hunters out here, and less than the average percentage of serial killers. I think you’re safe.”

She seemed to realize she was clinging to him because she abruptly shoved him away. “I’m entitled to be frightened. And stop being so negative about the people who live here. They’re perfectly lovely.”

“Except for the backwoods hunters?” He smiled in spite of himself. Not that she wasn’t allowed to be afraid, but her intelligence might be in question if she made a habit of wandering into strange houses just because the doors were unlocked. Now probably wasn’t the best time to call attention to that, though.

She peered around him to look down the hall. “Where’s Drew? And his truck? Did you walk here?”

The sinking feeling in his chest got worse. “What are you talking about? I got a text saying you’d gotten into a car accident and needed me.”

“Well, that’s just ridiculous. Why would I be out here driving around on a day like today?”

“That’s a damn good question. One I plan on asking my brother when I get back into town.”

“But Avery said…” She broke off and cocked her head to the side. “Did you leave your SUV running?”

Then Ryan registered a second engine starting up. He patted his pocket. The keys were still there, but there was no mistaking the sound of his SUV peeling away. “Goddamn it!”

He ran through the cabin, pushing through the front door in time to see the two vehicles flying backward down the rutted road, Avery in the driver’s seat of her Jeep, giving him a little finger wave as she maneuvered around the corner in reverse like a pro.

It was official. As soon as he got back into town, he was going to kill his brother.

Chapter Six

“But this doesn’t make any sense.”

After a good ten minutes outside, Bri had been forced to retreat to the—marginally—warmer cabin. It didn’t look any different than it had the first time she walked through, a cozy setup that was used for hunters, based on the mossy oak pattern covering everything paired with the heavy wooden features. It wasn’t somewhere she’d choose on her own, in part because she wasn’t all that much for camping or hunting or anything that involved crawling through the woods in less than ideal weather conditions.

She was mentally wandering, she realized. Or maybe just avoiding looking at the man standing near the door, his arms crossed in front of his massive chest. The man she’d practically thrown herself at every time they were within touching distance.

“They’re coming back,” she said. They had to be.

“No, they aren’t.”

She dug through her purse, cold fingers slipping over her phone twice before she managed to snag it.

Damn. She had no cell reception.

Panic reared its ugly head. There had to be a way out of this. Her friends knew how she felt about Ryan—or at least how she told them she felt. But hormones didn’t count as feelings, so it didn’t matter if her body was perking up just from being in the same room as him. Even though she wanted to go running into the snow and chase Avery down, she also couldn’t help but remember how good he’d felt when she threw herself into his arms back in the bedroom.

Granted, attacking him wasn’t her finest moment, but she’d been terrified when she heard someone walking through the cabin and they didn’t call out. She was surprised she’d had the courage to grab that chair—even if it hadn’t worked out like it had for the heroine in the last book she read. Fiction rarely translated over into reality—a fact she was all too aware of.

“Give me your cell phone.”

Ryan’s brows dropped. “I don’t think so.” He pulled out the phone and grimaced. “You know what? Maybe if you see this for yourself, you’ll finally believe that my brother and Avery have every intention of leaving us out here.”

She took the phone in shaking hands, skimming over the text message from Drew three times before the words penetrated. Work your shit out. We’ll be back for you on Sunday. Watch out for mountain lions. To make matters worse, his phone showed the same “no service” emblem hers did.

“No. No, no, no, no, no! They wouldn’t do this to me! They can’t!”

“We’ve already covered this. They can and they did. So just relax.”

“Relax? How can you say that at a time like this? We’re trapped! We’re going to starve to death over the next three days.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” He moved around her, keeping a careful distance between them, and opened the nearest kitchen cabinet. It was stocked full of canned goods and bags of chips. Then he opened the fridge, which was equally full. He pointed at a fruit basket in the middle of the kitchen island and frowned as he reached into it. “They put some planning into this.” He held up a packet of condoms that had been nestled in next to the oranges and apples. “If circumstances were different, I might be impressed.”

“Impressed? Of course you would! This is exactly what you want—me, trapped here where I can’t get away from you.”

He dropped the condoms. “You really think I had something to do with this?”

She wouldn’t put it past him. He’d certainly been angry enough when she’d climbed into Drew’s truck and left Ryan standing beside the toppled stoplight without a second look. But… Bri shook her head. As much as a part of her wanted to blame him, this had Avery and Drew written all over it. How many times had she seen their scheming in the year she’d known them? “Let’s leave and forget any of it ever happened.”

“Leave? I don’t know about you, but I didn’t see any conveniently stashed snowmobiles, or vehicles of any kind.”

Well, now that he pointed it out, she hadn’t either. There was only a tiny lean-to visible through the back window with an equally tiny stack of firewood next to it. Definitely no transportation hidden there. She ran her hands through her hair, nearly knocking off her glasses. This cabin was nowhere near big enough for the both of them, and she hadn’t missed the fact that there was only one bed.

It didn’t matter. If worst came to worst, he could curl up…on the massive rug in front of the fireplace. Bri cringed at the sight of the white fur. God, she hoped that wasn’t real, because having a bearskin rug in front of a fireplace was more at home in one of her romance novels than the real world. And that thing was huge. The animal would have had to be hundreds upon hundreds of pounds, the spread of fur more than enough space for even someone as large as Ryan to lie on.

As she rubbed her eyes, an image of his well-muscled shoulders against the white rug planted itself in her brain.

Absolutely not. “Aren’t you a pararescuer? Getting people out of inhospitable conditions is part of your job description. So get me out of here.” Anything was better than spending three days closeted with him while her mind was offering up plenty of ways they could pass the time—none of which had to do with talking.

“I don’t have any equipment and, between the snow and the cold, chances are one or both of us would end up with hypothermia before we made it back to town. When you’re that cold, your brain stops functioning, and it’s easy to get disoriented. We could get lost.”

“We’re stuck here?” And the cabin seemed to be getting smaller with every breath she took.

“They said they’d be back Sunday. Hell, if the weather clears before then, we can hike out.”

“If the weather clears before then? There’s no guarantee of that. It might not let up for the entire weekend.” Sunday seemed an eternity away. “We’re trapped here. Together.”

“You and I work better in close quarters—the closer, the better. Maybe you should think of it as a chance to finish what we started the night of Avery’s party, instead of throwing a snit.”

It felt curiously like the earth had fallen away beneath her. “A snit? A snit? This is not a snit. This is a totally and completely rational response to being stranded here with a man I despise. And I wouldn’t touch you if you were the last person on earth!” She was screaming at him by the end of the sentence, but she didn’t care because he just stood there, as solid as a rock against the waves of her anger.

“Right. Because you’ve been so successful keeping your hands to yourself up to this point.”

“That was then. This is now. It’s different.”

“Whatever you have to tell yourself to sleep at night.”

She wished she had a chair at hand so she could bean him again.

…

Ryan took one look at her narrowed eyes and recognized this as an argument he wouldn’t win. Since he was far too tempted to yank her into his arms and prove Bri had no problem touching him whenever he got too close—which wouldn’t help the situation any—sticking around wasn’t the best course of action. So he turned on his heel and started for the door.

“Where are you going?”

He gritted his teeth and tried to remember why he’d wanted to spend more time with this woman. “I’m going to go chop some firewood so you don’t freeze your prissy little ass off tonight.”

Her outraged gasp was music to his ears—especially since this time he was shutting the door on her. Petty as hell, but there was no denying the satisfaction he got from the action. This woman had come along and made judgments about his reasons for leaving town that were so far off base part of him wanted to dig out his accomplishments and throw them in her face to prove he wasn’t some worthless POS who ran away from his problems. Even if he had run from Wellingford ten years ago, the world didn’t begin and end in the little town in central Pennsylvania, no matter what she seemed to think.

The satisfaction at pissing her off faded as he trudged through the snow to the lean-to. There was some wood already chopped but the pile wouldn’t last more than a day or so. He reached for the first log and cursed. Another packet of condoms had been tucked into the top of the stack. He couldn’t figure out what Drew and Avery thought was going to happen in a lean-to in the middle of winter, but apparently they were optimistic.

He shook his head and got started. He needed the physical aspect of chopping wood to get his mind off the woman in the cabin behind him. She got under his skin in record time but, even annoyed as hell, he still wanted to shove her against the nearest wall and have his way with her.

How they could connect so well physically but barely stand each other mentally was a mystery to him. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to fight with her or fuck her until they both forgot their issues.

Which made him the biggest idiot of all.

Chapter Seven

The words blurred before Bri’s eyes no matter how much she tried to concentrate. She wished she could blame it on the fact that she was tired and hungry, but the source of her problems was the man currently hauling firewood into the cabin to build a fire.

Though he was easily six feet from her, she could barely draw a full breath. Smothered. That was the feeling putting pressure on her chest until her breasts ached with it. It must be.

Ryan stacked the wood and then grabbed paper from the pile next to the fireplace and stuffed it into the crack. “What the fuck?” Before she could ask him what the problem was, he reached farther into the fireplace and came back with a string of condoms. Her face flamed as he tossed them at her. “Someone thought we were going to be banging in some really weird places. There was some out in the firewood, too.”

“Lovely.” She toed them under the couch, wishing her mind hadn’t jumped to the ways they could utilize the newest batch of condoms—and the ones in the fruit basket.

He pulled out a lighter and lit the fire. Almost immediately, heat licked through the room, warming her when she hadn’t even realized she was chilled in the first place.

Before she could thank him or ask what he planned on doing next or any of the other words that sprang to her lips, he stood and moved to the kitchen. Maybe she should just stay silent. No one ever got into trouble by keeping their mouth closed.

She dropped her gaze back to her book, but the story held no more appeal than it had five minutes ago. With a sigh, she closed it in favor of looking around the room. The cabin really was cozy, the large windows giving a gorgeous view of the surrounding snow-covered trees that made her want to curl up with a flannel blanket and a cup of tea.

Except she wouldn’t be doing any relaxing with Ryan’s presence saturating the cabin.

He dumped a can of something into a pan and then grabbed a box out of the cupboard. As he started adding ingredients, she reluctantly climbed to her feet and went to investigate. There’s no other form of entertainment in this place. I might as well see what he’s up to. Her questionable logic firmly in place, she slipped onto the barstool across the island from him.

Bri stared at her fingernails, the dark-pink paint she’d put on for her blind date already starting to chip off. She wanted to make a smart comment, but nothing came to mind except how good he looked in that fitted white thermal shirt. It clung to his shoulders and biceps, highlighting them in a way that seemed designed to remind her of how his muscles felt under her fingers. So she went with a generic, “What are you doing?”

“You’re a smart girl. I’m sure you can figure it out.”

This was why she should have stayed on the couch. Every interaction they’d had fell to extremes—they either ended up fighting or throwing themselves at each other.

Not that she needed those particular memories at this moment. Bri took a tie off her wrist and pulled her hair up, mostly to give herself a moment before she went off on him. The extra five seconds didn’t help her temper any, but at least she wasn’t ready to throw something. “My friends are terrible people.”

Ryan glanced up from where he was dumping the mix into an eight-by-eight pan. “You’ve known them for a year and you’re just now figuring it out?”

“They haven’t exactly made a habit of stranding me in deserted cabins with strange men before now.”

“I hardly think I can be considered a ‘strange man’ since I’ve been inside you.”

She choked, air not quite making it to her lungs. “I can’t believe you just said that.” Even worse was her reaction to his words. Her nipples pebbled, rubbing almost painfully against her bra as she shifted, and her thighs clenched together, as if that would do anything to ease the unnameable feeling centering between them.

As she’d found over the last week, the only way to ease that feeling was to utilize her buzzy friend. It hadn’t helped that he seemed to know she’d been doing just that. He’d completely called her on it the day of Avery’s birthday party. Of course she’d pictured his face above her and his hands on her—he was the first man she’d been with in years. Her being borderline-obsessed with him was a perfectly natural response. She hoped. Because any experience she had from here on out would be compared to how things had been with him, and like it or not, he’d set a high bar.

Oh God, what if he really did ruin me?

Seeming oblivious to her mortification, he put the pan into the oven and then used a wooden spoon to stir the pot. “It’s just sex. What’s the harm in talking about it?”

When he put it like that, he made her sound like a frightened virgin. They needed to talk about something—anything—else. So she blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “I’m worried about my fish.”

Ryan frowned, his mouth twisting as if he wasn’t sure if she was joking or not. “Your fish?”

“Mr. Smith. What if he starves while I’m gone? I didn’t get a chance to feed him today.”

He rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand. “Bri, your fish isn’t going to starve.”

“How do you know that? I’ve never left him alone for this long.” What if he gets lonely? Sure, she’d put the mermaid statue in the tank with him, but a statue wasn’t going to check in on him or read to him. She managed to keep that last bit inside. There was no reason to give him more ammunition to make fun of her.

He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms. “Fish are hardier than you give them credit for. Drew and I had a goldfish when we were kids. That thing went six years without being fed and it still managed to survive.”

“Six years?”

He shrugged. “We were kids. We left it bread crumbs when we remembered, but it wasn’t a regular thing.”

She should have been horrified at the neglect he’d just admitted to, but instead, she had to stifle a smile. “That’s terrible. That poor animal.”

“He had a good life. We took him on a few adventures, so he didn’t get bored.”

“How thoughtful.” They may not have remembered to feed it, but they made sure he wasn’t wasting away from boredom? It was such a little-boy thing to be concerned about.

Bri shook her head. She wasn’t supposed to be thinking about Ryan being cute. “How long will you be in town?”

“I fly out in ten days.”

So soon. She couldn’t say why the news sent a pang of regret through her since she’d known all along Ryan wasn’t staying—and didn’t want him to, even if he changed his mind about Wellingford. This wasn’t one of her romance novels, and Ryan wasn’t the Prince Charming she’d always dreamed of. It just seemed strangely difficult to picture her life going back to what it’d been before he barreled into it. But she couldn’t afford to think like that right now—or ever. He was leaving.

End of story.

…

Ryan wasn’t sure what had brought about that lost look in her eyes, but he didn’t like it. Not when they seemed to finally have found a topic that didn’t lead to them fighting. Her damn betta fish, of all things. He’d buy her twenty more if it kept that smile playing at the edges of her lips.

As soon as he’d told her he was flying out next week, her eyes had dimmed and she’d picked a spot on the kitchen island to focus on. Even knowing he should leave well enough alone, he couldn’t help asking, “You love this town, don’t you?”

She shifted her gaze to him and smiled, the expression so sweet, it hit him in the chest with the force of a Mack truck. “I have a place here. It’s only been a little while, but it already feels like it’s become home in a way I’ve never had before.”

He wished he could see Wellingford through her eyes, but the thought of being forced into the role he’d grown up in, of seeing the pity in people’s eyes when his dad got in another fight at the bar or was found passed out somewhere public, made the walls feel like they were closing in. Having a place obviously mattered a lot to Bri, so he choked back his issues and rounded the island to stand before her. “I’m glad you like it.”

She frowned, as if trying to puzzle out his game. “What—”

He kissed her to chase away the lost look on her face, to add to the good memories she seemed to so desperately crave, to give her something of the present to focus on. At least that was the excuse he told himself. The truth was he’d been thinking about kissing her nearly nonstop ever since he’d taken out that goddamn traffic light.

So much of Bri was held in reserve, as if she were shielding herself from something. Her mass of gorgeous dark hair seemed to always be down, bangs a blunt edge that brushed her black-framed cat-eye glasses. Her clothing was strategically loose, conveying comfort without looking sloppy, but effectively hiding the body he wanted to memorize with his hands and mouth.

And those lips—the same lips softening against his own right now—were the devil’s own temptation, with their marked Cupid’s bow and full bottom lip that begged to be nipped. Ryan gave in to the temptation to do just that, and she gasped, her hands going to his shoulders as she swayed against him.

It was all the invitation he needed.

He sank his hands into her hair, angling their mouths so he could plunder hers. She tasted of wintergreen, so fresh and clean that he groaned. While he was distracted with relearning her lips and tongue, Bri started her own exploration, her hands drifting from their perch on his shoulders to his chest. He wanted to strip off his shirt so he could feel her fingers against his skin, but Ryan contented himself with stroking his tongue against hers. They already walked such a fragile tightrope. He wasn’t going to do anything to risk her doubts creeping in to put a stop to this.

But when she slipped her hands beneath his shirt, fingers brushing over his stomach, a shiver worked its way through his body, all the way down his spine to his cock.

That level of reaction from a single near-innocent touch almost made him pull back. What the hell was he getting himself into? Then she hooked the top of his jeans with one hand while she palmed him with the other and he decided he didn’t care. He held perfectly still as she stroked him, his muscles actually shaking from the need to yank her against him and rip off their clothes.

Bri broke away, kissing along his jaw and down his neck. “You need to tell me what cologne you use. I’m going to sue them.”

His laugh cut off when she unzipped his pants and took his cock in her hand. “God.”

She jerked back. “Did I hurt you?”

No, but she might if she stopped doing what she was doing. Ryan took her hand and maneuvered it back to where she’d been. “I like it when you touch me.”

“And I like touching you.” She cupped him more firmly, sending pleasure sparking through him.

He kissed her again, but this time he let himself return her touch, pushing up her skirt until he could get to her skin beneath it. He moved his hand up her thigh and pressed his palm against the thin barrier of fabric shielding her from him. She moaned and any plan he had of taking this slow and teasing her disappeared in a puff of smoke.

With a groan, he slipped his hand into her panties and, finding her already wet, slid a single finger into her. Her hand spasmed on his cock, and she began touching him with renewed fervor. The way she explored him was the most exquisite torture he’d ever experienced. Her fingers danced over his skin, thumb dragging up the underside and then circling the head.

He wanted inside her. Wanted it so bad he could barely hang on to the reason why it wasn’t a good idea.

Ryan dropped to his knees, already mourning the loss of her hands on him, but he wanted—needed—to taste her again. From the way she eagerly lifted her hips so he could slide off her panties, she wanted the same damn thing.

Seeing her spread out for him made a deeply hidden part of Ryan roar to the forefront just like it had on the porch. He wanted to follow through on his threat to ruin her for other men, so that no one could even come close to making her feel how she felt with him. Only him. He wasn’t proud of the possessive feeling coursing through him, but he wasn’t going to deny it. He wasn’t going to deny a damn thing when it came to Bri.

He dragged his tongue over her, savoring her taste just like he savored the feeling of her nails dragging over the back of his head, urging him on. Already, she rocked against his mouth, whimpers turning into his name chanted over and over again.

This was perfection. They didn’t need to talk. All they needed was the language created between two bodies. He sucked her clit into his mouth, using his lips and tongue to drive her crazy, until she went rigid and screamed his name. Fuck. A man could get used to giving a woman that kind of orgasm. He licked his lips and lifted his head to tell her just that.

Then the goddamn smoke detector went off.

