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eBooks are not transferable. They cannot be sold, shared or given away as it is an infringement on the copyright of this work. This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental. Samhain Publishing, Ltd. 577 Mulberry Street, Suite 1520 Macon GA 31201 Servicing Rafferty Copyright © 2008 by Janie Mason ISBN: 1-60504-077-0 Edited by Eve Joyce Cover by Angela Waters All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: July 2008 www.samhainpublishing.com
Servicing Rafferty Janie Mason
Dedication
To David, for your love and endless support. And to Rachel and Douglas, for being great kids. Thanks for sharing the computer with Mom. I love you all.
Servicing Rafferty
Chapter One
Heidi Callihan imagined the satisfying thud the hood would make, should it accidentally come crashing down on Barbara Murillo’s dyed skull. For Barbara’s sake, it was a darned good thing Heidi’s boss, Joe “Rafe” Rafferty, was hunched under the Cadillac’s massive hood with her; otherwise Heidi would be sorely tempted to step over from the adjacent service bay and make the vision a reality. She wiped her grease-blackened hands with a shop rag, looking down at her stubby, darkened nails. Then, shaking off self-doubt, Heidi pretended to search for a ninesixteenths-inch socket in one of the garage’s rolling tool cabinets. In her peripheral vision, however, she caught intermittent glimpses of the perfectly manicured widow Murillo, poured in her deep V-necked tee, leaning over the fender toward Rafe. I hope she gets engine grease all over those double-Ds. With a muffled harrumph, Heidi picked up the socket and made herself turn back to her work. That woman’s had more men than Hershey’s has kisses. Why can’t she just leave this one alone? “Everything checks out okay,” Heidi heard Rafe say as he backed out from underneath the Cadillac’s hood. He straightened to his full six-foot-three-inch height, his muscular frame almost allowing Heidi to forget the seductress who loomed much too close.
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“Well, it was making this funny sound when it idled,” Barbara cooed with enough artificial sweetness to fill a saccharine factory. Heidi rolled her eyes and blew a puff of air up at her bangs. She couldn’t believe Rafe was falling for such a lame act. “I thought I’d better have you take a look at it,” Barbara continued. “After all, I wouldn’t want Tony Junior and me to be helplessly stranded somewhere.” Helpless? Fat chance! Heidi glanced through the glass at Tony Junior seated in the tiny waiting room of Rafferty’s Auto Repair. He was dressed like a miniature mercenaryfor-hire, scowling at his Gameboy as if it were the enemy. Heidi had heard rumors of truancy, drinking and shoplifting, and the kid was only eleven years old. He was troubled, that was for darned sure. But helpless? Not by any stretch of the imagination. And as for his mother, well, Barbara made Catwoman look like Mother Theresa. “I really don’t think you need to worry, Barbara,” Rafe said with a natural smile that would make any woman weak in the knees. “I didn’t hear anything unusual when I pulled it in the garage.” Heidi wanted to tune out what went on in the next bay, but ignoring Rafe was as impossible as turning down a hot fudge sundae. She slid her gaze back in time to see him closing the hood and wiping it clean of his handprints. “Well,” Barbara began, narrowing the distance between herself and Rafe. She ran her talons up his well-muscled forearm and then slid them under the short sleeve of his shirt, massaging his firm triceps. “About tonight—” Rafe cut her off, glancing in Heidi’s direction. “Why don’t we step into my office,” he said, pushing the office door open and hurrying Barbara along with a hand at the small of her back. Heidi focused on the engine and ground her teeth behind closed lips, imagining the bolt she was tightening to be a tourniquet around Barbara’s neck. She managed not to turn back their way until after she heard the soft click of the door. Like the waiting room, the small office was encased by glass panels on the upper half of the walls. She hoped the fact that anyone in the garage could see in was enough of a deterrent to keep Barbara from jumping Rafe’s bones.
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Heidi spied him leaning back on the edge of his desk, arms folded across his broad chest. He appeared to be listening to Barbara with great interest. Heidi refocused her energies enough to give the bolt a final murderous twist, imagining the offers the “Black Widow” was proposing. Since Barbara’s husband had passed away three years earlier, the bereaved widow had developed quite a reputation around Greenville. Rumor had it Rafe was one of the few bachelors who hadn’t let Barbara give him her own special version of a lube job. Heidi sneaked another peek toward the office. Rafe was smiling. Damn. Then he spoke, nodded and stood to walk toward the door. “So, I’ll see you around seven o’clock?” Barbara said as she passed within inches of Heidi. Heidi bit back a smart-ass comment, unsure whether she should be insulted or relieved at how Barbara completely ignored her existence. But after she watched Barbara drag her son to the Cadillac and pull away, what Heidi had overheard finally hit with the force of a sledgehammer. Rafe was going out with the Black Widow. At seven. And if that woman lived up to her reputation, she’d concoct a way to get her legs locked around his waist by seven-oh-five. “No way!” Heidi shouted, hurling her wrench at the concrete floor. Rafe, who had disappeared into the office, yanked the door open a split second later, phone in hand. “You okay? What happened?” he asked, concern apparent in his warm gray eyes. “It slipped,” Heidi said, masking frustration. I’ve made a mistake, waiting for him to come to his senses and see me as a woman. “Uh, Rafe, I’m almost done here and there was something really important I meant to do. Would you mind if I cut out a little early?” “Sure, no problem,” he said. “Before I forget, I called in the order.” “Thanks,” he said, still eyeing her with suspicion. “Are you sure everything’s okay?” “Peachy,” she answered, set on edge by both his fatherly tone and the urgency of the situation.
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“I’ll see you Monday morning then.” He paused for another moment, studying her, then gave her a single wave and returned to his call. Her mind racing, Heidi whizzed through the final adjustments to the Buick’s serpentine belt. “What’s the problem?” she scolded herself under her breath. “I’ve never held back from anything I wanted before. Why is it I’ve been too chicken to pursue Rafe?” Heidi pushed the tool cabinet back against the wall and washed up, a wild plan coming together in her mind. It was riddled with major flaws—like risking both her friendship with Rafe and her job—but at the moment, all that mattered was keeping the Black Widow away from him. “If he’d just stop treating me like one of his younger sisters, he’d realize we’re perfect for each other,” she mumbled, mental pistons firing at the speed of a Ferrari’s. “Then again, it’s time you stopped acting like a little sister.” Shucking her coveralls in the washroom, Heidi stared her reflection in the tiny mirror and gripped the sides of the sink until she was white-knuckled. “Okay, so Barbara’s the one forcing me to shift to high gear,” Heidi admitted with a new determination, “but if anyone is going to wrap her thighs around Rafe, it’s going to be me.”