Chapter Eight

Bri should be doing something other than staring stupidly at Ryan while he hurried to open windows and fan out the smoke curling from the oven. She should help or…something. But since she wasn’t certain she could stand without falling on her face, she settled for shoving her skirt down to cover her nakedness. Her panties had been thrown…somewhere…and she was in no position to search them out. Even the ear-piercing shriek of the smoke detector wasn’t enough to snap her out of her post-orgasm haze.

She’d always read about women who got themselves into trouble because they were thinking with their bodies instead of their minds, but she’d never understood before. Now she did. With the way Ryan made her body feel, she could forgive him any number of sins as long as he kept touching her.

Knowing that should have terrified her. Ryan didn’t like her. He’d made that abundantly clear, even though he never hesitated to kiss her like he wanted to memorize her taste. Not to mention all the orgasms.

The memory made her legs shake all over again.

She couldn’t get over the strangeness of the whole thing. Growing up, boys mostly left her well enough alone, other than when they thought a few well-placed compliments would make her more inclined to do their homework. After she graduated from college, the only use most men had for her was to ask where to find the hunting and fishing section of the library. And yet here was Ryan, a walking fantasy with his good looks and impressive shoulders, bringing her to orgasm every chance he got.

The smoke detector made one last trill and then fell into silence. Ryan turned from the window and gave her a sheepish grin that had her heart beating too hard. “That kind of ruined the mood, huh?”

She wasn’t sure anything could ruin the mood between them. “I guess catching things on fire really is a running trend with you.”

His jaw tightened and she had a second to wish she could take her words back, but Ryan surprised her. He took a deep breath. “Less so than rumor would have you believe.” He grabbed hot pads from a drawer and opened the oven door, which promptly released a cloud of black smoke. “Shit. Guess we’re not having corn bread with the chili.”

“I’m not really a corn bread fan.” She bit her tongue, wishing she’d just stayed silent. They wouldn’t get through this weekend if she didn’t at least attempt to be polite. It wasn’t normally a problem—she liked people and tended to be nice as a general rule, even when they weren’t. For some reason that didn’t hold true with Ryan.

He shrugged and dumped the pan into the sink. “Then we’ll call it fate and I won’t try to throw together something else.” He stirred the chili. “This, at least, seems to have survived our being distracted.”

Distracted. That was a good way to put what had just happened between them. Which shouldn’t happen again. Right? She didn’t know anymore. There was something about this man that made her feel off-center and defensive, how even being in the same room with him set her on edge. She’d never reacted like that to anyone.

And that was even before they slept together.

She ate the bowl of chili he set before her mechanically, not really tasting it as she mentally picked at their situation. They had no future. She knew that, and she suspected he knew it as well. They didn’t like each other. Couldn’t carry on a conversation without sniping at each other, and couldn’t snipe at each other without ending up in compromising positions. But when his hands were on her body and his tongue stroking hers, they fit together. No complications. No arguments. Nothing but two people coming together with pleasure as the only goal.

Bri set down her spoon. “I’d like to have sex again.”

…

Ryan took a cautious sip of his beer, fighting for some kind of calm. He’d been in plenty of hairy situations before, but the sheer idiocy of breaking into a cold sweat as a reaction to Bri’s proclamation embarrassed him on a level he wasn’t prepared to deal with. He was twenty-eight years old. He shouldn’t be acting like a bumbling teenager because a woman he’d already slept with wanted to have sex again.

Hell, considering the direction they’d been headed before the smoke detector went off, he shouldn’t be surprised.

Even knowing that, he couldn’t jump into this without figuring out where she was coming from. He sipped his beer again, feeling a little closer to normal. This was nothing different from approaching an enemy encounter—he had to figure out what direction she was coming from and head her off or confront her as necessary.

Comparing Bri to an enemy didn’t settle him nearly as well as it should have. He swallowed. “Why do you want to have sex again?”

Her face flamed red and he had half a second to wonder if she were going to back out on him before she took his beer out of his hand and drank. She made a face. “How do you drink that stuff? It’s terrible.”

“Which is probably why my brother and Avery stocked plenty of wine for you.” He leaned against the counter and propped his chin on his fist. “Stop avoiding the subject you brought up in the first place.”

“I’m not avoiding. I’m simply trying to figure out a way to approach it.”

He took back his beer and finished it off. “How about from head-on?”

“You would think that, wouldn’t you?” Bri closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them. “We have three days here and not much in the way of entertainment. So we can stare out the window and watch the snowfall, or we can try to find something to talk about.” Her expression conveyed just how pleasant either of those alternatives sounded.

Ryan couldn’t say he disagreed. Hadn’t he just been thinking about how they could barely hold down a conversation without fighting? “I’m not arguing so far.”

“For once.” She pursed her lips. “You see what I mean. We’ve been talking for all of two minutes and I already want to smack you.”

“Maybe you should go get that chair from earlier and try again.”

“Ha ha.” She twisted on her barstool to face him fully. “My point is that we already know we’re compatible in one way, so why not take advantage of it?”

Though part of his body perked up in agreement, Ryan couldn’t help digging in his heels a little. “Normally I restrict myself to sleeping with women who actually like me.”

“Do you see any of them here?” She motioned around the living room and kitchen. “I don’t think some perky redhead is going to materialize from the woodwork to relieve you.”

This was what she thought of him—that he needed relief. “While it’s flattering to find out that you think my standards are so low, I think I’ll pass.”

If anything, her blush got deeper. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Are you sure? Because it sounds like what you meant.” Ryan hissed out a breath and tried to get his annoyance under control. “That night we were together was the first time in a long time for me.”

“I never said it wasn’t.”

Not in so many words, but if she thought he needed the kind of so-called relief sex brought, it wasn’t a far jump to the conclusion that he was screwing everything in sight. “Because you’ve described me in such glowing terms up to this point.”

“I wasn’t trying to insult you.”

He shook his head. “Then you’ve been doing a hell of a job of it.”

Bri wrapped her arms around herself, looking so lost and confused again that he wanted to hug her. That hint of vulnerability killed him, so he gave in to the urge to put his arms around her. She shivered and leaned into him, and they sat like that for a few minutes. Finally, she raised her head. “I really didn’t mean it like that.”

He pushed her bangs off her face, letting his thumbs linger against her skin. “It’s okay.”

Her gaze dropped to his mouth. “Ryan, I’m going to kiss you now.”

Well, hell, what was he supposed to say? “I think I can handle that.” Even if this conversation wasn’t done.

She leaned up and pressed her lips against his, the sweetness of the move taking his breath away. Here she was again, his Bri. He’d be damned before he let her go without a fight.

Chapter Nine

The feeling of Ryan’s mouth opening under Bri’s made every worry she had float right out the window. What did anything matter when his hands were on her and his tongue traced hers? It didn’t. Nothing mattered but this man—right here, right now. Hadn’t she laughed herself silly over the last novel she’d read where the heroine thought just that?

She’d been wrong. So terribly wrong.

Ryan sighed when she dragged her teeth over his bottom lip, then he settled his hands on her behind, pulling her more firmly into the spot between his legs. Before she realized what he meant to do, he unfastened her skirt and it dropped to the floor. She started to pull away, all too aware of the curtainless windows and new chill on her bare skin.

Oh God, where are my panties? It wasn’t like she’d gone searching for them after he’d ripped them off earlier.

He hooked the back of her thighs and lifted her as he stood. Bri gave a little squeak that turned into a moan when she wrapped her legs around his waist and his hard length rubbed against her. “You feel so good.”

“I know.” But instead of laying her on the conveniently close couch, he started down the hall. As if reading her mind—or maybe just the confusion on her face—he said, “We’re making it to the bed this time.”

“Too far.” She reached between them and palmed him through his jeans since he really seemed to like that. His curse only confirmed her suspicion. So did his missed step.

Fully intending to take advantage of his distraction, she wiggled out of his grasp and dropped to her knees. His eyes went hooded even as he shook his head. “Not necessary.”

Who cared if it was necessary? Ever since she’d touched him earlier, she’d needed this. She’d read enough different variations of it in her novels, and she’d always wanted to try. It seemed right that it was with Ryan. She wanted to make him feel the same way he’d made her feel when he put his mouth on her.

She wanted to drive him out of his mind for wanting her.

Ignoring his warning growl, she unzipped his jeans and worked them down his hips until he sprang free. She moved forward, but stopped when she thought back to their encounter in the front seat of his SUV. After glancing at him from under her bangs, she pulled her shirt over her head and unhooked her bra. His muffled curse was exactly the reaction she’d been aiming for. He watched her as if she was giving him the greatest gift, but it didn’t feel selfless. Not when she thought she might die if she didn’t follow through on this.

She nearly laughed at the dramatic thought, but then Bri wrapped her hand around his erection and let the rest of it go. Right here, right now, it was only about this. She leaned forward and gave him an experimental lick, dragging her tongue along his underside. He hissed out a breath, which was all the encouragement she needed. She took him in her mouth, wondering at the feel of so much soft skin covering such hardness. Ryan cursed again and his back hit the wall, which suggested her romance novels really knew what they were talking about.

He murmured under his breath, whether cursing or praising her, she couldn’t tell. It didn’t matter since she had no intention of stopping. She stroked him with her hand, taking him deeper, until his hips bucked against her mouth.

“Bri.”

The warning was blatant, but she wasn’t sure she could ever get enough of the power coursing through her. Not when it seemed as if every muscle in his body was tensed, poised to lose control. To see this man who seemed to so enjoy driving her insane lose himself was high on her list of priorities right now. She wanted it. Hell, if she were going to be perfectly honest, she needed to level the playing field between them, to make him feel even a portion of the turbulence he caused just by being in the same room as her.

“Bri, you need to stop.”

But his hands were loose in her hair. He didn’t want her to stop. Which suited her just fine, because she didn’t want to, either. She picked up her pace, moving over him in the same way that made him moan earlier. Then she reached between his legs and cupped his balls, feathering her nails over that sensitive skin. He groaned, his entire body shaking, but just when she thought victory was guaranteed, he tried to pull away.

“No.” She wasn’t stopping until she finished this. She needed to finish this—to finish him.

His grip tightened, but Ryan let her take him back in her mouth. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

She ignored him, maintaining her gentle hold on his balls and moving her other hand in counterpoint with her mouth. His hands spasmed in her hair, his curses stringing together until she could barely understand the words. It didn’t matter, not with him swelling in her mouth, and his hips moving even though he was obviously trying to hold still. He came with a groan and she swallowed him down, loving the way his knees shuddered, just a little.

Before she could luxuriate in the desire and power coursing through her, he hauled her to her feet and spun around to press her back against the wall. “Where did that come from?”

“Where did what come from?”

“You, me, the best blow job I’ve ever had.”

She attempted a grin, but it was difficult to be amused with him looking at her like he’d never seen her before. “There’s more to the library than the hunting and fishing section.”

Ryan kissed her, and the way his tongue demanded she open her mouth felt like he was imprinting himself on her. He didn’t move his hands from her hair, cupping her head while still effectively holding her in place.

It was too much. She pushed at his shoulders, gasping in a breath when he leaned back. Instead of being relieved he gave her the space she so desperately needed, her panic got worse. He looked down at her, those blue eyes fathomless, threatening to make this into something it most definitely could not be. She couldn’t have moved if she tried, and with the entire length of Ryan’s body against her, she wasn’t sure she wanted to. She wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

She tried to turn away, but he caught her chin and tipped it up, forcing her to meet his gaze. Before those eyes, she felt her entire past, all her hopes and dreams and fears, stripped bare for him, one by one. Things he had no business seeing. Her terror over being abandoned again and again. Her love of libraries and the peace being surrounded by safe, reliable books brought her—how safe she felt there because nothing ever changed. Her hope for a dream man that she’d never quite been able to quash, no matter how many times she told herself it was a foolish thing to want. Her need for a family, for a place in life that was hers and hers alone, roots. All that knowledge to do with what he pleased.

“What are you so afraid of?” he murmured.

Bri shuddered, the intimacy of the moment too much. No one saw her, not in the way he seemed to. Everything about you, she wanted to say. And the way she was already starting to crave his body against hers, like he was her favorite kind of drug. She licked her lips, all too aware of how naked she was and the fact that he still retained most of his clothing. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Her safety net. As long as she didn’t admit how deeply she felt about something, it couldn’t be taken from her. It was a lesson she’d learned the hard way when surrounded by other children in a barren dog-eat-dog world. When you had nothing, you were willing to fight for every scrap.

And the more someone else valued it, the more value it had.

“Bri, tell me.”

She swallowed. “A lot of things.” Some days it felt like she was afraid of everything.

Ryan smoothed her hair back. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Liar. She was pretty sure he already had. But then he kissed her again, and Bri wasn’t all that concerned about the future or the potential pain it held. Now was all that mattered, this moment with this man. She just wanted to stop thinking and feel.

She dug at his shirt, stripping it over his head and tossing it aside. Next she finished shoving down his jeans. God, this man was magnificent, his body corded with muscle beneath tanned skin. She reached for his growing erection, but he intercepted her and lifted her arms over her head to press her wrists against the wall. “Don’t move.”

“But—”

“Condom.”

For one wild moment, she actually considered telling him to keep going, but a thread of sanity raised its head at last moment. She nodded jerkily. “Hurry.”

“Do. Not. Move.” He took two steps backward and then turned and strode down the hallway back into the living room.

She couldn’t see him from her position, and the temptation to remove her hands from the wall and lean forward to look was nearly overwhelming. She didn’t, though, because it felt absolutely wicked to stand here, completely naked, completely vulnerable to him. It helped that she could hear him crashing around the living room, cursing under his breath, and knew she was the one who’d driven him so out of control.

After one final crash, Ryan reappeared, already tearing open the condom. By the time he reached her, he had it on. He lifted her against the wall and Bri immediately wrapped her legs around his waist, a whimper slipping free when he nudged her entrance.

He worked his way into her with small strokes, each one spiking her pleasure higher. She tried to arch into him, but his grip on the back of her thighs held her open and helpless. He teased her, not going as deeply as she needed. And, God, she needed so much, it terrified her.

“You’re thinking too much.” He shoved into her, sheathing himself completely. The nearly overwhelming fullness had her closing her eyes and hissing out a breath even as she gripped him tighter. “Fuck.”

The word came out so harshly, and yet knowing she affected him so deeply warmed her unexpectedly. Bri nodded, trying and failing once again to lower herself and take him deeper. With him pinning her in place in so many ways, holding so still, the need for friction drove her nearly out of her mind. He didn’t move, though, and she couldn’t. “Please. Please.”

Pressure built in her, only made more intense by the barest friction of her frantic attempts. Ryan’s breath hitched. “You feel so fucking good.”

Nowhere as good as he felt inside her. She clung to him as he spread her thighs and pounded into her, each stroke driving her higher. “Right there. Oh God, right there.”

“That’s it, honey. Come for me.”

It was as if her body had been waiting for this very moment, when they were joined so closely, to finally let go.

As if she needed to be held down by Ryan in order to be free.

And nothing in her life had terrified her more.

Chapter Ten

What did this woman do to him?

Ryan sank to the floor and pulled Bri into his lap. He wanted to say something, do something, to cement this peaceful feeling soaking into him. Maybe, just maybe, they were finally getting somewhere. “Come on.”

“What?” Bri blinked up at him as he shifted her to the carpet next to him and stood. He would have liked to think that her expression was caused by the aftereffects of her orgasm, but he didn’t think so.

“Come to bed with me.” He held out his hand, which she proceeded to look at like it might jump off his wrist and go for her throat.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

He gritted his teeth and strove for patience. “Honey, I just banged you against the wall. I’m pretty confident that coming to bed with me isn’t going to cross any more boundaries.”

Instead of being reassured, she only looked more determined. “No. We’re not sleeping together.”

“We just did.”

She struggled to her feet and hurriedly gathered up her clothes. “No. What we did was have sex. Sleeping together isn’t the same thing.”

It shouldn’t have felt like a slap to the face. But it did. “So I’m good enough to fuck, but I’m not good enough to sleep next to on a massive king-size bed.” He shouldn’t be surprised. He’d been fighting to be considered worth something for his whole damn life, and she’d just thrown it back in his face. Stupidly, he’d thought that maybe she’d felt some of the same connection he had while they were all tangled up in each other.

Guess not.

The pile of clothes she had clutched to her chest dipped, as if she were really considering it. “I… That’s not what I meant. It’s just—” She closed her eyes and, when she opened them, the warmth those baby blues had previously held was gone. “Will you please put on some clothes?”

God forbid. Ryan leaned against the wall and crossed his arms over his chest. “You weren’t complaining a minute ago.”

Her face flamed as if he’d just said something seriously inappropriate. “That’s not fair. If you can’t maintain the boundaries I need, maybe we shouldn’t have sex anymore.”

Absolutely not. He wasn’t about to let her avoid this conversation and make him feel like a dick when it was her idea to begin with. Ryan clenched his jaw as he disposed of the condom and yanked on his jeans. He wasn’t close enough to touch her, but she gave his groin area a wild look—as if he were really going to pop his cock out uninvited.

Ryan wasn’t always a gentleman and he wasn’t always nice, but he didn’t disrespect women, and he sure as fuck didn’t push them into a situation where they’d feel uncomfortable. Considering she’d just had her legs wrapped around his waist while begging him to fuck her, her acting like he was a Neanderthal now grated. “Stop it. Just fucking cut it out.”

Her gaze flew to his face. “I don’t understand.”

“Stop looking at me like you think I’m going to haul your ass over to the bed and fuck you.”

She gasped and her eyes went wide. If she hadn’t licked her lips, he might have actually believed she was scandalized. She wasn’t, though. She wanted him again—just like he wanted her.

Too fucking bad.

He wasn’t going to play these games with her and her mixed messages. Ryan might be fighting everything in him to avoid doing what he’d just described to her, but he sure as fuck wasn’t going to touch her until she figured out whatever her issue was. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from leaning forward until his face was bare inches from hers.

“Let’s get something straight. I’m not a toy you can pick up and then throw away when you’re done with me. You don’t want to sleep in the bed? Fine. I’m not going to tie you up and force it on you, but I’m sure as fuck not going to let you keep flipping around on me. You need to make up your mind about what you want. When you do that, let me know.”

Then he stalked down the hallway and slammed the door. Under normal circumstances, there was no way in hell he’d let a woman sleep on the couch while he took the bed, but…

Shit. He still couldn’t.

Cursing himself up one side and down the other, Ryan threw open the door. She still stood wide-eyed in the middle of the hallway where he’d left her. “Take the bed.”

“Excuse me?”

“You have five seconds to get into the bedroom and shut the door, or you’re sleeping on the couch.”

She gave a short nod and slid past him. “Thank you.” Then she was gone, the door shutting between them.

It felt like yet another wall coming up.