Rafe watched Heidi straighten up and disappear into the washroom. He hoped Barbara hadn’t upset her. “Hell-o? Joe, are you still there?” A distant voice called from the receiver in his hand. “Oh, uh, sorry Mom,” Rafe said, lifting the phone back to his ear. “What is it you needed me to do?” “Joe, you called me. I don’t need a thing, dear.” Had he really dialed his mother in Florida? He didn’t remember doing it. As usual, thoughts of Heidi had him so screwed up he was running on autopilot. And not all that
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efficiently. Rafe swiveled his desk chair to face away from the interior of the garage so he could focus on what his mother was saying. “Are you all right? You seem awfully distracted. Is the garage in trouble?” “No, no, everything’s fine.” Why on earth did I call her? “Wasn’t there something you wanted me to do?” he asked. Between his mother and two sisters, there’d always been at least a half a dozen tasks waiting for his attention. “Now what in the world could you do for me four states away?” His mother chuckled. “Besides, that’s the beauty of my new apartment lifestyle. I just have to call the manager, and he takes care of any issues that arise.” “Maybe it was Joanie,” Rafe said, puzzled. “I just spoke with your sister this morning. She didn’t mention anything.” His mother was probably right. Since Joanie had married her high school sweetheart a month earlier, she’d barely had time to call her big brother. Could it be his other sister, Trisha, who had asked for a favor? “You know what I think?” his mother continued. “I think you’re still adjusting to your newfound freedom.” “Freedom?” he repeated. “What do you mean?” “Joe, you’ve had three women to watch over since your father died eighteen years ago. Now both of your sisters are married, and I’ve retired and moved down here with your Aunt Millie.” “You know I never considered my family a burden to be freed from.” He’d admit it had been tough, becoming the man of the house at fourteen, but no harder than his mother becoming a widow just days before her thirty-fifth birthday. “I know that, Joe. But all the time you’ve spent taking care of us was that much time you couldn’t devote to your own personal life.” “Ahh, now I get it. You’re talking about me finding myself a wife.” Rafe turned his chair, caught himself looking at the washroom door, and swiveled right back around to look at the opposite wall.
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“Well, don’t make it sound as if having a wife would be a death sentence.” Rafe could almost hear the smile in her voice. “Not a death sentence—just a ball and chain for the rest of my life,” he teased. “It’s not like—oh dear, I didn’t realize how late it was. I have to go. Millie had a root canal this afternoon and I need to go pick her up.” “Okay, give her my best,” Rafe said. “I will. I’ll speak with you soon. Oh, and Joe?” “Yes?” “Give Heidi a kiss for me.” Rafe hung up the phone and spun his chair around, grabbing a stack of papers that was stuffed into a metal clipboard. Was it possible his mother knew there was nothing he’d rather do more than kiss Heidi? No, he thought, her comment was innocent. No way would his mother hint at, let alone approve of, him making a play for Heidi. She thought of Heidi as one of her own daughters. But the affection Rafe had been feeling towards his petite employee lately was far from brotherly. Fate had dealt him a cruel hand. For the woman of his dreams to be nine years his junior. It might as well be nine decades. Rafe was determined to keep his feelings to himself. Heidi would enjoy her twenties the way he’d never had time to: dating and having fun with all her younger friends. And he would run his business and go on the occasional date with someone closer to his age. The image of just such a woman invaded his thoughts. Setting down the clipboard, he pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting a headache. Damn Barbara anyway, for flaunting the fact he was going to be seeing her later. It wasn’t like it was a date. He’d just agreed to help her pick out football equipment for Tony Junior. Rafe had once suggested Barbara get the boy involved in some extracurricular activities. That way he’d be too busy, or at least too tired, to go looking for trouble. Rafe had no plans to play big brother, and he sure as hell didn’t want to take on the role of surrogate father. He just wanted to help get the kid the right kind of gear. Nothing too involved.
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But Barbara sure as hell hadn’t made it sound that way. She’d made their getting together for a shopping expedition sound like something much more intimate. No frickin’ way was he interested in the “Black Widow”, as she was commonly referred to by much of Greenville’s male population. But Rafe’s gut instinct told him the whole incident might have upset Heidi. She’d had a rough time of it the past few years; add to that the schoolgirl crush he suspected she had on him. He didn’t need Barbara Murillo stirring up bad feelings. Trying to refocus, Rafe pulled the invoices for today’s work and began doublechecking numbers. He managed a full twenty seconds before his mind drifted back to the night, several months earlier, when he’d found Heidi crying. The night that had changed everything.
“Heidi, is that you?” Rafe asked, seeing a small figure curled up on the old leather sofa in the office. It was evening and the garage was dark, except for the glow of the green-globed desk lamp. Leaving the overhead light off, he crossed the room, knowing his only employee put a lot of stock in her tough-guy image. Squatting in front of the sofa put Rafe about face level with Heidi. She dashed her tears on the sleeve of her oversized shirt. “What’s wrong?” “Harmon’s dead,” she whispered. Rafe wasn’t surprised by the news. Her father—whom he’d never once heard Heidi refer to as Dad—had spent each and every day since he’d gone on disability pickling his liver. He’d been a lousy father before then, and in Rafe’s opinion, not much of a man ever since. Rafe cupped the rounded tip of Heidi’s steel-toed boot in his palm. “I’m so sorry,” he told her, knowing the staunch loyalty she’d felt toward Harmon. “What can I do? You know I’ll help you any way I can.” Reaching up with his other hand to sweep her bangs to the side, he noticed more moisture pooling in her eyes. Rafe shifted closer to cup her delicate face in his hands, thumbing away her tears.
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He supposed it was the rare combination of her vulnerability and that touch which had opened his eyes, like some kind of cloud-parting revelation. Those warm tears—the only ones he’d ever seen her shed—had burned a fire throughout his body. Before that moment, he’d never looked at Heidi as a woman. At least not as a sexy, desirable woman. She was his ace mechanic, his little buddy. And at twenty-three compared to his thirty-two, she wasn’t much more than a kid. Unfortunately, the hard-on that had accompanied his sudden revelation made all Skipper and Gilligan comparisons fly right out the window. Going, going, gone; and he’d been fighting an almost overpowering attraction to her ever since.
Rafe was pulled back to the present by Heidi exiting the washroom. She was dressed now in a short-sleeved white T-shirt, green fatigues that rode low on her narrow hips, and well-worn work boots. Heidi always dressed with comfort in mind, and Rafe had to smile at her take-me-as-I-am attitude. He knew she’d argued with Harmon about it on more than one occasion. Problem was, Rafe would have liked nothing better than to take her, as her attitude dared. Here and now. As Heidi reached up to hang her coverall on a hook by the door, her shirt rode up, exposing a delectable expanse of bare midriff. Fatigues or burlap sack, she would be sexy in anything. Or nothing. He fantasized about kissing that exposed skin and then going on, making sure to taste every inch of her. Except for her small, work-roughened hands, he imagined the rest of her body would be soft as a brand new chamois. Rafe readjusted the constricting crotch of his jeans as Heidi rushed out. Through the window he could see her tear out of the lot in her Honda like she was heading into the final lap of the Indy 500. Whatever it was she had to do, he thought, it must be pretty damned important.
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Servicing Rafferty
Chapter Two
Rafe checked his watch. Six forty-five. Rescuing Heidi’s kitten, Attila, from behind a piece of furniture shouldn’t take long. In truth, he’d been blown away when Heidi had called. Asking for help wasn’t her usual M.O., but he didn’t mind driving out to her place to lend a hand. After all, his job jar was empty for the first time in eighteen years. Rafe turned down the gravel drive leading to Heidi’s house—or rather, the shack outside town she’d shared with Harmon. As his pickup crunched to a halt in the gravel out front, he noticed the dilapidated screen door had been replaced with a high-end storm door. He didn’t remember her mentioning it. Hell, he would have been glad to install it for her. But that would have meant asking for help, and the Heidi he knew would normally swallow her tongue before doing that. Rafe climbed the concrete steps carefully. They were as crumbly as Joanie’s biscuits and dangerous as hell. Add a layer of ice and… He decided to ask if she’d like him to replace them. He could demolish what was left of them with a sledge, build the form and pour new concrete in one weekend. Heidi could even help. Yeah, it’d be great. They could start tomorrow. A smile crept across his face as he rapped on the door. “Heidi, it’s me,” he said, pulling open the storm door. He heard scrambling inside the house. “Come on in,” Heidi called, her voice strained.