…

Bri curled up in the middle of the massive bed, but no matter how tired she was she couldn’t shut off her racing thoughts. The fact that Ryan wanted to share the bed was a big deal. She wasn’t sure what it was a step toward, but as soon as he’d offered, she’d nearly had a panic attack. Every time she had sex with him, she fell a little more under his spell. She’d already had to forcibly remind herself that he wasn’t sticking around—and he never would. He was shipping out in a little over a week. It was at the top of a list of reasons they shouldn’t be together, a list that only seemed to get shorter as time went on.

A list she wasn’t sure why she was clinging to so fiercely.

No, that wasn’t entirely accurate. She knew all too well why she held it so closely. This wasn’t a romance novel. Just because she didn’t dislike him as intensely as she had when they first met didn’t mean a single thing about their overall compatibility. Love wasn’t the glue that held a relationship together. It was something that came from hard work and commitment and a thousand other things people in relationships often took for granted.

She wasn’t interested in love when it came to Ryan.

Love? Bri took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. No one had said anything about love. What would a relationship with him even look like? He was a pararescuer, which meant he’d leave on regular tours overseas. Tours she had no guarantee he’d ever come back from. It was in his job description to charge into situations most people fled from. Maybe he’d come home from this one, but it was only a matter of time before he’d have to go in to save a wounded soldier and wouldn’t make it back. Their motto—which she’d looked up when Drew first bragged about his little brother—was That Others May Live. He’d always be more concerned about the soldiers he rescued than his own well-being.

She might very well be left waiting for him to come home from a mission for the rest of her life, nursing yet another scar on her soul because she’d taken a risk on someone she knew would hurt her in the end.

No way could she handle losing another person. Not like that.

She fell asleep still contemplating the potential future, which was probably why she woke up the next morning with a sense of unease and vague memories of nightmares. She adjusted her clothing and winced at the realization that she’d been wearing them for over twenty-four hours.

A shower was definitely in order. And she’d be a whole lot more confident about that plan if she could work up the courage to leave the bedroom and walk the three steps down the hallway to the bathroom door.

It’s not like he’s going to jump out of the shadows and drag you back into the bedroom. Her entire body heated at the thought, which just went to show sometimes people were really foolish when it came to sex. She’d always known that, but things hit a little bit closer to home now that she knew what all the fuss was about.

She made it to the bathroom with no appearance of Ryan and breathed a sigh of relief as she stepped into the shower. Bri stared at the handful of condom packets shoved into the rack between jumbo-sized containers of shampoo and conditioner. Exactly how much sex had Avery and Drew thought they’d have?

The only warning she got was a strange cranking sound, and then the water turned from pleasantly warm to heart-stoppingly cold. She screamed and scrambled for the faucet, screaming again when Ryan pounded on the bathroom door.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine.” Just shaking like a leaf with goose bumps covering her entire body. “Just…go about your business.”

“Not until you come out.”

He was an impossible pain in the ass, and he’d no doubt be content to sit outside the door until she did just that. Then she realized—entirely too late—that she didn’t have any clothes to change into.

Chapter Eleven

Ryan still wasn’t ready to face Bri, especially after the way things had gone last night. But then he’d heard her scream and reacted. It was becoming a nasty habit when it came to her, but it was a little late to worry about it now. Not when she was slipping out the door with a bath towel clutched to her chest that didn’t cover nearly as much as she seemed to think it did.

It was an effort to keep his gaze glued to her face, but he managed. “There are some clothes in the closet.”

“Thank you.” She started inching down the hall toward the bedroom, and he had the sudden thought that if he let her go without saying anything else, it was entirely possible she’d spend the next two days locked behind that door.

“Bri—”

“Let’s just pretend it never happened, okay? We can’t get out of this cabin for the rest of the weekend, and I’d rather not spend it screaming at each other.”

No, there were definitely better kinds of screaming they could be doing. He shook his head, pushing the thought away. It didn’t matter how much he wanted her. He was serious last night—if she didn’t make up her goddamn mind about this thing between them, he wasn’t having sex with her again.

He realized he was staring. “Yeah. Of course.” He stepped back so she could walk down the hallway unimpeded and told himself it was for the best. As soon as the door closed behind her, he hopped in the shower and endured a five-minute freezing scrub-down. He made it out in time to hear Bri muttering up a storm. Ryan rounded the corner and froze at the sight of her scrambling to clean up the remains of three broken eggs on the floor. How the hell had she dropped so many? She glanced up, caught him standing there, and shot to her feet, her elbow smacking the spatula and sending it spinning across the counter to join the eggs on the floor.

“Would you like some help?”

“I’ve got it, thanks.” She turned around and went back to wiping the egg mess up. She should have looked sloppy in her oversize sweats and T-shirt but, fresh-faced and with her hair pulled back, it was everything he could do not to come around the island and strip her naked.

Good to know his resolve not to touch her was holding on.

“I’m not exactly a great cook, but I figured I could get breakfast started without too much trouble.” She motioned to a carton of eggs and a pan she was in the process of breaking them into.

Ryan choked as she dumped what must have been half the saltshaker into the eggs. “That’s great. I can take over if you want to use the bathroom to finish getting ready.”

She frowned. “Why would I need to ‘finish getting ready’?”

Well, shit. He glanced at the fridge, the stove, and the kitchen island, but none of them gave him a way out of the hole he’d just dug himself into. There was no safe answer to that question, but the line between her eyebrows was getting deeper by the second, so staying silent wasn’t an option either. Since he didn’t particularly want to fight, he tried to change the subject. “I make a mean breakfast scramble. I think I saw hash browns in the freezer.”

Bri moved forward, blocking his way. “You think I should go put makeup on or pretty myself up, don’t you?”

This was exactly the conclusion he hadn’t wanted her to jump to. Truth be told, she looked more edible than the eggs burning in the pan behind her. “You look fine without makeup.”

Instead of calming down, her eyes flashed. “Fine. You mean fine for a mousy librarian surrounded by books, right? Why would I bother with makeup since no one expects me to be pretty?”

Christ. He took her shoulders and gave her a little shake. “That’s not what I’m saying and you goddamn well know it. If you weren’t determined to be so fucking difficult, I’d have no problem dragging you to the bedroom right here and now.” But he wasn’t some sex toy, here for her enjoyment. Ryan let her go and stepped back. “Since that’s not going to happen, why don’t you sit back with your book or something while I toss those eggs and make a scramble?”

She backed toward the stove, like she thought he was going to jump around her and grab the pan. “What’s wrong with my eggs?”

“For one, they’re burning. For two, I just watched you dump a day’s sodium intake onto them.”

“They’re fine.” She wielded the spatula, her chin up as if daring him to contradict her.

She wanted to play queen of the castle? Fine. She could choke on the damn eggs. “Knock yourself out, then.”

Bri grabbed two plates and shoveled a pair of messed up–looking eggs onto each. She shoved one across the island to him. “Enjoy.”

So she expected him to suffer, too? Fine. He’d survived Hell Night during indoctrination. Nineteen hours of the worst torture training could serve up, and he hadn’t washed out. Eating two eggs should be nothing compared to that.

He was proven horrifically wrong when he took his first bite and was pretty sure his tongue would never be the same. Or maybe it was all part of her plan to make sure his mouth was too dried up to talk for the rest of the weekend. As plans went, it was brilliant. He got up, doing his damnedest to keep any expression off his face, and went to the fridge in search of some kind of juice to combat the horrible taste. Water wasn’t going to cut it today.

Behind him, Bri made a choked noise. He glanced over as he grabbed the orange juice, schooling his face to show nothing. “Problem?” How’s that pride tasting now?

She coughed, a pained expression on her face. “Not in the least. How’re the eggs?”

How far was she willing to take this? Because if she thought she could outlast him, she was crazy. He’d eaten worse things than this—not many, but still. Ryan poured himself a giant glass of juice and smiled, though it felt more like a baring of teeth. “They’re great.”

She flinched, then seemed to gather her resolve. “If you’re enjoying them so much, I should make you seconds.”

The little brat. She would in a heartbeat, too, and smile sweetly while she double-dosed the salt. He took a long drink and nearly groaned with relief when it hit his parched tongue. “I’d never be so selfish. You must be starving, though. I don’t see how two eggs would be enough after the workout I gave you last night.”

Her mouth thinned, blue eyes sparking behind those glasses he still wanted to take off even though he kind of wanted to throttle her right now, too. “You know, that’s a fantastic idea. And since I’ll be cooking anyway, it’ll be no trouble for me to make us both more.”

“Awesome.” If he died from high salt toxicity, it was just one more thing to lay at the feet of Drew and Avery. It would serve them right to show up here and find him and Bri mummified, all moisture pulled from their bodies.

They ate with jerky movements, staring each other down. He kept waiting for her to flinch and back off, but she wasn’t showing a bit of weakness. And because of how things had played out between them up to this point, he couldn’t. So he forced down bite after bite of egg while he fantasized about bending her over this counter and fucking some sense into them both.

She finished her last egg and set down her fork, looking a little green around the edges. “You know—” Her hand flew to her mouth, eyes going wide.

Though part of him wanted to leave her to her much-deserved suffering, Ryan couldn’t do it. He slid his half-filled glass over. “Drink.”

“Thanks,” she whispered. Then she drained the entire thing.

He couldn’t let this go on. He wasn’t sure they’d survive a second helping. Even now, his stomach was making its unhappiness known��which was saying something since he’d eaten some questionable things over the years. He took a deep breath. “If you’re still hungry, how about oatmeal instead?” Hopefully it would soak up some of the salt.

For a second, he thought she’d argue or insist on the goddamn eggs, but then Bri offered up a sheepish smile. “That sounds a lot better than my idea.”

He hopped out of his chair and got to work. If he gave her too long to think about it, it was entirely possible she’d change her mind.

Once he disposed of the eggs and got a pot of water situated on the stove—and was facing away from her—he rubbed his stomach and grimaced. Pride might have been the name of the game, but it was pretty damn stupid to muscle down terrible food just to prove a point. Still, he couldn’t help feeling a thread of satisfaction that he wasn’t the first one to blink.

It was high time he got the ball back in his court.

…

Bri sat perfectly still, trying to convince herself she wasn’t going to throw up. There was a reason her oven sat mostly unused at home. She didn’t bake or roast or cook as a general rule. The only reason she’d tried this morning was because she needed something to do while Ryan showered, to distract herself from thoughts of water running over his naked body. She’d reasoned that he made dinner last night, so she might as well pull her own weight this morning.

She should have stuck with cold cereal.

But then he’d come in with his comments about her going to the bathroom to finish getting ready, and she’d forgotten all about trying not to fight. How was she supposed to keep her temper when his words felt tattooed on her brain? Mousy librarian. No matter what had happened since they met, he still thought of her like that.

Would he like her better if she wore makeup?

She gave herself a mental kick. It didn’t matter. She didn’t want to be with someone who thought she needed to wear makeup every second of every day in order to be beautiful. Not that he’d ever called her beautiful. God, she was giving herself a headache with all this mental circling.

Or maybe that was the sodium overload.

If she hadn’t been so angry, she would have taken him up on his offer to make a scramble and just tossed the eggs, but she’d wanted to prove to him that there was something she could do right, even if it was something so small as fried eggs. She was horribly wrong on that count. From the moment she’d started cooking, things had gone sideways. And he hadn’t reacted at that first bite, or the second, or any of them. She already felt so out-of-control around him, admitting she couldn’t eat something that had been her idea in the first place was harder to swallow than the eggs. So she’d forced down the entire thing.

Looking back, it was the highest degree of stupidity, but he seemed to bring out that side of her like no one else she’d met. She’d never had a problem with controlling herself before, let alone to the point where she was having sex on her porch swing—or getting into car accidents. But with Ryan, it seemed the most natural thing in the world to climb into his lap and let him do wicked things to her. At least it did when they weren’t at each other’s throats.

Why, oh why, had she eaten those stupid eggs?

She sat on the chair she’d started to think of as hers and watched him dump a few cups of oats into the boiling water. Good Lord. Couldn’t he at least resort to the little microwavable packets? She knew she shouldn’t feel so damn irritated that he could cook, but it didn’t stop her from doing exactly that. “Are you trying to make me feel inadequate, or does it just come naturally to you?”

To her surprise, he gave her a small smile. “I don’t get a chance to cook all that often, and I’m kind of enjoying it. My team will eat damn near anything, so it’s nice to feed someone who might actually appreciate it.”

She blinked. When was the last time someone made something for her with the hope she’d appreciate it? Avery cooked from time to time, but she couldn’t care less if Bri and Drew ate or not. “You’re doing a whole lot better than I am at this point—except for the corn bread.”

“That would have been really great.” He grinned. “But I’m okay with how things turned out, jokes about burning this place to the ground aside.”

Her face flamed at the memory. “Can we please not talk about that?”

“You were more than willing to talk about it last night.”

Things had changed since then and he knew it. He was testing her. She straightened, but refused to take the bait. “Where did you learn to cook?”

For a long moment, she thought he might not let the previous subject go, but he shrugged. “I kind of learned as I went. Dad wasn’t much of a cook, even when he was around, and I got really tired of Drew’s burned grilled cheese sandwiches after the fifth straight day of eating them.”

She could sympathize. A few of her foster parents had stuck to meals that could be made in bulk and rotated on a weekly basis, while others hadn’t always worried about whether things were edible. But she’d never once considered taking things into her own hands the way Ryan apparently had. Which brought up the question… “What happened to your mom?”

“She died when I was two. From what people say, my dad wasn’t a bad guy before then, but he let missing her take over his life.” A shadow passed over his face, lingering in his eyes as he looked at her.

To get them off the shaky ground, she asked, “Why did you join the Air Force?”

He stirred the oatmeal. “I never really fit in here, even as a kid. Everywhere I turned, I had to deal with being Drunk Billy’s kid. Most people didn’t judge me for it, but there was no escaping the fact that everyone knew my dad spent more nights passed out in strange places than he did at home.”

He made a face as he set the pan on the oven and adjusted the heat. “But beyond that, I love history, and I’ve probably spent more time in that library of yours than you have, reading up on different places. All I wanted for as long as I can remember was to travel and see where history went down. I wanted to get away from a town where no one seems to get past something I did in high school.”

Bri folded her hands in front of her, feeling the ridiculous need to apologize for misjudging him, at least on one level. “It’s a funny story. People enjoy telling it.”

“It was a long time ago. When most people talk about the Flannerys, they’re thinking of how great Drew turned out, being sheriff and all. I’m just the kid who burned down the damn school, even though I’ve accomplished a whole hell of a lot since then.” He opened the fridge and poked around in the fruit crisper drawer. “Jesus.”

She peered over and couldn’t stop a laugh from escaping. “What in God’s name would possess them to put condoms in there?”

“I can’t decide if they thought we were actually going to have enough sex to justify what is obviously a Costco-sized box of condoms, or if they’re just fucking with us.” He pulled the condom packet out of the fridge and tossed it onto the counter farthest from her.

“It may very well be a combination of both.”

“Good point.” He pulled out a carton of berries and milk. “As to why I went with the Air Force, specifically, I picked the PJs because my uncle was one.”

She tilted her head to the side. “PJs? Is that the abbreviation for pararescuer?”

“Yeah. I used to beg him to tell me stories about the people he’d rescued.” He paused to look at her. “Something he said always stuck with me—it’s a whole lot harder to save a man’s life than it is to pull a trigger and end it. Though apparently my dad didn’t get that memo.”

Hearing his reasons sent a pang through her, a pang that only got worse when she realized what the last comment must mean. She couldn’t bring herself to ask if his dad had taken a gun to himself. Ryan hadn’t had a perfect upbringing any more than she had. A sense of kinship welled up inside her, snuffing out the last smidgen of irritation from the egg incident. “Your dad...”

“He killed himself a few years after I graduated.” He turned away. “I’ve never regretted leaving, even considering that, because joining the PJs was the best thing to ever happened to me.”

“You’re a hero.” More so than any man in her romance novels because he was real.

“I serve my country, same as any other soldier.”

Ryan took a package of brown sugar out of the cupboard and set it next to the stuff in front of her. “What about you? How did you end up in sleepy Wellingford? You’re from California, right?”

Though she didn’t particularly want to talk about herself, this seemed a safe enough subject. “I researched small towns with openings—or soon-to-be openings—within their library on the East Coast, and Wellingford was the top of that list. I didn’t expect Mrs. Cleaver to retire quite so quickly, but things just sort of worked out.”

“It has to be hard to live so far away from your family.”

She stared at her nails. “I don’t have any.”

He must have picked up on her reluctance to go deeper into the subject, because he didn’t push the issue. “So you did the equivalent of throwing a dart at one end of the map, then up and moved? That’s pretty spontaneous.”

If he had any idea what she would have done to get out of Los Angeles, he wouldn’t have thought so. Even though she knew it wasn’t the city’s fault her parents died in that car crash, she couldn’t help hating it. Wellingford was something fresh and new and untainted by her past. “I suppose, though it didn’t feel like that at the time.” She took the offered bowl of oatmeal and dosed it with milk and brown sugar. The first bite nearly made her eyes roll back in her head. “Every time I’ve tried to make oatmeal from scratch, I always end up with mush. This is so much better than mush.”

He laughed. “Practice and self-preservation.”

“Thank you.” Thank you for cooking for me. Thank you for sharing a little bit of your past. Thank you for listening to a sliver of mine and not pressing for more.

The peace between them lasted the rest of the fifteen minutes it took for them to eat the entire pot of oatmeal. For all the anxiety still swirling inside of her, the silence was…comfortable. Maybe they’d reached some sort of common ground?

Ryan stood and reached for her bowl.

Bri held on when he tried to pull away. “What are you doing?”

Ryan gave it another yank, a familiar frown settling over his face. “The dishes.”

“Absolutely not. You cooked. I can do the dishes.”

“It’s fine. I’ll take care of them.” He tugged on the bowl.

Apparently now that sharing time was over, he was back to making her feel completely inadequate. She tugged back harder, not even sure why she was bothering. She hated the dishes. They were one of those necessary evils that marrying a billionaire reformed playboy would solve. Not that she’d know what to do with one if she met him. “I said I’d do the dishes, and I will.”

“You’re just arguing to argue. Again. Knock it off.”

“You knock it off.”

“Just let it go, Bri. With your luck, you’ll probably find a knife to cut yourself on.”

She was so surprised, she let go of the bowl. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Considering how well things went this morning, I believe it’s pretty self-explanatory.”

When she’d fantasized about meeting her very own alpha male, she hadn’t stopped to consider that they were giant pains in the backside. Not that Ryan was hers, but the same principle applied. The women in her books never seemed to have problems like the ones she kept coming across. “I’m not some damsel in distress who needs to be saved.”

He gave her a look like she was stupid. “I didn’t say that. You’re a grown-up. I’m sure you manage to get dressed each morning, pay your bills, and show up to your job on time. What you can’t do is be left unsupervised in a kitchen.”

“Says the man who can’t be trusted near an open flame.”

Jaw clenched, he dumped the rest of the dishes in the sink and turned on the faucet. “If you want to keep me away from anything flammable, go grab some more firewood from the lean-to so we don’t have to cling to each other to keep warm.”

“I’d rather freeze to death than touch you again.”

“You’ve said that before.” He didn’t even look at her. “Good thing I chopped a shitload of firewood, huh?”

Bri stomped back to the bedroom to look for her boots, because the alternative was to grab one of the cast-iron pans and try to pound some sense into his thick head. She slammed out of the back door, not sure what she was so angry about, only that it was Ryan’s fault.

Everything was his fault.

If he’d just been some nice guy—like Drew and Avery claimed—then she could have smiled politely through their interactions up to this point and gone on her way. Even being stuck in this cabin with a nice guy wouldn’t be so terrible. But no, from the moment he’d shown up at her door looking like temptation personified, he’d proceeded to push her buttons, then turn around and shake her world to its foundations by making her feel things she never could have anticipated.

As if that wasn’t bad enough—and it was plenty bad—he’d gone and changed the game. How was she supposed to keep her distance if he insisted on showing her glimpses of a childhood not so far off her own? Hadn’t she run from LA like the hounds of hell were chasing her? The similarities weren’t comfortable.

Nor was the idea of keeping her hands off of him.

Instead of clearing her mind, the cold air made her more acutely aware of her body. Her stupid nipples hardened, which only made her think of how good it felt when Ryan put his mouth on them. “Stop it.”

Wonderful. Now she was talking to herself. She shouldered through the back door and stalked across the room to dump the firewood in the metal holder. Her ire lasted only as long as it took her to turn around and catch a glimpse of Ryan washing the dishes with the same single-minded intensity he had when his hands were on her body.

Heat chased the cold from her skin and left a flush in its wake. Oh, this wasn’t good. If she stood here much longer, she was going to end up walking over there and seeing just how serious he was about holding out on her.

Chapter Twelve

Ryan finished washing and drying the dishes and moved on to cleaning the rest of the kitchen. It didn’t really need the scrub-down, but he needed something, anything, to keep himself away from Bri. Though she seemed ready to go toe-to-toe with him again, his goals had changed with their conversation.

While he cooked the oatmeal, he’d gotten a glimpse of the side of Bri that sparked his curiosity in a huge way. She’d be easy to write off if she didn’t show him those flashes of vulnerability and sweetness. More than that, the way she shied from talking about her past only intrigued him more. There were shadows there, and he wanted to find out exactly what had brought her to Wellingford.

Hell, he wanted to know everything.

It didn’t help that she was wrapped around her book on the couch, absently running her fingers through the ends of her hair. She was totally lost to reality, and he had a few ideas on how to bring her back. None of which he could implement, because he was supposed to be talking with her—not yanking off her clothes and kissing every inch of her body. She looked so damn comfortable he was tempted to curl up next to her, which was exactly the wrong thing to do if he was intent on keeping his hands to himself.

He built up the fire, watching her out of the corner of his eye. She didn’t look up, not even to throw out a comment about him burning something down. Disappointment flared, followed by the realization… Holy shit, he actually enjoyed bickering with her.

Ryan sat back on his heels and gave her his full attention. She didn’t so much as twitch. That must be one hell of a book if she was able to ignore him—and the opportunity to rib him—so completely. Though common sense said he should just let it be, he couldn’t sit here and let her ignore him. And the temptation to see if he could provoke her, just a little, was too much to resist.

He dropped onto the sofa across from her. “What are you reading?”

“A book.”

He could already see her checking out on him, her attention sliding back to the words on the page in front of her. An idea took root, slipping out of his mouth before he had a chance to think better of it. “Read it to me.”

That got her attention. She actually tore her gaze from the book and frowned at him. “What?”

“I don’t know if you noticed, but this place doesn’t have much in the way of entertainment. So entertain me.”

“I’m not a performing monkey.”

“Never said you were.” He held up his hands. Bickering was one thing, but an actual argument would only end with them right back where they started. “Throw me a bone, here. I’m about to go out of my mind.”

“It’s been fifteen minutes since we had breakfast. You can’t possibly be that bored already.”

Maybe not, but he was having a hard time remembering why he wasn’t supposed to seduce her when Bri sat there, all comfortable and kissable. “Come on, Bri. Please.”

She sighed. “It’s a romance. You aren’t going to be interested.”

“On the contrary—there’s nothing like an intriguing romance. Is it good?”

“You’re really interested?” She looked at him over the top of her glasses. He didn’t think now was the time to tell her that her doing that sent a bolt of desire through him so strongly, he almost scrapped his resolve and closed the distance between them. No. Jumping back into having sex would accomplish even less than fighting. He gave his best sincere look. “Yep.”

“If you promise to refrain from commentary, then I will.”

“I’ll be as silent as Mr. Smith.”

The corner of her mouth twitched. “He’s a wonderful listener.”

“I’ll be just as good. I promise.” God, he hoped this wasn’t one of those bodice-rippers. His buddy’s wife was into those, and James was known to bitch about them from time to time. Then again, he did it with a grin on his face, so Ryan didn’t think he minded all that much. “So what’s the setup?”

“The hero is a duke who’s trying to find the group of people who killed his little sister. The heroine grew up on the streets in his city and has had to do some pretty terrible stuff to keep herself alive. They met when she sneaked into his room to steal this pendant he has so she can pay to free her sister, who’s been taken captive by a rival group. They are just about to get married to solve both their problems.”

Well, hell. His head was already spinning. He eyed the book. She wasn’t more than a quarter of the way through—he could catch up. “Got it.”

“Okay, then. Here goes.” She took another deep breath, as if steeling herself. “Dmitri knew he couldn’t trust Savannah, knew it right down into the depths of his soul, but he was unable to walk away…”

Ryan knew exactly how this dude felt.

…

Bri got lost in the turning of the pages and the unfolding of the relationship between Dmitri and Savannah. She did a Story Time session several times a week, so it felt perfectly natural to read aloud, even if she was reading romance to Ryan and not a picture book to a group of prekindergartners.

She was so caught up in the conflict that she was two pages into a sex scene before she realized what had happened. Oh hell. She tried to ignore the flaming of her face and carefully set her bookmark between the pages and shut the book. “I think that’s enough for now.”

“Aw, don’t be like that. You were just getting to the good part.” At some point, he’d stretched out over the couch, making himself at home like he was some kind of sexy cat.

Sexy cat? Obviously the book had gone to her head, because she couldn’t help but think that he’d make an excellent shifter, though he’d probably be more wolf than one of the cat family. She wished she could blame the heat pulsing between her legs and through her body on the story she’d read, but it’d be far from the truth.

It was Ryan.

He was all barely contained strength and sex appeal. She wasn’t immune by a long shot. Though, if she was perfectly honest, she hadn’t tried very hard to ignore his appeal. She shifted under his gaze, wanting to tell him to look away, but that’d mean admitting how much he affected her. “My throat hurts from talking so much.”

It was a dirty lie, but she didn’t think she could handle reading a sex scene while he sat there and watched her. Not to mention Jenny Ellis was known for her explicit language, which was fine when reading alone in the privacy of her own home, but this was hardly that.

Worse still, if she kept reading, he’d know what was happening.

He gave her a lazy grin. “Come on, Bri. I want to know how Dmitri is finally going to talk Savannah out of her panties.”

“It’s not a game for him. He cares about her.” Or he would, after they’d been sleeping together for some time and then she ran, which would make him realize exactly how much he loved her.

“Honey, I’d think he more than cares about her.” He pushed to his feet and stretched his arms over his head, making his shirt ride up to reveal a slice of tanned stomach. She was so distracted by the sight that he was nearly on top of her before she realized he’d moved.

“What are you doing?”

“Pass it over.”

Surely he wasn’t suggesting what she was afraid of? In case she was right, Bri slid sideways until she could tuck the book under a pillow. “Pass what over?”

“The book. If your throat hurts, then I’ll read the rest. It’s my turn anyway.”

If there was anything worse than reading this scene to him, it was having him read it to her. How was she supposed to focus on the story when it was his deep voice spelling out all the naughty things Dmitri was doing to Savannah?

Bri met his gaze and understood that he fully expected her to run. Her pride reared its head, demanding she hold her ground. She passed him the book. “Whatever you say.”

“Smart girl.” He winked and then strode into the kitchen.

What the heck? “What are you doing?”

Ryan gave her a look. “You said your throat hurt. Tea will help with that. Besides, it’s been a while since breakfast. I’m starving, so you have to at least be a little hungry.”

He was taking care of her? She sat there, trying to reconcile this man with the one who had pushed her buttons since the moment they met. Yes, he’d made her food and taken the dishes. Then there was the way he’d used his hand on the small of her back the night of their date, and how he’d followed her out of Avery’s party after she bolted. Not to mention the firewood and chili and letting her sleep in the bed…

Oh my God. He’s been trying to take care of me all along.

Since she didn’t know how to deal with that, she accepted the mug with a murmured “Thanks” and decided it was wiser to stay silent. She could get used to watching Ryan in the kitchen. He put together three sandwiches, cut them in half, and arranged them on two plates.

“Are chips okay?”

The strange feeling inside her intensified. The fact that he had her all out of sorts over a simple question about chips only went on to demonstrate how pathetic her history was. “Yes.”

“Good.” He came over and set a plate on the coffee table in front of her before retreating to his couch and systematically devouring his sandwiches. Ryan ate with the kind of single-mindedness of someone who’d gone hungry before enough times to know when to appreciate the presence of food.

She understood. His father had been pretty freaking neglectful if Ryan was forced to learn to cook to fend for himself. Even growing up with Drew, his basic needs hadn’t been met any more than hers had.

“Are you going to eat?”

Bri jumped, realizing she’d been staring at him so long he’d finished his food. “Yes. Thank you.”

“So polite when you want to be.” He smiled. “Do you need more tea?”

It’d only now cooled down to an acceptable drinking temperature. “I think I’m okay.”

After one last look at her, he leaned back and propped his feet on the arm of the couch. Ryan opened the book and draped the brown-and-pink ribboned bookmark over the pillow next to him. Seeing feminine things like ribbons in his wide hands was ridiculous. And absolutely adorable. “Where were we? Oh yes, Dmitri has Savannah pressed against the wall, bracketed by his arms. Does that sound familiar?”

She glanced over sharply, but he didn’t seem to be insinuating anything. Which meant comparing this scene to the one that had played out in the hallway last night rested solely on her shoulders. She brought her knees to her chest, suddenly not nearly as hungry as she’d thought. It didn’t matter who was reading it or what the character’s history was—this book was just fiction.

“Dmitri leaned in until his lips rested against her throat. It should have been terrifying having this massive man so close, and there was a healthy dose of fear running through Savannah, but desire beat a steady drum, a siren call she wasn’t sure he could resist.

“‘Tell me. Tell me what you want.’

“‘You. All of you.’ Everything he had.

“His hands ran down her shoulders to cup her hips. A deft move and her dress was up around her thighs, baring her for his pleasure.”

Bri froze with her cup halfway to her lips. God, they weren’t even to the truly dirty parts and she was already having difficulty breathing. Ryan’s voice woke all sorts of longings she didn’t know what to do with. No, that wasn’t true. The problem was she knew all too well what to do with them.

“Is there something wrong?”

She jumped, nearly spilling tea all down her front. “Not in the least.”

“Really? You’re not even remotely turned on by this?”

This was exactly what she’d been afraid of when he took the book from her. She took another drink of tea to buy herself time, hoping it would cover up the tremor in her voice. “Why would you think that?”

“Because I am.” He lifted the book, drawing her gaze south to where his level of desire was all too evident.

“But they haven’t even done anything yet. He’s barely touched her.” Why was she arguing this? What did it matter if he was turned on as a result of something practically PG?

Ryan folded the corner of the page, raising his eyebrows when she made a protesting noise at his treatment of the book. “Want to know why I’m turned on?”

Even though she knew better, she nodded.

“It’s because I’m picturing us in that position and I’m remembering how good you smell, and how things progressed from there, which has turned to thinking about how damn amazing your mouth feels around my cock.”

Oh God. Bri jumped to her feet, sending her tea mug flying. She spun on her heel, nearly tripped over the corner of the coffee table. That slowed her down enough to realize that she was letting him win by running away. The realization didn’t kill the urge, but she was able to stop moving and turn to face him. “You’re not nearly funny as you think you are.”

“Honey, I’m as serious as a heart attack.”

He was messing with her, just like he had been from the beginning. He had to be. But she couldn’t stop herself from saying, “But you think I’m mousy.” Even as the words came out of her mouth, she cursed herself for giving him that much.

Ryan set the book down and pushed to his feet. He actually seemed pained as he skirted the edge of the coffee table and came to stand before her. “I swear to God, Bri, I’m sorry that I ever said that. You’re the furthest thing from mousy.”

Childhood instinct demanded she lash out before he saw just how badly those earlier words had hurt her, but Bri forced it down for the first time in her life. She couldn’t keep striking out at him blindly just to keep him from getting too close. Like it or not, he was already there.

But that didn’t mean he felt the same way. She licked her lips. “You seemed pretty convinced it was the truth that first night.”

“I lied.”

While she was still trying to process that bombshell, he reached out and traced her bottom lip with his thumb. She went still, waiting for the inevitable follow-through. He would kiss her and it would be all over.

Ryan surprised her, though. He took a large step back. “How do you feel about Scrabble?”

Chapter Thirteen

Not taking advantage of that silently offered kiss might have been a mistake, but Ryan wasn’t about to give in to how badly he wanted her. Not when she hadn’t figured out her issues and he couldn’t be sure she wouldn’t toss him aside immediately afterward so she could retreat behind her emotional walls. He guided her back to the spot on the couch she’d just occupied, picked up the fallen tea mug and plate of sandwiches, and retreated to the kitchen.

While he went to work throwing together another sandwich for her, she looked over her shoulder at him. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Sure I do. You dumped half your tea on the other one. Can’t have you passing out halfway through our game.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Scrabble.”

“Scrabble. Monopoly. Cards. We don’t have a lot in the way of options, but I figured you’d want a change in pace from the reading.” Ryan gave her a grin that had gotten him out of loads of trouble as a kid. “Though I could definitely get on board with some more Dmitri and Savannah.”

“No, thank you.”

“So a game it is, then.” When she still hesitated, he pushed his advantage. “It’s got to be better than locking yourself in the room alone, right?”

She smiled a little, as if that was exactly what she’d been planning on doing before he headed her off at the pass. “It’s a tempting offer.”

“I’ll throw in dinner tonight, too.” He lifted the plate with her new sandwich. “I promise not to bite.” No matter how much you want me to.

A blush spread across her cheeks, signaling that her mind had gone the same place his did. He didn’t call her on it, though. Instead he grabbed the board game and sat down, pausing long enough to pass over her plate.

He started setting up the game, but the majority of his attention stayed on her as she took her first bite. “I promise to go easy on you. You know, in favor of us continuing to get along without fighting.”

“You’ll go easy on me?” Her faint smile turning into the real thing. “Promise?”

He decided he liked this little hint of arrogance she’d showed. He mixed up the letter tiles. “Want to make this interesting?”

“Don’t you dare say we’ll turn this into strip Scrabble.”

Well, now that she mentioned it, that wasn’t a terrible idea. No, Flannery. You’re supposed to be behaving yourself, remember? That means clothing stays in place. “I was thinking something more along the lines of a wager.”

“A bet?” If anything, her smile spread wider. “Winner takes all?”

She really wasn’t helping his self-control saying things like that with a sparkle in her eyes, because now all he could think about was taking her. He cleared his throat. “I was thinking of something a little less dramatic. If I win, you tell me about your childhood.”

Bri flinched, her teasing disappearing as if it’d never been. “I don’t see the point.”

In their earlier conversation, he’d seen a sliver of what she’d been hiding. It was clear she wasn’t giving up more than that tiny bit of information without a fight. “That’s what I want if I win. Your turn.”

“This is juvenile.”

“Maybe. Stop stalling and pick something.”

“I don’t even know.” Her face flamed again, showing her lie more clearly than anything else could have.

Ryan leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. He waited as she shifted, becoming more twitchy as the seconds ticked past. When she looked over her shoulder toward the hallway, he said, “Anything you want.”

She closed her eyes for a brief moment and then opened them, her shoulders going back as if she were stepping onto a battlefield. Maybe she thought she was. “I want a kiss.”

Because of the effort it had obviously taken her to say the words out loud, he didn’t laugh. He held out a hand and shook hers firmly. “Deal. If you win, I think I can make that happen.”

“If I win.” This time her laugh was significantly more carefree. “Ryan, you’re playing Scrabble with a librarian who thinks a fun Friday night is curling up with some tea and a new book. You don’t stand a chance.”

He definitely liked this cocky side of her. And since they weren’t yelling at each other, this was a step in the right direction. “I guess we’ll see. Ladies first.”

…

“…and with the triple word score, that brings me up to forty-six points.”

Bri stared at the columns of numbers on her score sheets and couldn’t believe it. She was down to her last four tiles and Ryan was beating her by a truly embarrassing amount. It was her own hubris at fault. She assumed that her history of reading would give her an edge—she hadn’t stopped to consider his reading history. Maybe it was time to acknowledge that she’d been an ass for letting her issues color her perception of him. This man was more than just the wild boy who’d burned down the high school and set her blood on fire. Realizing that wouldn’t change their past interactions much, but it did affect their future ones.

Particularly the one where she lost this game and was forced to open up all sorts of old scars she didn’t want to deal with.

They said time healed all wounds. They lied. The only way she’d gotten past her abandonment issues was to create a life for herself where she was as safe as possible, full of people who weren’t going anywhere. The fact that Avery and Drew were the only people on that list was kind of sad, but she was okay with it. Once those two made her their own, she couldn’t have gotten away if she wanted to. And in that realization, there was a level of security and safety she hadn’t expected to find.

There was neither of those things with Ryan. He loved to travel and hated Wellingford—for what she was increasingly forced to admit were legitimate reasons—so he’d never be content to put down the roots she so desperately craved. He might not be the wild child she’d originally pegged him for, but that didn’t change that he was guaranteed to leave. Just like every other person in her life had left.

“Bri.”

She blinked and looked up. “Yes?”

Though he grinned, his blue eyes were kind. “Are you going to go, or just stare at the board?”

“Just considering my best move.” And admitting there was no way to come back from this. She put an O next to an available G. “Go. Three points.”

“Nice.” He was blatantly making an effort not to laugh, but there was no meanness there.

“Shut up.” She shook her head. “Your turn.”

His smile turned apologetic as he put down the last two tiles on his board. “Pin. Five points. And whatever you have on your board since I’m out.”