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Rafe opened the door and saw her, red-faced and attempting, without success, to lift one end of the sofa. The room was somehow different, but Heidi’s immediate situation took precedence over how the furniture had been rearranged. “What the hell—” he began, rushing across the living room. “I told you to wait for me. That kitten’s probably under there laughing at you. He would’ve come out when he was good and ready anyway.” Rafe took hold of Heidi’s narrow shoulders and moved her aside. “I’m telling you, Attila’s stuck. I put a dish of his food down, and he just kept meowing over and over again, like he’s jammed in and can’t get out.” Heidi wasn’t meeting his eyes as she spoke. She must really be upset, he thought, worrying that her kitten is trapped and helpless. “Well, he’s quiet enough now,” Rafe said. “Hurry up, Rafe. You lift, and I’ll crawl under and get him,” Heidi insisted, her hands windmilling in small circles to hurry him. Rafe bent, hooked his hands under the edge of the sofa and lifted. He hadn’t anticipated the floral monstrosity would weigh so much. “What’s the frame of this thing made of anyway? Solid lead?” “Ha, ha,” Heidi said, kneeling beside him. “It’s a queen sleeper sofa. I just got it. Nice, huh?” “Well, if you paid by the pound, you definitely got your money’s worth,” he said, straightening to his full height, a bead of sweat already forming at his temple. Rafe turned his head and looked down. Heidi’s cute little tush was sticking out from under the sofa, wiggling as she maneuvered underneath. Whoa, bad idea, he thought, shifting his gaze from her rounded backside to an ugly painting of galloping horses on the wall. Thanks to his late afternoon Heidi fantasies, he’d just finished one cool shower. There wasn’t time to go home for another before he had to meet Tony Junior and Barbara. “Have you got him?” he asked, wanting to get the hell out of Heidi’s house before he started thinking about how he’d like to break in the mattress of this new sleeper sofa.
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Too late. Images of Heidi, naked and willing on cool cotton sheets, made the blood drain from all four appendages and surge to his groin. No, don’t go there. He searched the recesses of his brain for a non-sex-related topic of conversation. “Good thing my health insurance is paid up. I think I’ve hurt something,” he teased. “Hope you can cover for me at the garage while I recover.” “Oh, quit your whining,” Heidi said. It was one of her pat responses to his smart remarks, but it didn’t have its usual joking tone, as if her mind was on something else. “Got it,” she said, just as Rafe heard a strange clicking sound and felt something cold encircling his right wrist. “Heidi, what the—” he began, twisting to look down at the silver cuff she’d affixed to his wrist. Heidi scooted out from under the sofa and backed away as Rafe lowered the monster sofa to the floor. He couldn’t straighten because she’d cuffed him to the sofa bed frame, so he squatted on the balls of his feet. “Rafe, I know you’re probably going to get a little irritated about this,” Heidi said, pressing her palms downward. Her voice was placating, but he also heard her everpresent ring of determination. “But you’ll look back at this someday and thank me.” “Thank you for handcuffing me to your sofa? How do you figure?” Rafe was starting getting a crick in his neck from looking up at her. “I’m talking about your date with the Black Widow. I can’t let you go through with it.” Then his cloud of confusion dissipated, and Rafe began to understand Heidi’s misconceived notion. So she was jealous of Barbara. His male pride swelled, but his protective nature needed to lead his words and actions. He thought of how sensitive his sisters had been about their past crushes. “You don’t understand, Heidi. I’m not dating Barbara Murillo. Now if you’ll just unlock this thing, I’ll explain.” Rafe remained calm and hid his irritation at her ridiculous stunt.
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“Sorry, Rafe.” “‘Sorry, Rafe,’ what?” he said, his composure slipping a notch. “Sorry I locked you up? I don’t know what in the world came over me to pull a stunt like this?” “No,” she said, eyeing him as if she was trying to predict what he would do next. “Sorry, but I can’t unlock you just yet.” Staying out of his reach, she made a wide arc and slipped past him into the kitchen. Rafe was so stupefied he didn’t know what else to say. She’d handcuffed him to her iron maiden sofa and walked away. This was far and away more bizarre than any situation he’d ever encountered with his sisters. Seconds later Heidi returned with two glasses of wine, setting one on the old steamer chest that served as her coffee table. “Here you go,” she said. “Heidi,” he began, but she held up her index finger. “I almost forgot. Just a sec.” She crossed the room and stepped into the home’s miniscule hallway, opening the door to her bedroom. A tiny clump of black and white fur zipped through the doorway, circled her feet three times and then tore across the room toward Rafe. Attila scrambled up one denim-clad shin. Rafe rested his free hand on the floor, lowering himself to a seated position so he wouldn’t fall and squash the infamous kitten under his ass. “Hey, buddy. Nice to meet you, too.” The little guy was pretty cute. He almost made Rafe forget about the unusual circumstances he found himself in. Almost. Rafe picked Attila up by the scruff of his neck and looked the little fellow in the eye. “Did you know you’re living with a lunatic?” Attila hung there in his grip, surrendering to the giant who held him captive. Realizing the kitten probably wanted his freedom as much as he did, Rafe lowered Attila to the floor and watched him scramble into the kitchen. “I’m perfectly sane,” Heidi said. “As a matter of fact, I was starting to wonder about you, Rafe. I mean, Barbara Murillo? The woman must have a revolving door on her bedroom.” If he hadn’t been handcuffed to the frame of Heidi’s sofa, Rafe might have laughed.
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“I’m not going out with Barbara,” he said, a bit disappointed that Heidi thought he had such poor taste in women. “But I heard her say—” Heidi paused, as if replaying Barbara’s statements in her head. “Now wait. This afternoon I heard her say she’d see you at seven. The garage closes at six, and we both know there isn’t a thing wrong with her car, so it isn’t about that.” Rafe could see confusion churning in Heidi’s hazel eyes. Part of him, the big brother part of him, wanted to laugh at her wild assumption he was interested in the Black Widow—even though Barbara had encouraged the misunderstanding—and at her even wilder scheme of holding him prisoner. The other part of him, the part that thought about Heidi in very un-brotherly ways, was both pissed off and turned on at the same time. She did have him handcuffed to a bed, after all. But he wouldn’t do anything about it, no matter how appealing the idea was of pulling off her clothes and sliding… Shit. Do not go there. Frustration and irritation already had his blood close to boiling. Besides, if he wanted to play hide-the-salami with Barbara Murillo, it was his own damned business. Not that he wanted to—he’d never been attracted to women who flaunted their assets—but why the hell should he have to explain his personal plans? Heidi wasn’t his keeper. But he knew he had to remain cool if he wanted to convince her to unlock the cuffs. He reached for the wineglass and took a long drink, wanting nothing better than to drag Heidi over his knee and spank her for this stunt. The ensuing twitch of his cock made him choke down the liquid. He set the glass back down and swiped his hand down his face. The spanking image came back to him in full Technicolor. Rafe drew the pad of his thumb over his fingertips, the metal cuff clinking against the sofabed frame. He envisioned rubbing his hand over her smooth, round cheeks and then slipping his fingers further down into her warm, wet folds. Shit. So much for staying cool.
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“Listen to me, Heidi,” he said, knowing he was losing his grip. He had to get out of there, and to do that he had to convince her there was nothing going on between him and Barbara. “I was going to see Barbara tonight. But it wasn’t a date. I was going to help her buy football gear for Tony Junior. The kid needs some activities that’ll keep him out of trouble, and I suggested football.” Rafe studied Heidi’s face. She looked as if someone had handed her a banana to pound a nail. Then her expression relaxed, and she took a sip of wine. “Were you going to meet her at the store or pick her up?” Not sure why that detail mattered, he answered, “I was picking them up. Why?” “Them?” Heidi said, shaking her head. “Rafe, do you really think Barbara was going to blow an opportunity like having you alone at her house?” Now it was his turn to be confused. “Say what?” “Rafe, I’d bet a month’s pay Tony Junior has been shipped off to a friend’s and is nowhere near Mommy Dearest tonight. Barbara tricks you into showing up at her house, offers some lame excuse for his being gone and then convinces you to come in for a drink. Next thing you know, wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am.” Rafe inhaled through his nose, doing everything he could not to lose his temper. She must not have much confidence in him, to think he’d succumb to such an obvious ploy. What in the hell had he done to make her think he was such a gullible wimp? For Heidi to have such a low opinion of him hurt more than he wanted to admit. “Heidi, give me the key to the handcuffs,” he said through clenched teeth. He glared at her with a searing look, part genuine anger and part theatrics. “No,” she said, glaring right back. Damn it, that look had always gotten his younger sisters’ quick cooperation. “Heidi, if you value your job, you’ll give me the key right now.” That ought to do it. He knew she loved working at the garage. She’d have the keys out in half a second. “No,” she said again, acting stubborn as a spoiled toddler. Before he could form a response, she continued, “Don’t blow this out of proportion, Rafe. I’m just keeping you
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here long enough to make Barbara think you’ve stood her up. She’ll be good and mad. It won’t keep her away from you forever, but hopefully it will be long enough.” Heidi got up from her straight-back chair and headed toward the kitchen, looking perfectly calm. She must have recognized his threat for the empty one it was. He was unable to prevent his eyes from following the sway of her slender hips, and she was almost gone before her comment registered. “Long enough for what?” he asked. “For pizza.”
Heidi rested her forehead against the refrigerator door. She hoped her exit hadn’t looked like the mad dash it was. Rafe had threatened to fire her. He’d never done that before. But then again, he’d never been so angry with her before. He had used that forceful tone with pushy salesmen, and she’d once seen him use a similar look to make an out-of-line customer back down, but she’d never been on the receiving end of one. It had taken everything in her not to follow his orders and unlock the handcuffs. She looked enviously at Attila, sleeping in the open windowsill, and then glanced over at the plastic songbird clock hanging above the stove. Seven-ten. Rafe was late for his date. So far, so good. Heidi figured Barbara was already attempting to reach him. Since Rafe had dropped his cell phone yesterday on the concrete floor of the garage and broken it, she knew no one could get him at that number. By seven-thirty, the witch would probably put a raincoat over her black leather bustier and drive over to his place. But he wouldn’t be there. According to Heidi’s calculations, the Black Widow would be spitting venom by eight o’clock. “Heidi!” Rafe yelled. “If you don’t unlock these things, I’m going to drag this ugly couch right out your front door.” Rafe sounded mad enough to try, but she knew he couldn’t do it. The two ape-like deliverymen it had taken to carry the thing in had been forced to take the front door off its hinges. Heidi heard dragging sounds muffled by the living room carpet, followed by various thuds and curses. It would take a few minutes before he gave up, and she’d just as
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soon stay out of sight while Rafe made his attempts. His only other recourse would be her telephone, so before he arrived she’d hidden the handset in the linen closet. Taking a deep breath and opening the oven door, Heidi removed Rafe’s favorite carryout pizza, which had been warming on low. He might consider himself a prisoner, but she was determined to give or do anything to ensure his comfort, short of handing over the key to the cuffs. She just needed to keep her nerve and follow the plan. Heidi carried a stack of napkins, two plates and the pizza into the living room. Rafe, still affixed to her floral sleeper sofa, was seated against the wall near the front door. Upon hearing her enter, he raised his head away from the wall and opened his eyes. “The door has to come off the hinges for it to fit, doesn’t it?” he asked, sounding resigned. “Afraid so.” She set the pizza box on the floor within his reach. “I’m already late, Heidi,” he said, pointing to the cuffed wrist where he wore his watch. “Don’t you think it’s time to unlock me?” “Not yet.” No need to explain her theory about Barbara and the leather underwear. “Have some pizza,” she said, changing the subject. “It’s Romano’s, Italian sausage and extra cheese.” Rafe surprised her by ignoring the bribe. He closed his eyes and rested his head back against the wall. “Come on, Rafe. You might not have any choice about being here, but there’s no need to go on a hunger strike.” He remained quiet, and the silence filled her with dread. “I rented Bladerunner for us to watch,” she tried to cajole. “You know how much you love that movie.” No response. Damn. Romano’s and Harrison Ford got her nothing? Uh-oh. Heidi checked her watch, nervous at the rate things were progressing. She’d counted on the pizza and DVD buying her more time. Heidi figured the fat content and special effects would at least soften him up a little, but Rafe wasn’t falling for it. Time to move on to Plan B. She took
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a long drink from her wineglass, summoning both her courage and a much needed poker face. “Well, since you’re not hungry,” she said, setting down her glass, “and you have nothing better to do, you might as well help me out with something.” Still no response. No problem, Heidi tried to reassure herself. She’d get his attention. She moved his wineglass from the steamer trunk to the floor where he could reach it, all the while careful to position herself out of his reach. “You just sit there and relax. When you’re done pouting, help yourself to pizza.” Heidi lifted her glass, finished her wine in one gulp and then crossed to her bedroom door. Going inside, she left the door open. Rafe couldn’t see her from where he sat along the front wall. “I need some help deciding which outfit to wear to Gigi’s brother’s wedding,” she called. In truth, she’d planned on wearing the same blue dress she always wore to such occasions, but Plan B involved borrowing a few outfits from her free-spirited friend. Already barefoot, Heidi stepped out of her fatigues, pulled her shirt over her head and stood before the clothes-covered bed in her pale pink bikini panties and matching bra. “I’m not sure which dress I like better,” she said, slipping into Gigi’s crepe black sheath. She pulled up the zipper and stepped into a pair of black strappy heels. The classic black dress had seemed out of place in Gigi’s closet, but Heidi understood its presence once she saw how it conformed to every bump and curve like a coat of onyx paint. Something a high-priced callgirl might wear to a funeral parlor. Heidi glanced at herself in the mirror. She’d never been into wearing feminine clothes, but tonight she liked the sexy way the dress made her feel. She wanted Rafe to like it, too. She had even put on a little makeup before he arrived. Heidi wondered why it hadn’t occurred to her before today—maybe if she dressed more like a woman, he might see her as one. Ninety-nine percent of the time, Rafe saw her in dirty coveralls and steel-toed boots. How sexy was that?