She cursed aloud as she added the Z and X to his points—and again when she totaled them up. “You won by a landslide.”

“You put up a good fight.” He shrugged. “This was the only game we had in the house when I was a kid. I’m pretty sure Drew has the Scrabble dictionary memorized, because I couldn’t beat him until I was sixteen.”

It would have been nice to know that before she’d agreed to this game, but he’d won fair and square. Bri sighed. “Best two out of three?”

“Oh, we can play again. Right after you fulfill your end of the bargain.”

Crap. She’d hoped he’d just let it go. From the way he sat back and propped his heels on the coffee table, he had no intention of allowing her to weasel her way out of this. Which was only fair, no matter how much she didn’t like it. She had agreed to the terms, after all.

She smoothed her hair back. “I grew up in foster care.”

The rest of the story stuck in her throat. God, this was so much harder than she’d expected. She wanted to yell at him and storm off, or throw his own past and reputation in his face again, or do anything in order to avoid sharing these painful memories. When she looked at Ryan, he merely watched her, no expression on his face. The lack of pity was what gave her the strength to go on. “When I was six, my parents died in a car crash. Couples want to adopt babies, not little girls who wake up on a nightly basis screaming from nightmares and crying for their dead parents.”

When it looked like he was going to say something, she held up a hand. “It was a very long time ago. I grew up and got past it.” Mostly. “I bounced through three homes in as many years, and I learned the hard way to keep my head down and my mouth closed.”

“The hard way?” Something dangerous glinted in his eyes.

Oh dear. “I wasn’t abused, if that’s what you’re asking.” She wanted to leave it at that, but Bri found herself elaborating. Ryan had shared part of his past with her, so maybe he would understand the struggles she’d lived through more than Avery did. “It was more…neglect. I was in the last home for nine months and the woman who ran it was more concerned with collecting her checks than with things such as making sure we had a healthy diet and appropriate clothes.” A fact made worse by the bigger kids who took her share of both.

“Christ.”

Bri toyed with the string of her sweats, wishing they were thicker, wishing for something more to cover herself with, as if by covering her body she’d cover up the emotional vulnerability she felt. “I survived. I grew up. I got scholarships. I went to college and made something of myself. And here I am now.”

“I’d say I’m sorry but, like you said, you survived and flourished.” Before she could entirely process his words, he moved on. “What did you do for fun?”

This, at least, was an easy answer. “The library. It was my everything—my fun, my escape, my refuge. I know that sounds silly—or maybe a little pathetic—but it was the truth. What better way to escape the realities of your life than to read about someone else’s? And the local library had what felt like a million books at the time. Countless worlds to be explored and people to meet.” Belatedly, she realized he’d found much the same escape growing up, if his story earlier was anything to go by.

“All in the safety of your own place.”

She shifted, not sure if she liked how close to the mark he’d hit. In her books, she was assured some kind of happy ending. If she didn’t like the way things were going, she could simply put the book down and walk away. End of story.

Life didn’t work the same way.

“Something like that.”

He started to ask another question, but must have caught the way she tensed up, because he changed tactics. “What’s your favorite part of your job?”

This, at least, she could talk about without worrying about emotional pitfalls. “All of it.”

He laughed. “How about you narrow it down a little?”

She wasn’t sure she could. But as soon as that thought hit, Bri knew the answer. “The kids. I’ve set up several programs for young readers, and I can’t begin to express how happy it makes me. I love recommending books to kids and seeing that click when they fall in love. It’s priceless—something I never get tired of.”

“What kind of book would you have chosen for me?”

He really had a gift for putting her on the spot. “I don’t know. It’s hard to say, not knowing what kind of kid you were.” But she knew. She’d known the second they slipped from constantly arguing into something much more vulnerable.

“Come on, Bri. Just play the what-if game. What if I’d come in there and asked for a recommendation?”

“Pirates,” she blurted out.

Ryan started clearing the tiles from the board and dumping them back into the box. “Pirates?”

She took a few seconds to really think about it, but her answer remained the same. “Yes. The adventure and exploration and treasure seem like something that’d appeal to you. Not to mention taking it one step further and mapping out the sunken ships. It’d be a grand adventure.”

His slow smile made her heart skip a beat. “When we get back into town, I’d like to see those books.”

“Why?”

His grin widened. “I happen to have a thing for pirates.”

Just like that, she could picture him in mismatched clothing, with a bandana over his head and a captain’s hat. He’d look roguish and more than a few women would throw themselves at his feet. Goodness, she wanted to do so right now. Bri bit her lip and looked out the window. Change the subject. Change it right now before you go off the deep end and tell him that you’re losing the battle with yourself over everything that is Ryan.

He saved her from making an ass of herself. “Want to play again?”

Again? She wasn’t sure if she could handle another heartfelt confession like she’d just given. Bri rubbed her arms, trying to work away a chill she was pretty sure existed only in her mind. Her options lay before her, as clear as the bright blue sky outside. She could play again and, if the last game was any indication, actually enjoy herself. Or she could run back to the room and deal with the consequences of ripping open that particular emotional wound.

“Sure. Let’s go again.”

…

Bri’s words played in Ryan’s head through two more games of Scrabble. Drew had mentioned she hadn’t grown up easy, but he hadn’t gone into details. It was no wonder she didn’t let anyone in—the two people who were supposed to be there to care for her and see her grow up had died when she was just a little kid. He hadn’t had the best childhood ever, but he’d always had a safe place with Drew. Looking back, his older brother had borne the brunt of their father’s failures. Drew was the one who stepped up and made sure they were taken care of, even if he had to go without to make it happen. Bri hadn’t even had that.

“Quint.” She lay down her tiles with a grin. “With a double letter and triple word score, that’s seventy-two.”

Ryan made a face. “You whooped my ass this time around.” He counted up his tiles and shook his head. After being pretty damn close the last game, she had nearly doubled his score. “How about some dinner?”

“As long as it’s not corn bread and chili, I’m in.” She smacked a hand over her mouth. “Oh, God, I’m sorry. That was so rude.”

He laughed. “Hardly.” The fact that she apologized immediately after saying it let him know she was as aware of the change developing between them as he was.

And she didn’t want to go back to fighting, either.

He climbed to his feet and cracked his neck. “See, today wasn’t so bad.”

“No, it really wasn’t. The egg disaster aside.” She took his offered hand and let him pull her to her feet. “I almost feel bad for beating you so soundly that last time.”

He headed into the kitchen and started rummaging through the cabinets. “Probably as bad as I feel about beating you the first two times.”

“Probably.” She laughed again and went to the fridge. “How about a salad?”

“Do we have the makings for chicken Caesar?”

She bent over to pull open the produce drawer, giving him a heart-stopping view of her ass. Ryan turned away before she looked over, fighting for control of his body. Things were going so well, he didn’t want to fuck them up, and nothing made a situation quite as awkward as sporting a cock-stand in sweats.

When he could turn around without embarrassing himself, he moved over to where she had pulled precooked chicken out of the fridge. “I’ll get this if you want to chop the tomatoes.”

“You mean you’re actually going to let me touch a knife?” She gave him a strange look, but nodded. “Deal.”

Ryan opened the package, doing his damnedest to focus solely on chopping the meat into smaller pieces and not how she was so close he could reach over and run his hand down her spine. They worked in a comfortable silence, and he chopped the chicken and dumped it into the salad before he finally spoke. “I always felt like I was a day late and a dollar short as a kid.”

She filled two glasses with water and took the stool she’d occupied last night. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I know.” He passed over the bowl and slid into the seat next to her. “Though if you don’t want to know, I don’t have to keep going.”

She dished a plate of salad up for herself—and then him, too—before she answered. “I’d like to know.”

Since curiosity was a step in the right direction, he gave her a small smile. “I grew up spending as much time outside my house as possible. It could have been a lot worse, but Drew made sure there was always enough food and warm clothes. I think I would have liked to know a librarian like you, because Old Mrs. Cleaver scared the crap out of me. I used to hide in the stacks until she hobbled back to the front desk before I’d go find the books I was looking for.”

She smiled. “I thought she was perfectly nice.”

He suddenly realized how this must sound. She’d shared a horror story of a childhood and here he was whining about how is brother stepped up to the plate and made sure he didn’t go without. “Drew saved my life, even if I got into a lot of trouble along the way.”

“Does he know that?” Bri took a drink of her water. “I’m sorry, that’s none of my business. But your brother doesn’t really talk about what your childhood was like. All his stories are from high school and beyond.”

“High school was full of adventure.” Even if he’d never live it down. But he didn’t have any real regrets from some of the crazy shit he and his old brother got into.

“I’d like to know more, if that’s okay.”

“So he didn’t tell you about the time I started a grease fire trying to cook stir-fry?”

Her eyebrows rose and she snorted. “No, he neglected to mention that your history with fire started before senior year.”

For once, the reminder didn’t stick in his throat. “I was lucky he’d decided to supervise. He’s quick on his feet and got the baking soda into the pan before it did any real damage.”

“That’s fortunate.” She shook her head. “I can picture it all too easily. You guys must have been little hellions.”

“We still are if you ask around.” He took a few bites, letting the silence stretch a few minutes while they both ate. “Has he taken you up to the property?”

She rotated her fork with her fingers. “No. The only reason I know about it is because Avery mentioned it once.”

“The house is gone, I think. I haven’t been up there since I graduated. But the acreage is beautiful—miles and miles of forest and fields, with a nice little stream running through it.”

“It sounds beautiful.”

He’d always thought so. It had been a wonderland for him and his brother growing up, a direct counterpoint to the hell that their house was from time to time. “When I was eight, I went out to build a fort where Drew would never find me.” He shook his head. “There was a bee’s nest in the tree I tried to use for wood.”

“Oh no.” She pressed a hand to her mouth, but her eyes were dancing. “That must have been terrible.”

“After I’d stopping screaming and Old Joe made sure I wasn’t going to die, he whooped my ass for being stupid enough not to check the tree I was hammering on before I started.”

“Old Joe whooped you, huh?”

“Well, he threatened to.” His grin died. “The paramedics weren’t as forgiving, and neither were the horde of Wellingford residents who descended on the ambulance while I was getting patched up. I got more lectures that afternoon than I did the entire year.”

She abandoned her half-empty bowl and turned to face him fully. “Tell me more.”

More? He had countless stories like that, like the time he’d tried to run away after Dad had lost his shit because Ryan quit the peewee football team halfway through the season. He’d hidden out for three days before Drew showed up in his lean-to and talked him into coming back home. But he didn’t want to mar this conversation with Bri by bringing in the crappy times. As many bad memories as he had about this town, it was strange to realize he had just as many good memories. “After Drew read The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, he decided it’d be a great idea to build a raft and float down the stream.”

She choked. “And how did that go?”

“It was badass. At first. The raft held us both and seemed like it’d really go the distance.” He paused, enjoying the way she leaned forward, already smiling. “We didn’t plan on the beaver’s dam.”

Talking about this brought back all sorts of memories, of long summers spent running around barefoot, of floating the nearby river, of hours sitting around the campfire. A thought occurred to him, taking root until he couldn’t stop himself from standing and going to the cabinet. He thought he’d seen marshmallows in here, and he was right.

“What are you doing?”

He turned around, holding the marshmallows, Hershey bars, and graham crackers. “We’re going to make s’mores.” He couldn’t change her past, or go back in time to help her when she’d needed someone, but he could damn well give her some good new memories to go with the bad ones. “That is, if you’re willing to risk letting me near the fireplace.”

She smiled. “Don’t worry. I’m not taking my eyes off you.”

…

Bri watched him stoke the fire, touched in ways she hadn’t expected. He’d shared some of his memories with her, bits and pieces of a childhood that was shockingly close to hers in some ways. There were times when she’d wished she had a sister or brother to hold her hand through all of it like Ryan had so she wouldn’t have been so terribly alone. It had taken some time, but she’d finally been able to acknowledge that she wouldn’t be the woman she was today if things had been different.

If she hadn’t suffered through the foster homes and the deaths of her parents, there would be so many kids whose lives she wouldn’t have been able to touch. She loved her place in the library. It was worth everything that had come before.

That being said, she couldn’t stop the warmth flowing through her as Ryan set out the makings for s’mores. This was a gift. Something so sweet and thoughtful, she wasn’t quite sure how to thank him.

“Normally, we’d go pick our own roasting sticks and carve a sharp side to put the marshmallow on, but we’ll have to improvise.” He held up the two wire hangers he’d straightened. “So try not to judge the system too harshly on our crappy roasting tools.”

She smiled as she accepted the hanger and pushed the marshmallow onto its tip. “I’ll do my best.”

“I appreciate that.” He patted the rug next to him. “Now come closer. I promise I won’t bite.”

But what if I want you to?

She hadn’t missed the fact that he’d kept a careful distance between them all day, though she didn’t know if it was because he didn’t want to touch her or if he didn’t trust himself to. Considering their short but eventful history, she was betting on the latter. She wasn’t sure how she felt about his demonstrating so much restraint regarding sex, not when he was showing her so many other things, too. She wished she could blame her growing fondness on hormones, but when he took the sex out of the equation, what else was there?

Then again, it wasn’t like this had been weeks in the making. They had sex less than twenty-four hours ago. But they’d also spent the last six hours talking. Or not talking in some cases. Either way, they hadn’t dissolved into fights, petty or otherwise, since the spat this morning.

She sank into the spot he’d indicated next to the bear’s head. Bri grimaced. “This thing is tacky.”

“Only the best for hunting cabins.”

He pulled the bear’s head up and groaned. She followed his gaze and reached into its mouth to pull out a string of condoms. “It’s like some kind of demented Easter egg hunt.”

“Someday, somewhere, we will get revenge on those two for this.” He plucked the packets out of her hands and tossed them onto the couch.

She shifted and stared at the fire so as not to give in to the temptation to stare at him.

“Lots of people just stick their marshmallow into the flame and burn the shit out of it. Common rookie mistake. What you want to do for maximum crispy gooey goodness is roast it over the coals.” He demonstrated, holding his two inches off the coals he’d exposed on the right side of the fire. As she watched, the marshmallow turned a golden brown, helped along by rotating the hanger. “Like this.”

“Okay.” She followed his lead, a thrill of childlike excitement taking root as her marshmallow turned the same color as his. “I’m doing it.”

“You sure as hell are. I knew I had a professional s’mores creator on my hands the moment we met.”

Bri laughed. “Now you’re just being goofy.”

“This is the source of some of my favorite childhood memories. Makes me feel like a kid again.” He pulled his marshmallow out of the fire. “Okay, now you create your s’mores sandwich.”

She copied him, putting the chocolate on the graham cracker and then using the other half of the cracker to smoosh the marshmallow into place. A giggle slipped free as she held up sticky fingers. “Messy work.”

“All good things in life start or end with messes.” He motioned. “Take a bite.”

She did, and moaned. “Oh my God, this is amazing.” She took another bite, her eyes drifting closed as bliss spread through her. By the time she finished off the s’more, she was fighting to hold back a variety of sounds that could only be described as sexual. She opened her eyes to find Ryan watching her through hooded eyes. Even though she’d only seen that look a few times, her body responded to it, nipples pebbling and heat flaring through her. She cleared her throat. “Thank you. For all of this. For creating this memory with me.”

His slow grin made her stomach flip. “Trust me, honey, it was my pleasure.”

Before she could talk herself out of it, Bri leaned across the distance between them and kissed him.

Chapter Fourteen

Bri leaned into the kiss, half-shocked when he reached up to cup her chin. Though his lips tasted of the s’more they’d just eaten, that faded as he opened for her, his tongue swiping along hers. She practically threw her hanger away in favor of crawling into his lap.

“I need you, Ryan.” She kissed along his jaw, loving the way his whiskers rasped against her skin. “Please.”

He groaned and settled her knees on either side of his hips, his hands running up her thighs to squeeze her butt. “How is a man supposed to be rational with you sitting on top of him, smelling so damn good, and whispering ‘please’ in his ear?”

Was that a trick question? She ran her hands down his chest and up again. “He’s not?”

He leaned back and met her gaze. “We do this, we’re ending up in a bed tonight, Bri. No backing out, and no fighting. But first, I’m going to fuck you good and proper on this rug.”

Didn’t he know she couldn’t say no to him, even if she wanted to? And she most definitely did not want to. She wanted to wrap herself up in Ryan until she wasn’t sure where he ended and she began. Today, he’d made her feel free and strong and like her past didn’t have to be a deep, dark secret.

She wanted him with a desperation that made no sense. It didn’t matter. She’d take him up on whatever terms he set tonight, and Bri could admit to herself that the thought of ending up in a bed with him made her heart rate pick up. “That sounds wonderful.”

He grinned, as if he didn’t quite believe she’d agreed. “It does, doesn’t it?”

She peppered kisses over his lips and neck and collarbone. “Take me however you want me.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He used his grip on her hips to rock her more firmly against him.

She slid along his length, and the friction had her biting her lip to keep back a moan. Emboldened by the desire spiraling through her with each movement, she reached for the bottom of her shirt, pulled it over her head, and tossed it behind her. His eyes dropped to her breasts, enclosed in a serviceable blue bra. Someday, she’d have a sexual encounter with him and not be wearing the unsexiest underclothing imaginable. It didn’t seem to matter to Ryan, though, because he ran his hands up her sides to cup her breasts with a rapturous look on his face. “I could spend hours on your breasts alone.”

“Not tonight.” She reached behind her to undo her bra and tossed it in the same direction as the shirt.

“You’re right. Not tonight.” He ducked down and took a nipple in his mouth. The drag of his teeth over sensitive flesh sent a bolt straight to the spot between her legs and she gasped.

“More.” She clung to him as he used his tongue to flick her, alternating between quick strokes and slow licks. Just when Bri started to feel light-headed and whimpers escaped her mouth, he rolled them so he was on top. The soft rug felt luxurious against her bare skin, and she could suddenly see why this particular scene had been used again and again for seduction in fiction.

With Ryan backlit by the fire and rising over her, she could barely think. He didn’t give her a chance to, drawing off her sweats in a quick movement. “Flip over.”

She obeyed, rolling onto her stomach and then rising onto her hands and knees at his urging. The position felt strangely vulnerable, but then he was touching her, chasing away any worry she might have had. He stroked her between her legs, teasing her until she had to bite back a cry of frustration.

The sound of him ripping open a condom seemed unnaturally loud in her ears. “I know, honey, I know.”

How could he? She hadn’t said a single thing. And yet there he was, guiding her knees farther part and moving until he pressed against her entrance. He braced his hands on her hips and pushed into her, so slowly that this time she really did cry out.

Instantly, he froze. “Are you okay?”

Okay? How was she supposed to be okay? The ache in her center had only increased with every touch, and now her entire body was begging to be taken by him. All the while, he was busy torturing her with soft touches. No, she wasn’t okay. “I need—”

He tightened his grip and slammed into her, the force of the motion driving her forward until her face rested against the rug. Ryan withdrew and shoved into her again, even harder this time. “This is what you need.”