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“Well, Rafe’s about to see a whole lot more of me,” she whispered to her reflection. She’d managed to scrub her nails clean, although they were still short and masculinelooking. Oh well, some things couldn’t be helped. Mechanics and manicures just didn’t go together. Heidi applied a quick layer of gloss to her lips, scrunched her short curls for good measure and took a deep breath to try and calm the nervous jitters. “Action,” she whispered and headed out into the hallway toward the most important performance of her life.
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Chapter Three
“What do you think?” Heidi asked, taking the three small steps to reach the edge of the living room. Rafe didn’t move or even lift an eyelash. Ah, so he thought he could refuse to play the game. Not this time. She had gone too far out on a limb for this to go anywhere but forward. Heidi crossed to stand in front of him, just out of reach. “Rafe, is this what you want?” He opened his eyes as she reached inside the scooped neck of her dress and pulled a tiny silver key out of her bra. Rafe’s eyes darkened with the intensity of a tornado. His predatory gaze scrolled down her body, singeing a hot trail in its wake that almost had Heidi melting into a puddle right there on the carpet. If Rafe wasn’t at least a little bit turned on, Heidi gave up the hope of understanding human nature. And if she was right, if it was excitement in those obsidian eyes, she hoped it was out of a desire to get his hands on her, not the key. Heidi slipped it back into the right cup of her bra, the metal cool on her radiating skin. Although Rafe’s pupils followed her smallest movement like a stalking jaguar’s, his steady expression seemed to be carved out of granite. Breathe. Breathe and focus. This won’t work if you turn into jelly just because he stares at you.
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Heidi turned her head at an angle and fluffed her hair, more in an attempt to break eye contact and gather her wits than any real need to primp. With a deep but silent breath, she found the fortitude to get back into character. “I thought that might get your attention,” she said, pasting a smile on her lips. “Don’t worry, I’ll only keep you locked up for about another hour. Why don’t you just relax? You’ll see how the time will fly by. Besides, I really do need a male opinion.” Heidi prattled on in her best airhead impersonation. “What do you think of this dress?” She did a milder version of a runway model’s walk and turn, stopping at the spot where she’d begun. Rafe sat stone silent, frowning. “You don’t like it,” she said as a statement, hoping the opposite was true. “That’s okay. I wasn’t sure about it either. I’ll try on another one.” She returned to the bedroom, adding an extra sway to her hips as she walked in the form-fitting dress. The digital clock on her nightstand read seven thirty-three. Heidi breathed a small sigh of relief. Barbara might already be on the prowl for a stand-in bed partner. “You’re probably right, Rafe, it’s not me,” Heidi called out, a satisfied smile on her face. “A simple black dress is so conservative, and we both know I don’t come from a conservative family.” A drunk for a father and a mother who deserts her husband and seven-year-old daughter—not exactly Carol and Mike Brady. Although, Heidi admitted to herself, there were more similarities between her and any of the Brady boys than the girls. Which is why it was good that her best friend was a clotheshorse and wore the same size, otherwise Plan B would have included modeling her own khaki collection. She tossed the black dress on the bed and pulled a fuchsia knit dress over her head. Much like the black one, the hot-pink tank dress was as formfitting as a sausage casing. Heidi had planned to leave the black heels on but—used to wearing work boots most of the time— her ankles were already plotting a mutiny. She pulled off the sandals and headed to the living room in bare feet.
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Heidi felt Rafe’s eyes latch on to her the second she stepped out of the bedroom. Not sure how to interpret the dark scowl still on his face, she decided to ignore it. “How about this one? It definitely isn’t conservative.” Refusing to focus on Rafe’s menacing look, Heidi concentrated on her modeling routine. She turned and swayed, paused and posed. That sexy feeling was back, and she was having fun pretending to be an international supermodel at a photo shoot. “You’re not saying anything. You hate this one, too?” Deep into her role-playing, Heidi had been avoiding Rafe’s eyes. Now she saw them focused on the dress, their intensity almost powerful enough to vaporize the fabric right off her skin. Aroused, Heidi’s nipples pebbled through her thin bra, showing Rafe the effect he had on her. His heated gaze melted any embarrassment she might have been feeling. Then Rafe’s eyes shifted to meet hers, and there was no mistaking the desire smoldering there. She felt the electricity pulsing between them. “Heidi, you need to let me go right now.” He didn’t bark the order as he had before. His voice was soft, and yet infused with power. “Why?” she asked, trance-like and dangerously close to complying with any demand he might issue. “If you don’t let me go right now, I might do something we both know would be a mistake.” Heidi took one step toward him, placing herself only inches out of his reach. “What might you do?” she whispered, so turned on her entire body hummed. More than anything, she longed to hear Rafe say he wanted her. “I might not leave when you unlock me,” he said, causing the pounding of her heart to mimic the throbbing between her legs. She took a tiny step toward Rafe. “What would you do if you stayed?” Another final step brought her within his easy reach. Suddenly the temperature inside the house felt like two-hundred degrees, and one touch from Rafe might very well cause her to spontaneously combust. Heidi’s heart pounded against her ribs, trying to burst free from the confines of her chest. His gaze, and
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the anticipation of what she hoped was going to happen, were making Heidi go out of her mind. Crazy with lust. Just when she couldn’t take another second of waiting, Rafe raised his free hand, resting it on the back of her ankle. Then he slid it, ever so slowly, up her bare calf. Heat radiated up her thigh and settled between her legs, where it warmed the oils of her arousal. His hand continued higher, up the back of her thigh and under the short hem of her dress. Rafe’s burning gaze held hers captive as he stroked her cheek through the silk of her panties. Heidi mouthed his name, but the only thing that escaped her lips was a shaky puff of air. Then Rafe’s thumb hooked over the top of her panties and began dragging them down her legs. He broke their visual connection when he helped her step free of them. That was when Heidi noticed the massive bulge at the fly of his jeans. Such undeniable proof of his desire made her heart leap with joy. He wanted her. She’d waited so long to connect with him in a way more intimate than friendship. Her gaze returned to meet his and she slid the tip of her tongue between her lips to moisten them, wanting his kiss, wanting to be swallowed up by him. “Heidi,” he half-whispered, half-growled, “God help me, I can’t stop myself.” “I don’t want you to stop,” she confessed as his hand slid higher over her bottom, dragging the soft knit fabric of the dress up to reveal her mound. His warm breath on her sent waves of fire throughout her body. With his hand on her behind, Rafe urged her forward. And before she knew what to think, he kissed her. There. She’d heard all about this kind of intimacy from Gigi, but the actual experience wasn’t at all the embarrassing or repulsing act she’d imagined. This was Rafe, and his gesture touched her soul as much as it pleased her body. She’d never felt so connected to him, and Heidi wanted it to last forever. “Spread your legs a little bit more for me,” he whispered. His voice was such a deep purr; Heidi thought she could almost feel the vibration in her core.
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She did as he asked, and Rafe’s tongue found her clitoris, making her twitch with a new, mind-blowing sensation. “So sweet,” he said, his breath fanning her sensitized skin. He urged her back in place and stroked her once again. Heidi felt her knees grow weak and she grasped his shoulders for support. “Rafe, my l-legs.” In response, his hand tightened on her bottom, and his cuffed hand grasped her ankle. A strange tension began mounting inside her, intensifying exponentially. And yet Heidi couldn’t, wouldn’t, back away from the certain collision that must lie ahead of something so powerful. And then suddenly it hit, an orgasm backed by at least five hundred horsepower. Heidi’s head fell back, and her cries of pleasure filled the tiny house. Yet another reason to be glad she lived out in the country, a quarter mile from the nearest neighbor. Ecstasy pulsed through her body like pounding surf, and she lost all sense of time and space. Heidi felt limp as a rag doll as Rafe lowered her into his lap. How much time had passed? Seconds? Minutes? She couldn’t say. “That was an awful lot of heat from such a little candle.” Drained of all energy, she would have been content to nestle in his arms forever. But after waiting for years for his touch, Heidi wasn’t about to give Rafe a moment to talk himself out of taking their relationship to the next level. She wanted him inside her, their bodies joined as intimately as a man and woman could be. A man and woman in love. And she did love him. Had ever since she was sixteen and he’d let her start working at the garage after school. But she was no longer a teenage girl with a bad case of hero-worship. She was a responsible woman who’d come to know Rafe better than he knew himself. And that knowledge told her not to lose the momentum they had going. She made herself speak when her spent body cried for rest. “That was incredible, but I need to feel you inside me.” And before he could respond, Heidi pressed her lips to his. Their first kiss, but it held no innocence. Heidi opened herself to him completely, giving him her tongue and taking
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his with unencumbered eagerness. She felt Rafe’s arousal, hard and hot against her bottom. Knowing she had this effect on him was the ultimate aphrodisiac, and her body hummed for more. More of Rafe, now. “Wait,” she said, shifting to straddle his lap, her dress still baring her almost to her waist. He squeezed one bare cheek in his palm, pushing his groin up against her folds and groaning in apparent frustration when the metal cuff clattered against the bed frame. “Can we get rid of this damned cuff?” he growled between her breasts. “Oh, quit your whining,” she said, knowing he wouldn’t take offense. Heidi reached into her bra and pulled out the key. Rafe nibbled at her breast through the cloth while Heidi released his wrist, leaving the other end of the cuff still affixed to the frame. Then she raised herself on her knees and attacked his belt, the metal button at his waist and his zipper. A sexual novice—and therefore clumsy in undressing him—Heidi was grateful when Rafe whipped his shirt over his head. Heidi froze, mesmerized by the swirls of dark hair covering his chest. God, he didn’t have to do anything more than pull off his shirt, and she forgot her own name. Rafe smiled, and just as she reached out a tentative hand, he pulled her parted lips back to his. Yes, his chest was magnificent, but his kisses defined hot, and soon Heidi was burning for him. “Easy, babe,” he warned when she pulled open his fly. Understanding, she took special care when freeing him. “Oh, my.” The virginal words slipped out before she could check them. This was a night of many firsts, but Heidi didn’t want him to know it. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” he chuckled. Surely not all men were as huge as Rafe, she thought as her gaze went from his laughing eyes back to his erection. Heidi almost voiced her doubts about whether he would fit inside her but managed to bite down on her bottom lip just before her mouth engaged. That’s all she needed, to look like a frightened child. Rafe would be out the door before she could blink.
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“Heidi?” he said, the humor diminishing in his voice. Thinking fast, she smiled an evil smile and softly bit his bottom lip. He devoured her mouth in response, pushing her dress up to her ribs with eager hands. Heidi reached down between them and took him in her fist, pushing her hand down to the base and then back up to the head. “Jesus,” he said, breaking the kiss and gasping into her neck. “I’m already so hot for you. Any more of that and I’m going to come.” He disengaged her hand while kissing one of her breasts through the knit cloth of the dress. She combed her fingers through his thick, dark hair, offering her breast, and more. “Hurry, Rafe, I need you inside me.” Heidi squirmed and pressed herself against him. “Wait, Jesus, I need a condom,” he replied with a raspy voice. Heidi was so far gone, the fact she had forgotten birth control came and went in an instant. Rafe held her waist with one hand and lifted one hip, tugging his wallet out of his back pocket. Wanting to consume him, Heidi covered his face with slow, teasing kisses as he retrieved the small, square packet. He opened it and must have sheathed himself by feel alone since Heidi held his jaw in her palms, demanding his mouth. They kissed hungrily as his hands slid around to cup her bottom. His gentle kneading, along with Heidi’s own rocking motion, brought her forward to meet him. He reached between her legs with one hand and massaged her sex with her body’s warm dew. “You’re so wet,” he whispered into her open mouth. Heidi had no idea how to respond to such an intimate statement. Luckily Rafe didn’t seem to be waiting for a reply. Instead he trailed hot kisses over her jaw and down the side of her neck. Then she gasped in pleasure when she felt him gliding the tip of his penis through her folds, positioning himself to make them one. It was finally happening. If I’m dreaming, please dear God, don’t let me wake up.
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As both of his hands came to rest on her hips, instinct overcame inexperience. Heidi leaned forward to kiss him and slowly sank onto his erection. Rafe stretched her, filled her, both body and soul. “Oh my God!” The initial discomfort was fleeting, and Heidi called out in ecstasy when her bottom came to rest on his upper thighs. Rafe’s reply was unrecognizable but no less audible, and Heidi thrilled at his primitive outcry. Then, led by his skillful hands, she began a rhythmic wave of her hips, which drove him even further into her. The sweet pleasure-pain with each rocking motion had her mindless, and the tension that had continued to build approached astronomic levels. And then her last inner coil snapped. Heidi climaxed just as Rafe stiffened in release. Out of her mind with pleasure, she rode him as if trying to outrun their lovemaking’s inevitable ending. Much too soon, Heidi slowed and fell exhausted against his chest. Rafe stroked his calloused hands over her short hair and all the way down her back to her bottom. “I feel as weak as a newborn kitten,” she purred. “Mmm,” Rafe agreed. “I’m pretty sure Attila could take me right now, too.” He lifted her chin with the tip of his finger and kissed her, tender and yet sustained. When he broke the kiss, she snuggled her head under his prickly chin. Funny, she hadn’t noticed his whiskers earlier. Rafe shifted, and Heidi felt him leave her, surprised at the sudden and profound sense of loss. “Give me a minute,” he said. “I need to get rid of this.” He helped her up onto shaky legs. As she sank onto the sofa, which wasn’t even a distant second in comfort to his arms, Heidi watched Rafe make his way to the bathroom.
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Chapter Four
Rafe had hoped he only imagined the resistance when he’d penetrated Heidi’s sweet body, but when he switched on the bathroom light, his initial suspicion was confirmed. Blood. Not a lot, but definitely blood. Virgin’s blood. “Shit,” he said between clenched teeth. Rafe disposed of the condom and got himself put back together, all the while cursing a blue streak under his breath. Why in the hell didn’t this occur to you? I’ll tell you why, because you let your dick do the thinking. Rafe leaned over the sink and splashed his face with water, trying to cool both his residual desire for Heidi and the fury he felt at his lack of self-control. Turning off the spigot, he glared into the mirror, drops of water dripping from his nose and chin into the basin. “You had no right to take it,” he admonished the reflection in a low growl. “Heidi’s virginity was meant for her future husband, not for you.” Guilt and disgust already gnawed at his gut like flies on a rotting carcass. How could he have let this happen? He’d known it was wrong, known Heidi wasn’t meant for him, but that hadn’t stopped him. “You’re just as weak as she thought you were.” He scolded his reflection. “Shit, maybe she’s right. Maybe Barbara could have tricked you into the sack. But even that wouldn’t have been as big a mistake as making love to Heidi.” “What?”