“Yes.” Bri tried to move, to take in more of him, but his grip was punishing, holding her in place, her hips up and legs spread wide, while he fucked her just like she’d begged for. Because that was the only word that described the rough animalistic way he moved in her, so intense it bordered on pain.

When he changed his angle, words erupted from her mouth, strung together as if she were speaking in tongues. “Please, Ryan, oh God, I need…I need… Please. Something. Anything. Everything.” She dug her fingers into the fur of the rug, as if that would help center her in the midst of the storm building inside her. It was too much. He had to stop, or she was going to lose everything.

As if he could sense her thoughts—and how in God’s name did he keep doing that?—he pushed down on the small of her back and did something with his hips that brought a scream to her lips. Her orgasm sucked her into the abyss, rolling over her in a giant black wave that took every ounce of energy from her body. She went limp, though she couldn’t quite make herself let go of the rug. Maybe if she held on tightly enough, the room would stop spinning. He pressed her into the rug and shuddered above her, following her over the edge.

After a long moment, Bri finally opened her eyes and frowned at the smoke curling through the room. “Did you leave corn bread in the oven again?”

His creative curse gave her the motivation to roll onto her back. The sight of fire crawling out of the fireplace did a whole lot more. She scrambled to her knees. “The cabin’s burning down!”

To his credit, Ryan didn’t hesitate. He grabbed the massive blanket from the couch and threw it on top of the fire, using his hands to pat it out and smother it. When he lifted the blanket, she saw the cause—her shirt. “Oh my God, I threw my clothes into the fire.” She’d been so concerned with getting skin to skin with him that she hadn’t stopped to consider where she was tossing those discarded clothes. “Spending so much time with you is turning me into a firebug.”

“I’m glad I have that effect on you.”

She met his gaze and promptly burst out laughing. “Oh, I bet. The sight of you makes me want to strip naked and burn down buildings.”

“I’m choosing to take it as a compliment.” He raised one massive shoulder. “That wasn’t exactly the explosive ending I’d anticipated.”

She sat there, her heart still beating too fast and body tingling from the orgasm, and he sounded so put out. It made her laugh again, which was such a novel concept. They’d come together in anger and in passion, but there’d never been laughter. Until now. Bri patted his arm. “You get an A-plus, okay?”

“I can do better.”

“No one can do better than A-plus. That’s kind of the point.”

He climbed to his feet and offered a hand. “Now that we’ve saved the cabin from burning down, let’s go take a shower.”

…

They took a long, lazy shower and managed to make it out before the hot water turned cold, and then Ryan dragged her to the kitchen for a snack. Bri wrapped the blanket more firmly around her shoulders and watched him make…something. “I still can’t quite believe you cook.”

“I’m a man of many skills.” He waggled his eyebrows, making her laugh.

She accepted a mug, sniffed it, and smiled. “Hot chocolate?”

“Another staple of my childhood. My secret recipe.”

She took a cautious sip, letting the flavors play over her tongue. “Cinnamon and…”

“A dash of chili powder.”

“I’ve never heard of such a thing.” Another drink, deeper this time. “It’s really, really good.”

“Since we’re revisiting childhood memories, anything you missed out on that you’d like to check off the list?”

The fact that he was offering in the first place, let alone having already made the effort to do just that with the s’mores earlier, made her warm in a way that had nothing to do with the cozy temperature of the cabin. Her childhood was what it was. There was no point in dwelling on it. But Ryan filtered things through a different light, and the gifts he’d given her were priceless. No one, not even Avery and Drew, had ever done anything like that for her. Yes, they knew her past, and, yes, they were completely sympathetic, but their focus was on the here and now. They’d never tried to go back and fill in some of the missing pieces.

To be fair, she’d never considered it either.

She sipped her hot chocolate. “I’ve never had a snowball fight.”

His jaw dropped and he staggered. “What? No snowball fights? My brother and Avery have dropped the ball. We’re fixing that. Right now.”

“Now?” She made a show of looking down her blanket. “But I’m naked.”

“Come on.” He took her mug out of her hands and hauled her off the stool. “Get dressed. We’re doing this. Then we can drink hot chocolate and thaw out by the fire.”

Before she had a chance to protest—not that she really tried—he had her in the bedroom and piled clothing in her hands. Bri laughed as she got dressed, buoyed by his enthusiasm. “This is ridiculous.”

“Most parts of being a kid are.” He pulled his shirt over his head. “The trick to being an adult is maintaining that childlike wonder while still managing to do soul-killing things like paying bills.”

“That’s good to know.” She tied her boots and then he took her hand and practically dragged her through the cabin and out the door. The cold slapped her, nearly making her change her mind about this being a good idea, but Ryan raised his face to the sky and laughed.

“I always forget how much I miss this place when I’m gone.”

The reminder that he was leaving in such a short time was almost enough to make her rethink the wisdom of indulging in any of this, but then he grabbed her hand again and led her out past the shed to the edge of the woods. The snow crunched under their boots, the only sound except for the whispering of the wind through the trees. When was the last time she’d done something silly like this? Bri couldn’t remember. She wasn’t sure she ever had.

“This is how you make a snowball.” Ryan crouched down, demonstrating the packing of the snow.

It wasn’t rocket science, so she hurriedly followed suit. Then, when he stood up and turned toward her, she hit him in the face with it.

“That’s cheating!” His expression made her laugh, even as she scrambled backward. He wiped snow from his eyes and shook his head like a dog. “You’re a natural. You would have been an asset in the Great Snowball Fight of ’98. Drew and I staked out the post office with the biggest pile of snowballs you’d ever seen on our sled.” He grinned. “The plan would have gone off without a hitch if Old Joe hadn’t been walking by. You know he’s a retired Marine sniper?”

“He may have mentioned it once or twice.” She packed another snowball. “You’re lucky Mayor Burns wasn’t there.” The older man used to play minor league baseball, and he still had an arm on him.

Ryan sighed. “No, we weren’t. He came out of the post office right in time to catch a face full of snow. It was all over after that.”

“Do you know the junior high boys still camp out on Main Street on snow days and try to ambush people?” She winked. “I think Old Joe watches for them, because he always seems to show up in the nick of time to save the innocent bystanders.”

A strange look came over his face. “No, I didn’t know that.”

Before she could ask what he was thinking about, his snowball hit her in the shoulder, but by that point she already had another in hand and sent it flying. Things got chaotic from there, her laughing so hard she could barely breathe, let alone focus on dodging his attacks and launching her own. As she peeked out from behind the tree she’d taken cover behind, Ryan swooped in and grabbed her around the waist, taking them both to the ground. They rolled several times before she came up on top, still giggling like a fool. “This is fun.”

“Yeah, it really is.” He smiled up at her as he adjusted her hat. “I never thought I’d say this, but I’m glad Drew and Avery got this insane plan in their heads.”

She still couldn’t quite wrap her mind around how much had changed in such a short time. Two days ago, she would have died rather than frolic around in the snow like a crazy kid with Ryan. And yet here she was, having the time of her life. With him. “I am, too.”

Then she grabbed a handful of snow and shoved it down his shirt. He cursed and grabbed for her, but she was already up and running to the back door of the cabin. Bri turned around just long enough to stick her tongue out at him, and then she was inside. As soon as the heat from the fireplace hit her, she realized just how wet her clothes were and shivered.

“Well, don’t just stand there shaking like a leaf. Get naked.”

“Get naked.” Bri stared as he stripped off his shirt. The man’s shoulders should be illegal. She gave herself a mental shake—or shiver, as it were. “And they say romance is dead.”

“Liars, all of them. Your man just gave you an orgasm and a snowball fight. If that’s not romance, I don’t know what is.”

Your man. She pulled off her shirt in an effort not to let him see how much his words affected her. Ryan might be a lot of things—many of them great—but he wasn’t hers. He couldn’t be.

Except she no longer quite believed that.

By the time she finished taking off her wet things, he was there with a blanket to wrap around her shoulders. “Now, sit. I’ll get some more hot chocolate whipped up.”

There he went, taking care of her again. She sank onto the rug they’d had sex on not too long ago and watched him move purposefully about the kitchen. All this time, she’d been operating under the assumption that something between her and Ryan couldn’t work. But what if it could?

Chapter Fifteen

Ryan built up the fire, then pulled Bri to her feet and swept her into his arms. The snowball fight had been impulsive and silly, but the sound of her gleeful giggles still echoed in his mind. This day had been the most fun he’d had in longer than he cared to remember.

Sure, he enjoyed his squad-mates and they’d had some good times together when they weren’t deployed, but he could only hang out in so many bars and drink so many beers and interact with so many of the same kind of woman, all looking for exactly the same thing. He’d stopped truly enjoying it years ago, though he’d never been able to put his finger on what it was that he actually did want.

Now he knew.

He wanted this. He wanted a partner to act like a fool with, to laugh with, to share new experiences with, to fuck until they both forgot their names. If he were going to be truly honest, he wanted it with this woman.

He laid her on the bed and followed her down, propping himself up next to her. Bri reached up and ran a single finger over his biceps, almost as if she weren’t sure of her welcome. “What are you thinking about?”

He responded by cupping her hip and tucking her against him. “Lots of things.”

“Tell me.”

“I was thinking that I’ve been chasing all the wrong things this entire time.”

She turned those wide blue eyes on him. “What do you mean?”

“I joined the PJs because I got to see some of the world I’d been so desperate for and serve a higher purpose—and to get away from the boy I was, growing up in Wellingford. It was everything I thought I wanted.” He took a deep breath. “But it hasn’t been enough for a long time. Something was always missing.” Something he’d just gotten a glimpse of and didn’t want to let go.

She ran a hand up his arm and back down again. “I don’t want to be presumptuous, but I think I might understand what you mean. You were content, but you haven’t been happy.”

He considered. “Yeah, that’s a pretty fair description.”

“I’m familiar with the feeling.” Then she cuddled a little closer, making his heart give another one of those almost-painful lurches. “So, what are you going to do about it?”

That was the question, wasn’t it? Ryan smoothed his fingers through her hair, marveling at how thick and soft it was. This was the moment when things could change, either for the better or to make their remaining time in this cabin hell. But there was only one way to find out, and his brother hadn’t raised a coward. “I’d like a chance to date you, Bri. Exclusively,” he added, because the thought of her with anyone else made him want to beat the prospective man bloody.

Her breathing picked up, but she didn’t slap him and run from the bedroom, so he figured she wasn’t entirely against the idea. Then again, he could never be sure when it came to her. She was just as likely to be considering how much time it would take for her to grab a chair and bean him again.

When the silence stretched out, Ryan wondered if he’d misread the situation. He rubbed his thumb over a strand of her hair. “No pressure. Things haven’t exactly been smooth between us from the start, so I get it if you—”

She lifted her head and kissed him, silencing whatever the hell he’d been about to say. Once his thoughts were completely frazzled, she leaned back and smiled at him. “I’d like that.”

Had he heard her right? “You would?”

“Yes.” Her smile took on a bashful tone. “After all, there are so many childhood memories we haven’t covered yet.”

“A lifetime’s worth.” Shit, had he just said that aloud? He kissed her, hoping it didn’t freak her out that he was already thinking about a possible future. “How about we take it one day at a time?”

…

One day at a time. She could do one day at a time. Especially if they were anything like today. He’d breached boundary after boundary she’d created to keep her heart safe, all the while coaxing her into experiences she never would have dreamed of. Yes, they’d been silly and cute, but priceless to her.

And he seemed to know it.

Could she date him? It wasn’t the exclusiveness she was worried about…not really. He was leaving, flying off back to his base in a week. The thought of standing at the airport and being left behind made her sick to her stomach. But she could see how the week went, couldn’t she? Seven days was plenty of time to see if things would continue like they had today, or if they would go back to fighting. “One day at a time.” She swallowed hard. “That’s doable.”

The grin on Ryan’s face warmed her right through, pushing away her worries. He rolled onto his back, pulling her with him until she straddled his hips. “This mean you’re going to be my girlfriend?”

Girlfriend. The label shouldn’t make her both happy and terrified at the same time, but it did. Bri attempted a smile. “Don’t you think that’s moving a bit fast?”

“Not really.” He shrugged, the move making his skin slide against hers. “I don’t have a problem going after what I want. And what I want is you.”

But for how long? No. She would not let her issues and fears take over and ruin this. Just because she had a history and some intense abandonment issues didn’t mean Ryan was like the rest. He wasn’t. She bit her lip, playing her fingers over the muscles of his chest. “I want you, too.”

“Then what’s holding you back?”

So many things, none of them completely relevant. She took a deep breath and smiled. “Nothing that matters. I’d like to be your girlfriend, Ryan Flannery.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.” If anything, his grin got wider. “You are so goddamn beautiful.”

“Stop.” She pushed his shoulder. “You don’t have to say things like that. Not when you already have me where you want me.”

Where she wanted to be.

His hand hovered less than an inch from her body. Keeping that distance between them, he traced over her shoulder and breasts, down her stomach, and back up again before taking her hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “Don’t you know by now?”

“Know what?”

“I don’t do anything unless I want to. And I sure as fuck wouldn’t spout pretty words to get you into bed. I mean them. You, Bri Nave, are beautiful in ways that have nothing to do with the physical.” His gaze traveled the same path his hand just had. “Though you’re gorgeous physically, too.” He leaned up and kissed her, and she reveled in the feeling of his body touching hers. When his hands came to rest on the back of her thighs, she rocked against him, a whimper already building in her throat.

“Ryan—”

“I know.” His laugh was a little harsh. “I’ll stop talking now before I freak you out.”

That wasn’t it. It wasn’t that at all. She cupped his face, her touch making him meet her eyes. “I think you’re beautiful, too. I’ve never had someone do anything like you did today.” She traced his lips with her thumb, the memory of them on her skin making her shiver. “I was wrong about you when we first met, and I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well, I was kind of an ass.” He feathered his fingers across her nipples. “How about I spend tonight making it up to you?”

She kissed him. “You’re off to a brilliant start.”

He reached between them to cup her. “Christ, woman.” First one finger, and then two pressed into her, a slow exploration so at odds with what happened between them on the rug that it made her breath catch in her throat. “Like that?”

“You know I do.” He had yet to touch her in a way that didn’t make her eyes threaten to roll back in her head. She leaned back, giving him better access. “I like everything you do to me.”

Before that thought could take hold and truly freak her out, Ryan jerked his chin. “I think I saw a few condoms hidden in the nightstand.”

She gave a breathless laugh as she reached into the drawer and came up with two. “A nightstand. How mundane.”

“I don’t know. Maybe they were onto something.” He ripped open the packet and rolled on the condom. “Now get back here.”

…

Ryan was going to take this slow if it fucking killed him. Every time he got his hands on Bri, he lost his damn mind, but this time was different. She’d agreed to be his girlfriend. If that wasn’t a step in the right direction, he didn’t know what was. He adjusted his angle and pulled her down, sheathing himself inch by agonizing inch. “I love how you throw back your shoulders when I piss you off.”

“Ryan—”

He could tell the compliments made her uncomfortable, but he didn’t know how else to make her understand that, even knowing her such a short time, she meant more to him than just a beautiful woman he wanted to be naked with. She had a core of strength—and stubbornness—he saw in his fellow PJs. But beyond that strength was a heart that had been beaten and bruised, but still managed to reach out to the children who were lost like she’d been.

“I love that you work so hard for the kids’ programs in your library.” He pressed an openmouthed kiss to her chest, directly above said rapidly beating heart. “You’re strong and smart and compassionate, and any man would be lucky to have you in his life.”

He thrust up, pushing a little deeper. “I care about you, Bri.”

She lifted herself and shifted back down, her breath gasping out. “I care about you, too, Ryan.”

His heart pounded painfully, making him feel as if he were some fucked-up Grinch and it was growing three sizes. Which didn’t make a damn bit of sense, so he shoved it from his mind, and focused solely on making Bri’s body feel as good as she had his soul.

He let her ride him, let her control how fast and hard things went. Her harsh breathing was a perfect match to his own, but she needed that little bit more. Ryan pressed three fingers to her clit, letting her motions stroke her against him and drive her wild. The feeling of her clenching around him, combined with the wild look in her eyes, nearly sent him over the edge then and there, but he held on through sheer force of will. “You know what else I love about you?”

“Oh my God…I…” She grabbed the headboard above him and rolled her hips desperately.

“I love the way you scream my name when you come.”

Her body went tight, her head falling forward, a breathless shriek on her lips. “Ryan.”

The feeling of her coming around his cock was too much for his control. He grabbed her hips and drove into her, needing to follow her over the edge as acutely as she’d needed to get there. “Bri.”

She collapsed on his chest while he relearned how to breathe. Once their bodies quieted, Bri shifted to the side and slipped her arms around him, tucking her leg between his. She pressed a kiss to his throat. “Thank you. For everything you said. For meaning it.”

She sounded like she still didn’t quite believe him. That was okay. Given enough time, she would.

Chapter Sixteen

“Ryan, wake up.”

He opened his eyes, and winced at the bright sunlight shining through the window. “What time is it?” They hadn’t exactly had a restful night between making love and talking. He’d been looking forward to sleeping in.

But Bri was sitting on the edge of the bed, practically vibrating with energy. “Your SUV is back.”

“What?”

“They must have brought it in the night.”

He sat up and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Cowards.” End result aside, stranding them in a cabin was some bullshit, and he fully intended on letting both his brother and Avery have a piece of his mind about it.

“Maybe they didn’t want to interrupt.”

“More like they didn’t want to deal with us being pissed at them. Why are you dressed?”

“What?” She glanced down at herself as if just noticing that she wore the same clothes she’d shown up with. Bri twisted her skirt between her fingers. “Well, I thought it might be nice to get back to civilization.”

Back to Wellingford. That’s what she meant. He started to reach for her, but stopped when he realized it for the ploy it was. The truth of the matter was he wanted to stay here, in this safe place, and let things keep developing between them. Here was the only place they’d managed to have decent conversations that weren’t biting comments linked to the past he’d never escape as long as he was in Wellingford.

But if that was all the confidence he had in Bri, he had no business pursuing this in the first place. So Ryan forced a smile. “I wouldn’t mind some diner food.”

Her eyebrows rose. “Diner food.”

“Yep. The Diner food, specifically.” He took her hand. “Think of it as a date.”

“Because our last one ended so well.”

Obviously she shared some of the same fears he did. “That was before I introduced you to the world of s’mores. Everything has changed now.”

She laughed. “A valid point. Okay, yes. Take me on a breakfast date.”

After doing a quick walk-through of the cabin, they headed outside to where his SUV had been parked in nearly the same spot he’d left it three days ago. He could almost believe this had all been a dream.

Until he looked at the smiling woman at his side. The woman who, three days ago, had barely been able to stand in his presence without them sniping at each other. It was amazing how quickly things could change.

She stopped at the passenger door. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Just marveling at how goddamn lucky I am.”

As expected, she blushed. “You’re laying it on kind of thick with the compliments. I already said I’d be your girlfriend.”

“See last comment.” He slid into the driver’s seat and cranked the engine over. As they cut through the back roads into town, she reached over and laced her fingers through his.

He was struck by how…nice…this was.

It was almost enough to banish his dread of going to the Diner. On a Sunday morning, there was bound to be a bunch of old-timers who’d shown up after the early service down at the church, all willing to share their old battle stories—and his family’s stories. It was exactly the kind of situation he’d avoided before now.

But Bri loved this town. And he was rapidly falling for her. That meant he needed to at least try—no matter how much he hated it. So he pulled into the parking lot and braced himself. Except Bri didn’t move.

“We don’t have to do this, you know.”

She was just waiting for him to back out. To leave. All he had to do was say the word, and she’d let him take her back to her place and maybe they’d fall into bed and spend the next seven days tangled up in each other. But he’d have blown his one chance to prove to her that he was really serious about this.

“I want to.” In that moment, it was almost the truth.

From the look she sent him, she knew exactly how hard this was. “Okay.”

As expected, the Diner was nearly full, mostly of retired folk who used breakfast as an excuse to gossip about whatever drama had gone down over the weekend. The faded and cracked red vinyl seats were exactly the same as when he’d been in high school. Even the old black-and-white tiled floor still sported the stain in the grout from when Avery clocked Matt Jennings in the face and broke his nose after he dumped her big sister. Nothing had changed.

They took the only open booth and slid in. Immediately, the waitress, Dorothy, scuttled over. “Hey there, you two. I’m surprised to see you here. I would have thought you’d be at the library today, Miss Nave.”

It was painfully obvious she was scooping for a story, but Bri just smiled. “You’re pulling my leg, Dorothy. You know the library isn’t open on Sundays.”

“Oh, right. Silly me.” She looked from Bri to Ryan and back again, clearly fighting back the questions she must have been dying to ask. “What will you have?”

They ordered and watched her slink away, as if she thought if she moved slowly enough, they would call her back and confess what they’d been up to for the last few days. Ryan shook his head. “This town.”

“It’s just a little harmless curiosity.”

He was saved from responding by Old Joe walking through the door. The only thing Joe liked better than drinking on his boat was telling stories, and Ryan had all of three seconds to hope his presence would go unnoticed before the old man zeroed in on them. “Is that Billy Flannery’s youngest I see?”

He sighed. “You know it is, Joe. You’re not half as blind as you pretend to be.”

Joe chortled and shuffled over to slide into the bench next to Bri. “Good Lord. Miss Bri? Tell me you aren’t consorting with this here fella.”

She smiled. “Hello, Joe.”

“What’s a nice girl like you doing spending time with a hooligan like Flannery here?”

A hooligan. He was nearly thirty, for God’s sake. He’d stopped being a hooligan when he graduated from high school. And that wasn’t even getting into the fact that everyone still referred to him as “Billy Flannery’s youngest” despite the fact that his father had died nearly seven years ago.

For her part, Bri didn’t seem all that bothered by it. “Ryan is buying me breakfast.”

“Back in my day, when a man buys a woman breakfast, it means something serious.” He shot a surprisingly serious look at her. “You should know this boy right here burned down the high school on the very day he graduated.”

Here they went. It was always the same old story. He didn’t even know why he was surprised, but this was taking it to a whole new level to interrupt his date with Bri to tell the same old tired story.

Bri’s eyes danced. “I have heard that. On several occasions.”

“Well, of course you have. Everyone and their dog in this gossipy little town thinks they know something.” Apparently the irony of that statement was lost on Old Joe. “But I’ll tell you something else.”

Jesus Christ. Would it never end? What was next? The stink bomb incident? Or maybe the time he and Drew jumped their car over the school garden and were suspended for a week?

“There was a reason that fire started,” Joe continued. “He was there in the first place because those little Jennings shits thought it would be funny to color the fur of a cat they found with melted crayons. Our Ryan found out, and he wasn’t going to sit back and let some bullies hurt a defenseless animal. He got that kitten out of the fire, see if he didn’t.”

Bri laughed and patted Joe’s arm. “Sounds like a hero.”

Ryan could only stare. He’d never told anyone that story, except Drew. How the hell did Joe know? Did everyone know?

“That boy is, that’s for damn sure. With a pop like that worthless drunk piece of shit—excuse my French, Miss Bri—he could have grown up wrong. Him and his brother both. But they didn’t follow in Billy’s footsteps, God rest his ill-tempered soul. They grew up right. Do you know he has a whole set of awards for missions he’s done over there in the desert? He’s saved more lives than we’ll probably ever know. Wellingford is proud to call him our own.”

Old Joe had always been the worst of the bunch, constantly ribbing him about burning shit down every time he was within hearing distance. To have the same man sitting here, telling Bri how proud the whole damn town was of what he’d done overseas…

They knew about the cat. He still couldn’t wrap his mind around it.

Bri reached across the table and took his hand, anchoring him while the world spun, settling into a new shape he never would have anticipated. “You should be proud. He’s a good man.”

“The best.” Joe laughed and stood, slapping Ryan’s shoulder as he did. “But it looks like that fox Dorothy is bringing your food, so I’ll leave you to it. It’s good seeing you, Flannery. You don’t come home often enough.”

Ryan looked at Bri. Maybe that was about to change.

After Dorothy dropped off their plates and disappeared back into the kitchen, Bri lifted her fork. “So you saved a cat, huh? It sounds like your hero complex has been around just as long as your history of setting things on fire.” She laughed and shook her head. “I’m sorry. I know it’s a sore spot, but those jokes never get old.”

He braced himself for the instant anger that usually came when someone made reference to burning shit down. Instead, he said, “I don’t mind.” And, to his surprise, he didn’t. “After we finish breakfast, I have something specific in mind that I’d like to set on fire.”

“Let me guess—it has something to do with my panties?”

They finished their meal in relative silence, though it was a comfortable one. After Ryan paid the tab, he took her hand and led the way back to the Suburban. “Your place?”

“Please. I want a shower and some new clothes.” She shot him a look from under her bangs. “And there’s the added bonus of getting you naked and at my mercy.”

“You’re insatiable.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. “I like it.”

They could barely keep their hands off each other as he drove to her house, and the only thing that kept him from starting something then and there was the memory of hitting the damn stoplight and taking out the mailbox. The last thing either of them needed was a repeat of that nightmare.

They had just made it out of the car when a woman poked her head out of the house next door. “Hey there!”

Bri waved. “Hey, Marcy. How are you this morning?”

“Doing much better. I noticed that you weren’t picking up your papers, so I grabbed them. Didn’t want the silly things turning soggy—then they’d be no good to anyone.” She hustled out her door and walked to the little fence separating their front yards. “Hi, Ryan. I heard you’re back for another week, and I was wondering if you’d come down to the grade school and talk to my second graders about being a soldier?”

She wanted him to speak to her class? Ryan rocked back on his heels, reaching for words and not finding any. He caught Bri’s gaze and the excitement there hit him in the chest. He cleared his throat and looked back at Marcy. “I think I could make that happen.”

The woman beamed at him. “Thank you so much. I know my kids will love to hear from a local soldier.”

Bri glanced at him and met her halfway to take the newspapers. “Thanks, Marcy.”

“It was no problem at all. See you at Story Time on Wednesday, Bri. And Ryan, let me know what day works best for you.” With one last wave, she retreated back to her door, where a toddler stood with his face pressed against the glass.

Ryan followed Bri inside, his mind still reeling from the invite. Hell, Marcy treated him like a normal person—a person she thought would be a good influence on her schoolkids. It was like he’d fallen down a rabbit hole and was told left was actually right.

She stopped just inside the door and stepped into his arms. “Are you okay?”

“She just asked me to come by and talk at the grade school without joking about me not burning it down.”

“Why are you so surprised?” She cupped his face, her palms soft against his cheeks. “I’ll tell you a secret. It was your reputation as a hero—not a firebug—that got me to agree to that first date.”

Before, Wellingford had seemed claustrophobic and cloying. Everywhere he looked, he was surrounded by people who’d never let him grow up. Now? Now, he was starting to see some of what Bri loved so much about it. They knew him, but no one was forcing him into the role he’d long since grown out of. Not anymore. Maybe he’d only seen what he wanted to see—the gibes without the caring backing it.

It was all too easy to imagine settling here. Raising a family here. This was a town where people barely locked their doors. Where neighbors took care of one another. Where he could create a true home.

His thoughts stuttered to a halt as Bri walked past the living room filled with mismatching floral couches, pulling her shirt over her head. She paused in the doorway on the other side of the room and grinned. “What are you waiting for? These panties aren’t going to light themselves.”

Chapter Seventeen

Bri woke to the sound of whispered voices. She blinked into the darkness, noting the tension in Ryan’s body. He pressed a finger to her mouth, cautioning her to silence, but she had no intention of saying something and drawing a serial killer’s attention to them.

It may be time for her to stop reading all those suspense novels.

There was a thump and a muffled curse. “Shut up.”

“You shut up. How am I supposed to see anything when it’s pitch fucking black?”

“You’re the one who couldn’t wait until a decent hour to come barreling in here.”

Bri touched Ryan’s hand. “It’s Drew and Avery.”

“I know,” he muttered. “But I’m still debating between pretending I don’t know, and whooping their asses.”

Though she wasn’t entirely opposed to that idea, those two wouldn’t be out here at… She frowned at the clock. Yeah, they definitely wouldn’t be out here at five in the morning for anything other than an emergency. Which meant yelling at them was going to have to wait. She cleared her throat. “We can hear you guys.”

Avery cursed again. “That’s definitely negative stealth points.” They threw open the door and flipped on the lights. She gave a crow of victory. “Oh my God, Drew! I told you this would work. Didn’t I tell you this would work?”

“I’m pretty sure this was my damn idea to start with.”

Bri rubbed her eyes, trying to adjust to the light blinding her. She jumped when Ryan threw a blanket around her shoulders. “Out.”

“Oh please. We’ve seen more skin than that swimming with Bri.”

Ryan’s hands spasmed on her shoulders at Avery’s words. “Get the fuck out, both of you. Now.”

“Jesus. Fine.” Drew grabbed Avery’s elbow and dragged her out of the room. “Hurry up and get dressed. We have bad news.”

Bad news. That didn’t sound promising. Bri barely waited for the door to shut before she threw off the blanket and hurriedly pulled on the first clothes she got her hands on. By the time she’d buttoned her jeans, Ryan was dressed as well. She looked at him, unable to stifle a little sigh of happiness at how well his shirt fit. Would she ever get used to those shoulders? She hoped not.

“You better stop ogling me like that, or I’m going to say to hell with those two and lock us in here for another hour. Or three.”

She winced at the thought of Drew and Avery sitting out in her living room while they made love. “That’s not the best idea.”

He kissed her. “Let’s go see what the troublemakers want.”

She didn’t want to. She wanted to slam the bedroom door and lock themselves in here for the last six days Ryan was here until the Twosome went away and took whatever news they had with them. But that wasn’t reality.

Sure enough, Drew and Avery sat next to each other on her couch, their expressions sober. Ryan took her hand, but it didn’t make her feel any better about it. “I got a call from Major Sanders.”

She felt Ryan’s tension even before he spoke. “What happened?”

“He wasn’t in a confiding mood. He said to get your ass back to base, ASAP. Something about emergency protocol.”

Ryan went eerily still. “Fuck.”

“Yeah, that was kind of my response. He’s not happy that he had to call me because your phone was turned off.”

Ryan let go of her hand to shove his through his hair. “I can’t imagine why my phone would be turned off.”

“I’d like to point out the fact that we were right all along.” Drew held up his hands when his brother growled. “I packed your shit and booked your flight. We have to hurry or you’re going to miss it.”

Bri swayed, trying to process the information. She didn’t have a week. She didn’t even have a day. He was leaving right now. She tried to quell the storm of emotions inside her, threatening to break out. How could Ryan make her promises when his first priority would always be the Air Force? It didn’t matter what he wanted to pursue with her—they would call and he would go. Maybe he’d feel bad about it, but he would leave.

Just like everyone else did.

She wrapped her arms around herself and took another step away from him. He caught the move, because his eyebrows dropped and his mouth fell into an unforgiving line. She’d seen that expression before, back when they’d still been at each other’s throats. “Go wait in the car,” he said to Drew and Avery. “I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Ryan, you’re going to be late for your flight if you dick around too long—no offense, Bri.”

“Get out.”

Avery grabbed Drew’s arm and jerked him toward the door. “Fine. We’ll go. But he’ll wait in the car.”

Ryan barely waited for the door to shut behind them when he rounded on Bri. “Whatever you’re thinking, stop it.”

Instead of addressing that, she asked, “What’s emergency protocol?”

A muscle in his jaw ticked. “It could be any number of things.”

She’d spent enough time with him to know when he was holding something back. “But you know what this is, don’t you?”

He sighed. “I don’t know anything for sure.” When she just stared, he continued, “But they wouldn’t be keeping things so locked down without a reason. I’m probably being sent to replace a PJ overseas.”

It didn’t take much to connect the dots. “Someone got hurt, didn’t they?” Someone doing the job he did. Someone he was being sent over there to replace.

“Maybe. Probably.” He shook his head. “I won’t know for sure until I’m back on base.”

“Oh.” She took a step back, mentally flailing for something to hang on to before she flew apart. End things with him. End things now. “Well, I guess this thing between us has reached its expiration date.” She spoke quickly, because she had to get this out while she still could, before she lost her nerve. Or started crying. “I mean, it was a fun little fantasy until reality intruded. It would have never worked anyway.”

“Don’t do this. I know the timing is shitty, but it’s not the end of the world. I’ll call you as soon as I know what’s going on, and we’ll figure this out.”

Despite the way he’d said all the right things up to this point, he really didn’t understand. “Ryan, you’re leaving.”

“It’s not forever. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“For how long? A week? Two? Maybe even a whole month? Then you’ll turn around and leave again. You will always leave.” She hugged herself tighter. “And right now, you’re going off into certain danger.”

“I’m a PJ.”

“Which is exactly my point. The guy you’re replacing might be dead.” Her eyes burned, threatening to betray her. She cleared her throat, determined to remain in control—at least until she could make it to the safety of being alone to break down. “I lost the two most important people to me when my parents died. I can’t go through that kind of pain again. You can’t expect me to sit back and wait while you risk your life.”

He ran his hands through his hair, looking like he wanted to rip it out. “What am I supposed to say to that?”

There was nothing to say. Against all reason, she’d half hoped he’d reassure her that he wouldn’t always leave, that he would come through this tour okay—and the next, and the next. But he couldn’t do that without lying, and she’d rather have a hard truth today than a pretty lie that hurt even worse in the long run. “Let’s face it—we’re barely more than strangers, Ryan. The sex was great, but that’s all we have between us.”

The hurt on his face almost made her question if she was right, but then the all-too-familiar glare took its place. “So that’s all this was to you? Sex.”

Despite her best efforts, a single tear slipped free. “It was nice while it lasted.”

He shook his head. “You’re pulling away because you’re scared and protecting yourself.”

It was so incredibly tempting to agree, if only to give herself the illusion it wasn’t over. He’d reassure her and hold her and maybe she’d feel better for a little while. But it would only hurt to prolong this torture by pretending there was a way to make it work. “No. This is how I feel. I never—” Her throat threatened to close, but she forced the words past it. “I never cared about you like that.”

He stared at her and for one hopeful, terrifying moment, she thought he might tell her she was being crazy and he wasn’t leaving forever and they could make it work. But then he shook his head and the moment passed. “You know what? You’re a goddamn liar. You know good and well this was a hell of a lot more than sex to you, no matter how much you try to convince yourself otherwise. But that’s okay. Go ahead and keep lying to yourself. I hope it keeps you warm at night.”

…

Ryan didn’t say anything as he and Drew drove out of town. He was so pissed and hurt and twisted up inside, he didn’t trust himself to speak without spewing that poison.

There was one subject he needed to deal with before he got on a plane. “You’ve been telling tales.” The only way Old Joe—or any of them—would know about the cat, let alone what he’d been up to for the last ten years, would be because his brother told them.

“What are you talking about?”

“Bri and I were at the Diner yesterday morning, and ran into Joe. It’s amazing what that old man seems to know about me.” When Drew stayed stubbornly silent, he continued, “And right after that, Marcy Travis mentioned that she’d love for me—a genuine hero—to come talk to her class at the grade school.”

“I’m not surprised. You’re a fucking inspiration.”

Even all these years later, his brother was proud of him, and he’d let Drew down by avoiding Wellingford. Ryan shifted, looking out the window, not sure how to approach this subject. “I’m sorry I haven’t been home much. I’m going to work on that.” He paused. “Thank you. For all of it. I know I never said that before.”

“You’re welcome.”

They drove in silence for the next several minutes. Finally, just when Ryan started to think the tension in the cab might actually choke them both, Drew slapped the steering wheel. “Okay, enough with the sentimental shit. What the fuck happened with Bri?”

What happened? What happened was that Bri shot him down more thoroughly than anyone else ever had. It felt like a vicious repeat of their first night together—she patted him on the head, told him she had a nice time, and slammed the door on any future they could have built together. All because she was scared of what might happen when he left. That was her MO, though. She got scared or hurt and lashed out, keeping everyone at a distance. He’d thought they were past that shit, but she seemed more than willing to let this whole damn thing go down the river.

“Ryan, spit it out before you choke on it.”

What could it hurt to talk about it? It wasn’t like it’d make anything worse. “She’s running scared.”

“Bri’s like that when people get too close.”

Exactly. While he’d been so sure he was getting closer to her heart and having her actually open up to him, she was just reinforcing her barriers and locking him out. “She’s being a goddamn coward. Instead of talking through it, she’s hiding.”

“Sounds like someone else I know.”

Ryan glanced over. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Maybe not the hiding shit, but running and hiding are two sides of the same coin.” Drew looked out the windshield, but there was an odd tone in his voice. “You bolted out of here after graduation like your ass—not the high school—was on fire.”

Of all the people in the world, he’d expected Drew to understand. He thought he had considering what they’d just talked about. “I couldn’t deal with it anymore. Everywhere I looked, all I could see was the past. I thought I was going to die under the weight of it.” Or start drinking daily, which was a scarier option considering their father.

“And now?”

“Things are different now. I’ve grown up—grown past it.” Yeah, it had only happened in the last few days, but he was seeing this town in a different light. “What the hell does this have to do with anything?”

Drew shifted his grip on the steering wheel and took the turn onto I-99. “What it has to do with is the fact that you and Bri aren’t that different. She’s afraid of being abandoned the same way you’re afraid of always being thought of as Drunk Billy’s pyro kid.”