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He swung around to see Heidi standing in the doorway. In his absence she’d rearranged her dress, but the task hadn’t kept her busy quite long enough. The fury in both her tone and expression told him she’d arrived in time to overhear his last statement. Great. Not only do you rob her of her virginity, now she thinks you didn’t even enjoy it. He was about to correct her very incorrect assumption, when Heidi exploded. “Well, maybe you can still catch Barbara before she hooks some other fish!” She whirled and left the open doorway. “Now wait a minute, Heidi.” Rafe followed her, but she waved him off behind her back. “No, no, I’ve made you suffer enough. God only knows how you stood it.” She stopped dead in her tracks and turned to face him. “But then again, you didn’t have to stand, did you?” If looks could kill, he’d be incinerated. “Listen to me, Heidi—” “Get out,” she said, her voice suddenly turning lifeless and flat. She opened the front door and pushed the storm door open. It was obvious she was waiting for him to cross the threshold. He knew her all too well. She was furious, holding herself in check by only a narrow margin. Maybe he should give her some time to cool off before he tried to explain. Yeah, and maybe you need some time to come up with what to say to try and fix this. Rafe bent to pick up his shirt and wallet from where he’d tossed them on the floor. As he leaned over, he spotted Heidi’s silky, pink panties. Remembering when he’d removed them, his guilt battled desire once more. “I’ll call you tomorrow,” he said, standing to go. “We need to talk about this.” “Don’t bother,” Heidi said, drilling him with a glare. “I’m with you; it was all just a colossal mistake.” “I didn’t say that.” “No, you didn’t. I believe you said—and allow me to paraphrase—you would have preferred to fuck the Black Widow.”
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“That’s not what I said, and you’re deliberately misinterpreting this,” he said, his defense mechanisms powering on out of sheer frustration. Rafe stood his ground in front of her. “Oh, so this is all just a silly misunderstanding on my part?” she said, fists on hips. “Exactly,” he said. Wait—he realized too late—wrong answer. The fire in Heidi’s eyes shot lightning bolts through him. She shoved him out the door, her petite hands pushing against his upper chest with adrenaline-charged, angerinvoked strength. Then the wooden door slammed with a force he suspected might threaten the structural integrity of the house. Great, just fuckin’ great. Rafe turned and stumbled down the stairs, looking around the empty yard for something he could pulverize.
***
Twenty hours later, Rafe still hadn’t scratched that particular itch. He’d managed to destroy the mini-blinds in his bedroom, jam his toaster, char his two remaining pieces of bread to blackened slabs, and set off the smoke detector. After being forced to stand there fanning the damned thing with a magazine until it stopped screaming, he’d given up on the idea of eating and left. Upon arriving at the garage, where he’d fooled himself into thinking he could catch up on some paperwork, he’d broken the key off inside the lock. Maybe his need to mangle something was really a need to mangle someone. Instead, Rafe spent the next hour and a half replacing the lock and brooding about what a mess he’d made of the previous evening. Rafe tried to call Heidi from the garage, and she hung up the second she heard his voice. He attempted two more times, playing out some kind of masochistic role, but she’d stopped picking up. “If that’s the way she feels about it, that’s fine with me,” he growled, throwing his tools in the cabinet and cleaning up.
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“Maybe she’s right,” he told himself later as he stewed at his desk. Maybe they should just put the whole thing behind them. And how could they do that if he kept bringing it up? The lame rationalization got him through the rest of the afternoon, but by dinner he couldn’t sit for more than ten seconds, let alone eat. “This is a perfect example of why we shouldn’t be together. If she was older, she’d understand the need to talk things out like rational adults.” Rafe tossed his uneaten microwave dinner into the trash. “I’m going over there, and she’s damn well going to listen to what I have to say, whether she wants to or not.” But fifteen minutes later, as he arrived at Heidi’s house, there were no lights or noises coming from the house. Her black CRX was in its usual parking spot by the kitchen steps, but there didn’t appear to be anyone home. Heidi wouldn’t pretend she wasn’t here. She’d be more likely to point Harmon’s old shotgun out the front door and threaten to shoot his balls off. Bound and determined not to leave before talking to her, Rafe drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, thinking. He spotted an old muscle-car magazine on the floor of the passenger side. Picking it up and flipping to no page in particular, he settled back to wait for her to come home.
***
“I’ll have another one of these.” Heidi had to yell to be heard over the pounding music. The hunky waiter gave her a wink and moved on to the other women at the table. “Say, what’s this drink called again?” she asked her best friend, Gigi, before taking a long sip from the straw. Gigi was on her feet tucking a dollar bill in the G-string of the male dancer next to their table, her hips grinding in perfect synchronization with his. “Gigi!” Heidi tugged at the hem of her friend’s miniskirt. Gigi rubbed her right hand over the stud’s pectoral, trying with her other hand to free herself from Heidi’s grasp.
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Not about to be ignored, Heidi grabbed a fistful of black, simulated alligator skin and yanked. Gigi fell back into the vinyl padded chair. “Hey!” she complained. “Now look what you’ve done. He’s leaving.” Gigi’s bottom lip protruded in what looked to be genuine disappointment. “So what? He probably has a gym sock stuffed in that thing anyway.” “Oh, no.” Gigi’s gaze still followed the almost naked man. “That guy’s package is one hundred percent authentic.” “How do you know? Wait. Forget I asked. I do not want to know.” Heidi sucked down the last of her drink and tried not to think about how impressive Rafe’s “package” had been. She slammed the empty glass down and looked down the rectangular table at the other guests of the bachelorette party. Everyone was having a great time. Everyone but her. “Maybe I shouldn’t have come.” “Not come? Are you kidding? I would have tied you up and dragged you here if I’d had to.” Heidi felt the expression on her face instantly morph from pouting-puppy to hounddog sad. “Sorry,” Gigi added, “bad choice of words.” The mention of restraint reminded Heidi too much of the handcuffs Gigi had borrowed from a deputy friend for Heidi’s escapade last night. And last night was the only reason she’d agreed to accompany Gigi tonight. A sad attempt to forget the best, and worst, night of her life. Their waiter reappeared, setting another tall, dewy glass in front of her. Gigi, being Gigi, started flirting with the shirtless hunk, leaving Heidi free to continue sulking. She slouched down in her chair, wishing she could change history, at least the last twentyfour hours of it. Rafe. Heidi sighed all the way down to her toes and then took a long drag from the straw.