“Those things are nothing alike.” He’d wanted people to see him as he was now instead of the boy he used to be. Bri didn’t want people to see her at all.

“Jesus Christ, Ryan, I know they aren’t the same thing. My point is that maybe instead of condemning Bri you should try to be a little more understanding.”

“It’s impossible to be understanding when she’s shutting me out.”

Drew snorted. “Then you don’t deserve her.”

“You’re the shittiest advice-giver I’ve ever heard.” He didn’t deserve her? Not fucking likely. They’d created something special while they were together in that cabin, and he’d worked his ass off to convince her to open up enough to give him a chance.

“What do you want me to say? I saw your face when we walked in that room. I’ve never seen you lose your mind over a woman—any woman. So either you’re going to prove her right by making it a temporary thing, or you’re going to fight for her. Is she worth fighting for?”

It wasn’t even a question. He’d told her the truth before. Ryan had never met a stronger, more intelligent, more beautiful woman. Being with her made him feel as if a piece he’d never noticed was missing had fallen into place, as if he were finally whole.

But how was he supposed to fight for her when she was so busy fighting him? He rubbed his chest. There was only one right answer to that. He had to convince her he wasn’t like the string of people in her life who’d left. He wouldn’t walk away, not while he still had the breath to argue. “You’re an ass—even if you might be right.”

“I’m your older brother. It goes with the territory.” Drew finally looked at him. “What are you going to do?”

“First, I need to get back to base and find out what’s going on. Once I have that settled, I’ll figure something out.” Because his brother was right. He’d never lost his mind over a woman before, and he’d be damned before he let her walk away without a fight.

Chapter Eighteen

Bri spent the next twenty-four hours in a fugue. She had no illusions about what she was doing, but she couldn’t bring herself to stop. Nothing interested her—not her books, not her library, not even the kids she made an effort to smile at despite how terrible she felt. All she wanted to do was curl in bed and sleep until her chest stopped hurting.

She picked up a book from the shelving cart and set it back down without opening it. God, what was happening to her? She couldn’t possibly have had her heart broken by a man she barely knew.

But no matter how much she tried to convince herself otherwise, she couldn’t lie to herself. She knew Ryan. She felt for the kid he used to be—the child who had sought refuge from his horrible father in the middle of books, just like she had. The teenager who’d accidentally set fire to his school while saving a kitten. She felt for the man he’d become, too, but even more than that, she felt for the common thread between them she couldn’t ignore.

It didn’t matter. No matter which way things played out between them, it’d never work in the long run. It couldn’t.

So why was she having such a difficult time convincing herself she shouldn’t track him down?

The phone in her hand rang, startling a scream out of her. Bri pressed her hand to her chest and stared at the caller ID. Avery. Again. Her best friend had been calling ever since Drew took Ryan to the airport. She hadn’t been ready to talk then, and she sure as heck wasn’t ready now. With a sigh, she pressed the ignore button and set the phone aside.

“It’s rude to ignore your best friend’s calls.”

Bri screamed for the second time. “What the hell, Avery? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

She hopped onto the counter next to Bri and swung her long legs out. “That depends. How long are you planning on avoiding me? Because I’d hate to have to take drastic measures. I mean, I’m in a library right now. That’s pretty drastic.”

“I haven’t decided if I’m angry at you for the cabin thing. I need time.”

Avery rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. If you don’t know if you’re mad, you’re not.”

“That’s not how real life works.” In reality she’d let a man who could very well have been her Prince Charming walk away without a fight. The very thought, no matter how absurd, made her want to cry.

“Will it make it any better to know that Drew and I spent three hours picking through the damn place, making sure we found all the condoms we’d stashed? Because that was a giant pain in the ass. Also, informative. You guys used quite a few of them.”

Bri wanted to shake her friend, mostly so she didn’t have to consider the implications. Had they counted the missing condoms? “Are you even listening to yourself? You stranded me in the middle of nowhere with a strange man for three days.”

“Now you’re just being dramatic. It’s not like we picked up a hitchhiker and threw you two together. It’s Ryan. And you two were pretty damn cozy when you were crashing his Suburban into a stoplight.”

She realized it didn’t matter what she said—Avery wouldn’t listen. Bri vowed right then and there she’d get some sort of revenge on the Twosome, no matter how long it took.

“Speaking of Ryan, what the hell happened? You two went from being cuddled up in a very naked way to icy silence that managed to make even me uncomfortable.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Ever.

“Bullshit. Obviously something isn’t right and, if I know you—and I do—then it’s going to eat you up until you figure it out.”

She kind of hated Avery for knowing her so well. Bri crossed her arms over her chest and forced herself to meet her best friend’s gaze. “What’s your point?”

“My point is, hashing it out with me will help.” She motioned. “So, hash it out.”

As much as she wanted to be left alone to nurse her wounds, Avery had a point. “Would you like something to drink?”

“Don’t suppose you have beer stashed somewhere around here?” She laughed when Bri sent her a look. “Didn’t think so. Tea would be great.”

She led the way into the little back room she’d converted into a break room when she took over as head librarian. Mrs. Cleaver had used it to stash her in-progress knitting projects, but Bri bought a comfy little chair and a table for her automatic teapot. Going through the motions of filling the teapot and setting out mugs calmed her nerves. By the time she turned around, she was as ready as she’d ever be to have this conversation. She took a deep breath. “He left.”

Sympathy bloomed in Avery’s dark eyes. “Sweetie, it’s not forever.”

“Knowing that doesn’t make it any easier. He’s running off to take over for a guy who might have died.” Who did die for all she knew. Her brain wanted to point out that this had been coming since the moment she met him, but she’d somehow convinced herself it would work out—right up until the moment it came time for him to say good-bye. “Even if we try to make something work, he’ll always leave. Maybe even for good.”

“Well, you can’t do anything about the last bit, but if you’re not willing to follow him to the ends of the earth, maybe you should give him a reason to stick around. He’s been looking for one ever since he left.”

“What are you talking about? He’s not going to settle here.” In Wellingford, Bri had found a real home, and she wasn’t sure she could bear the thought of leaving. Even for Ryan. The fact that she’d considered it in the first place was a token of how deep her feelings for him went.

“He had a rough time of it growing up with his asshat of a father. He and Drew had to fend for themselves for the most part, so they got into more than their fair share of trouble. The whole burning-down-the-high-school mess only capped things off.” Avery shrugged. “But the long and short of it is that Ryan needed time to find his own identity and some peace, but when he’s ready to put down roots again, this is where he’ll come.”

Hope blossomed, made all the more terrible for how potent it was. Bri ruthlessly crushed it. “You’re wrong.”

“I’m not.” She kicked out her heels again. “Maybe he just needs the right reason to make him ready.”

Her friend was saying all the things she desperately wanted to hear, but Bri couldn’t bring herself to believe it. “He’s avoided this place for ten years. That isn’t something you just set aside. Plus, he loves being a pararescuer. I could never ask him to choose between me and a career he loves.”

“Then don’t.”

“You are not helping.”

“Well, I guess that depends on what kind of help you’re after. Do you want the truth, or for someone to pat you on the ass and tell you that you’re right and Ryan’s a big, bad asshole? I love the man, but I can go either way if it’s what you need.”

Bri gripped her mug tighter. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

“What’s the problem? That I gave you the option, or the fact that there is an option?”

Anger broke through the calm she’d fought so hard to maintain ever since Ryan left. Her hand shook so much, hot tea splashed over her fingers. “I think you should leave.”

“I think that means we’re choosing option one, so here goes. You’re not weak, Bri—you never were—but you’re scared shitless and that’s going to make you miss the chance of a lifetime. I saw the way Ryan looked at you. He’s head-over-heels in love with you, and unless I miss my guess, you’re well on your way there, too.”

No. Absolutely not. “Get out.”

“I’m sorry to have to be the one to say it, but I love you too much to sit back and let you hide from happiness.” Avery’s voice never wavered as she stood and walked slowly toward the door leading into the main room of the library. “Maybe you need to sit down and think about the stakes. Because I’d commit bodily harm to have a chance at what you’re throwing away—a life with a loving partner. If you’re not willing to fight for your happiness, why should anyone else?”

“That’s not fair! There are other things to consider.”

“Maybe you’re right.” She paused at the door. “But I wouldn’t consider them for too long. Ryan’s hopping on a flight and shipping out to destination unknown tomorrow.”

“What? He’s deploying?” Bri ran after her and threw open the main door, but her friend was already walking down the sidewalk. Panicking, she raced back into the break room and scrambled for her phone. She dialed Drew’s number from memory and nearly sobbed with relief when he answered.

“Flannery.”

“When is Ryan flying overseas?”

For once, he didn’t make a smart-ass comment. “Tomorrow morning. He thinks he’ll be gone a few months, but it’s hard to tell since everything is all hush-hush.”

An unknown number of months in enemy territory where another pararescuer had already been hurt—or worse. What if something happened to him and she never said the words pushing so desperately at her lips? Bri was already grabbing her keys and shoving her feet into her boots when she said, “What airport is he flying out of? Or is he going directly from Moody Air Force Base?”

“Actually, no. He’s flying commercial to Germany departing out of Nashville. From there, I have no idea.”

Nashville. She glanced at the clock as she headed for the main doors. There was probably a flight that would get her to Atlanta tonight. If she rented a car, she could drive to Nashville and be there by morning. “Hold on a second.”

“Sure, I’ve got all day.”

Ignoring his sarcasm, she hurried to the nearest computer and brought up a search of flights leaving Williamsport. Sure enough, there was one heading to Atlanta in three hours. “I need a ride to the airport.”

…

Ryan dialed again, cursing when the call went straight to voice mail.

This is Brianne Nave. Please leave a message with your name and number and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.

He’d already called her three times, so it was entirely possible she was ignoring him on purpose. Fuck. “Bri, it’s Ryan again. I’m leaving and… Shit, I don’t even know what to say. I never should have walked away from you with things like they were, and I’m sorry. I would have called before now, but things have been insane with us going wheels up. The truth is, I care about you more than I know how to say. I know that’s going to freak you out and I’m sorry for that, too, but it needs to be said. You brought something into my life I didn’t even know I was missing, and I’ll be damned before I let you go without a fight. I’m… I’m going to call you when I get to Frankfurt in roughly twenty hours. If you don’t answer or your phone’s shut off, then I’ll take a hint, but I really hope we have a chance…to talk.”

The phone beeped, cutting him off before he could embarrass himself anymore.

“Dude, put your phone away before you call that poor chick for the fourth time in three hours. You’re already bordering on stalker territory as it is.”

He turned with a sigh to Jackson. The PJ’s blond hair shone in the stark light of the airport as they strode through the terminal toward Concourse C. His eyes, however, were sympathetic. “There will be plenty of time to get it right, Flannery. She’d be a damn fool not to see what a catch you are.”

“Aw, Jacks, are you sweet on me?” The joking he usually found such joy in fell flat against the rock settling in his stomach. What if Bri finally answered and said she didn’t want anything to do with him? How the fuck was he supposed to go on with his life knowing what he was missing?

“As if you have to do is ask.” Jacks grinned. “So this girl stole your heart? She’s a fast worker.”

Thinking back to their first date, to the kiss that flamed out of control, he smiled. “You have no idea.”

“Yeah? Maybe someday I’ll meet a woman who blows me away like that.”

“If you’re lucky.” Or cursed. He wasn’t sure at this point.

“Uh, Flannery.” Jacks eyes went wide. “I don’t suppose she’s about yea tall”—he held up his hand at chest height—“with a penchant for skirts and sexy secretary glasses?”

He followed his friend’s gaze and stopped cold. Bri stood talking to a gate agent, her hands moving wildly, though he was too far away to hear her words. The gate agent shook his head, and she wilted for a second before throwing back her shoulders and marching to the next gate. “What the hell is she doing?”

“Well, genius, it seems like she’s looking for someone.” Jacks pushed him forward a few steps. “I can’t imagine who.”

Ryan hitched his backpack higher and starting moving again, picking up his pace until he was damn near running. Bri had already finished with the second agent, and she was heading across the open space to the next cluster of gates. “Bri.” She didn’t pause, didn’t seem to hear him. “Bri!”

She turned a slow circle, as if she wasn’t quite sure what she was looking for. Then she caught sight of him and sprinted in his direction. He caught her halfway, yanking her into his arms, as if by holding her he could actually wrap his mind around the fact that she was here.

Her breath came in harsh pants. “I didn’t think I was going to find you before you left.”

“I’ve been calling. I left you a message.”

Bri clung to him. “My phone’s dead. I flew into Atlanta last night and was in such a hurry that I forgot my charger and then when I was driving there wasn’t anywhere open late enough to stop and buy one and—”

He kissed her, trying to communicate everything he’d left in that last message. When he finally came up for air, she blinked. “Wow.”

“I’m sorry, honey. I shouldn’t have said that shit to you before I left.”

She stepped back, though she kept a hold of his hands. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for. I’m the one who let my fear get the better of me. And I am afraid, Ryan. I’m terrified I won’t be able to handle your leaving me repeatedly. I’m worried that something will happen to you while you’re gone, and I’ll have a complete meltdown and backslide to the helpless kid I was.”

He couldn’t imagine asking her to go through that. Not for him. “Bri—”

“Please let me finish.” She smiled, though it wavered a little around the edges. “I’m terrified, but I’ve spent my entire life without meeting someone I connect with like I connect with you. I can’t let you fly off without trying to make it work. Really trying.” She bit her lip. “If you’ll let me.”

“Oh, he’ll let you,” his friend chimed in behind them.

“Shut up, Jacks.” He dragged her into his arms again and claimed her mouth. She went soft against him, her arms going around his neck. Kissing her felt like the most natural thing in the world.

It felt like coming home.

Cheers broke his concentration, reminding him of just where he was. Ryan pulled back with a sheepish grin. “Forgot we had an audience.”

Bri blushed a pretty shade of crimson. “Me, too.”

He cupped her face, tipping it up so she met his gaze. “How about we both try?”

She was already nodding before he finished the sentence. “I’ll wait for you. As long as it takes.”

She’d wait for him. The one thing he never would have dreamed of asking, and she was willing to do it. “We’ll make this work. I promise. And I’d like to get a place in Wellingford.”

“Wellingford?” She frowned. “But you hate it there.”

“I never hated it, exactly.” He brushed her bangs out of the way. “Besides, I recently met this really wonderful woman who’s in love with that little town, and spending time with her has helped me start to see the place through new eyes.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. So if you’re willing to work with me for a bit, we could have the best of both worlds.” He took a deep breath. “I think I’m falling in love with you, Brianne Nave.”

She kissed him again, ignoring the cheers around them, only stepping back when they were both breathing hard. “Well, I am falling in love with you, Ryan Flannery. Of course I’ll work with you. Now and always.”

It figured that she couldn’t help one-upping him, even in this. That was okay. If things went according to his plan, Ryan would have an entire lifetime to turn the tables on her. He grinned at the possibilities.

A lifetime of making new memories with Bri? He couldn’t wait.

Epilogue

Bri stood in the airport, wondering if this ever got easier. She wasn’t sure it should. Three months without Ryan this time, which was a whole lot better than the six months of the first tour. She’d missed him so desperately, and missed him all the more once she started throwing up and realized…

She clutched the sign to her front and bit her lip. People streamed from the gate exit, branching off to hug loved ones or head toward baggage claim, the majority of them dressed in the Air Force-Army uniform she’d become so familiar with in the last year. Any second now, any minute he’d walk through the opening.

Then she could share her news.

And there Ryan was, his gaze landing on her unerringly. He broke into a smile, and then he was running, crossing the distance between them in great, bounding strides and swinging her into his arms. “I’m sorry the flight was late.”

She inhaled the spicy scent of him and buried her face in his neck. “I said I’d wait forever, remember?”

“That doesn’t mean you have to like it.”

She didn’t like it, didn’t like the distance his deployments caused. But she’d surprised herself, because she was okay. It wasn’t fun, but she handled it without any of the soul-crushing despair she expected. It helped that the people of Wellingford had descended while he was gone, making sure she never felt truly alone, even when she missed him so desperately she couldn’t see straight. The minnow Ryan gave her before he left—a partner for Mr. Smith—helped, too.

Bri kissed him, loving that he was here in her arms again.

“I’m crushing your poster.”

“I don’t care.”

But when she leaned up to kiss him again, he only allowed it to last a few seconds before he laughed and took a step back. “I care. Show me.”

She held her breath as he read, frowned, and seemed to read it again. “We’ll have our own little fire-starter in six months?” Then his blue eyes went wide and his gaze dropped to her stomach. “A baby?”

“I know we weren’t really planning on—”

He was there, sweeping her into his arms again and spinning her around. She laughed and hugged him. “I take it you’re not upset?”

“Upset? Why the hell would I be upset? This is the best news I’ve gotten. Ever.” He stopped spinning again and looked down at her. “There’s only one thing that could make this day better.”

Her heart felt like it was trying to beat its way out of her chest. A year together and he still affected her like he had the night of their first date—though she didn’t want to bean him with an encyclopedia nearly as often these days. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” He stepped back and dropped down to one knee. “Be my wife.” Then he pulled a square box out of his fatigues’ pocket. “I was going to wait to propose until we made it to dinner, but this is better.”

She pressed her hands to her mouth. This was really happening. When she’d found out she was pregnant, she’d barely dared hope that he’d be happy, let alone this. “Yes. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.”

Ryan raised his eyebrows. “Are you going to let me put it on your finger?”

Giddy laughter sprang free from her mouth. “I love you so much.”

“That’s good, because I’m pretty sure I’ve been in love with you since you pelted me in the face with that snowball.” He slipped the ring onto her finger. “This was my grandmother’s ring. Drew found it in some old boxes and gave it to me before this last deployment.”

It was gorgeous, an emerald-cut diamond nestled in a cluster of actual emeralds. Bri couldn’t keep the stupid smile off her face. “It’s beautiful.”

“Not as beautiful as the woman wearing it.” He pushed to his feet and kissed her again.

“I don’t want to put a damper on this situation, but shouldn’t Drew be the one getting the ring since he’s the older brother?”

“My brother, Wellingford’s most eligible bachelor?” Ryan snorted. “We’ll all die of old age before he settles down.”

“Maybe he just needs the right woman.”

“I’m not too worried about it. I’ve found my right woman.” He pressed his hand to her stomach, which had barely started to round. “A baby. God, honey, you have no idea how happy that makes me—how happy you make me. I love you.”

“I love you too, Ryan.” She had a man who loved her—and whom she loved more than she thought possible—and now they were taking the first step toward creating the family neither one of them had experienced. Bri leaned against him. “I didn’t know it was possible to be this happy.”

“Honey, we’re just getting started.”

Content

In Bed with Mr. Wrong
Out of Uniform - 1
by
Katee Robert

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Epilogue