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How could he regret what had happened between them? She’d felt their souls connect, just as surely as their bodies had. How could he not have felt it, too? But maybe her inexperience was blinding her to the reality of sex. Maybe all sex made you feel that way. Although he’d never been the kind of guy to flaunt them, Heidi knew Rafe had had his share of lovers. And she’d bet every last one of them had been more experienced at pleasuring a man than she was. “Well, after last night, I guess I know how rotten a lover I am,” Heidi mumbled to no one in particular. She took another sip and closed her eyes, feeling more relaxed every minute. “Yessiree…” She took yet another sip of the fruity drink and then closed her eyes, forgetting what she’d been about to say. “Hey, Sleeping Beauty, wake up.” Heidi opened her eyes. Gigi was swaying her hips to the beat of the hypnotic music. At least Heidi thought it was Gigi who was swaying and not her own eyeballs in their sockets. “I’m not sleeping,” she said, “and I’m certainly no beauty.” “Bull.” Gigi yanked Heidi to her feet. She caught hold of Gigi’s arm, trying to steady herself. “I don’t want to hear any more crap like that come out of your mouth, got that?” Gigi gave her a rough hug and then spun her around. Not only did the spin make Heidi lose all sense of balance, but it just so happened to knock her into the bare chest of one of the male dancers. “Whoa, careful now.” He caught her shoulders. Heidi’s hands rested against his smooth, well-defined chest. She looked up, focusing first on a black bow tie and then higher into smiling hazel eyes. “I’m ssso sssorry.” The slur in her speech surprised her. Maybe she’d had a little too much to drink. Heidi pushed against his firm chest muscles to right herself but let her fingers and gaze linger on his sleek skin. “Rafe has dark chest hair.”
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“What did you say? I can’t hear you over the music,” the dancer said in a raised voice. Funny, Heidi barely heard the music. “She said, your chest turns her on,” Gigi yelled from behind her. I did? “Oh. Well, thanks.” The dancer resumed the hip-grinding dance the other women seemed to love. “Yours isn’t bad either.” “Tip him.” Gigi urged her with an elbow in the small of Heidi’s back. “Huh?” Heidi was still thinking about a chest with swirls of dark brown hair over tight muscles. “Here.” Her friend shoved some crumpled bills into Heidi’s limp hand and then steered it toward the dancer’s gyrating G-string. Stupefied, Heidi watched her fingers approach what Gigi so lovingly referred to as “the guy’s package”. Seeming as distant as if it were playing on a movie screen rather than happening inches in front of her, Heidi watched her fingers tuck the money underneath the edge of the dancer’s satin pouch. “Thanks.” His white teeth flashed a GQ smile. “You’re welcome.” Dazed, Heidi watched him move on down the table to the woman Gigi’s brother would soon make his bride. “See? Wasn’t that fun?” Heidi turned to look at her friend, who was grinning like a mother who’d just watched her child go for her first pony ride. Heidi began laughing until tears formed, rooted in humor and sorrow. “At least I know you love me,” she told Gigi as they embraced. “Oh, that jackass loves you, too. He has for a long time. He’s just too much of an upstanding citizen to admit that he’s fallen for someone ten years younger.” “Nine.” Heidi hiccupped. “And he doesn’t love me.” She sniffled. “And stop making him sound like he’s sixty.” Then she flopped down into her chair. Gigi sat down next to her, making them the only two women in the club not squealing and dancing.
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“But you should have heard what he said. I’ve screwed everything up.” Heidi picked up her glass and did her best to drain it. “Now answer me this, Heidi Callihan. Who knows more about men than anyone?” “You do.” Heidi made a loud slurping sound with her straw at the bottom of the glass. “Damn straight. Now I don’t care what Rafe said—although right now I’d like to clock the big jerk for making my best friend so damned miserable. But take it from me, the man’s crazy about you.” Full of disbelief, Heidi looked at Gigi dancing in front of her. Although, how could she be dancing when they were both sitting down? “You really think he’s crazy about me?” She sniffled. “I know so.” Gigi wrapped an arm around Heidi and hugged her again. “I feel like I’ve lost my best friend.” “Hey, I thought I was your best friend.” “You know what I mean. I don’t know what I’m going to do.” She reached for her glass again, only to find it empty. “Now, I’ll tell you what we’re gonna do,” Gigi said in a comforting voice. “We’re gonna stuff some more money in the skimpy underwear of perfectly sculpted men, and then you’re staying over at my place. Tomorrow we’ll figure out how you’re going push Rafe over the edge of his stuffy, Father-Knows-Best cliff.”
***
“Good morning, George,” Rafe said, not really meaning it. George Gilman had stepped out of his shiny green Ford Explorer just as Rafe unlocked and lifted the garage doors. “Mornin’, Rafe,” George replied. “I know it’s not quite seven, but I wanted to be first in line.” The retired postal worker followed his car maintenance schedule to the
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letter, but today, it would be more of an inconvenience than a benefit. George always hung close to the service bay while “his baby” was being serviced. “No problem, George. Heidi’s not here yet. Why don’t you go ahead and pull it in my side.” There goes my chance to talk to her about the other night, he thought. “Morning, George,” Heidi said ten minutes later when she arrived. “Morning, Rafe,” she added, her smile wider than the broad side of a barn. What’s she so damned happy about? “Morning, Heidi,” George replied, drowning out Rafe’s half-hearted grumble. “I beat you both here this morning. I was just telling Rafe, Esther and I are driving down to her sister’s in Kentucky, so I wanted to get everything in tip-top shape.” “If only all car owners were as conscientious as you are. Isn’t that right, Rafe?” Heidi said, her gaze steady on the Ford’s engine block. She was talking like nothing at all had happened between them. Rafe wanted to kill her. He wanted to wring her little neck. He’d just slip his fingers inside the open collar of her shirt and around her slender neck, her warm skin, so soft, slipping her buttons free, cupping her breasts as he slipped into her warm, tight… Shit, what had started out as a strangulation fantasy had suddenly morphed into a grope-fest. “I didn’t check the cash box. Do you need me to pick up some change?” Heidi asked, not even looking his way. Rafe gave her a curt “No,” and before anyone noticed the hard-on he now sported, he headed to the storeroom. He stood in front of the shelves, already forgetting what he’d meant to retrieve, his pulse pounding with lingering fury and arousal. After the fight they’d had, she should still be angry, or pouting, or…something. But she wasn’t. Just the opposite. She was acting like it had never happened. What had happened that could make her forget all about their argument? Or at least the reason for it. He knew he’d never be able to forget what had happened between them. Hell, he couldn’t sleep for thinking about it. Wanting it to happen again. No. It can’t happen again. Rafe took a few slow, controlling breaths.
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Where had she spent the weekend? Saturday night he’d waited for Heidi to come home, not dragging himself home to bed until five a.m. Then her phone went unanswered all day Sunday. He’d driven out to her place again at dusk, only to find it as it had been the evening before, dark and quiet. Had she spent the night with another guy? Who knows what she might have done in the temper she’d been in? His hands fisted. Just the idea of anyone else’s hands on Heidi made him insane. Rafe had to know. In fact, he’d had a speech all ready. He wouldn’t lose his temper this time. He’d already hurt her enough; but he had to know who she’d been with. He’d be damned if he let some other guy use her. The way he had. Rafe clenched a fan belt and then turned toward the door. No, wait, this wasn’t what he needed. Shit, she has me tied in so many knots I don’t know what I’m doing. Rafe took another deep breath and tossed the belt back into the box on the shelf. After a few seconds of intense concentration, he moved an old, unused oilcan spout to the top shelf so he could grab the filter he needed. “We wondered what was taking you so long,” George said from his perch on an inverted oil drum when Rafe returned. “You got a girl tied up back there?” The reference to bondage made Rafe shoot a look Heidi’s way, but she was rummaging in the tool cabinet and acted as if she hadn’t heard. Anger and frustration had clever comebacks teetering on the tip of Rafe’s tongue. What kind of sick-o would tie somebody up? and Unlike some people, I’m not into bondage, or I don’t need to confine my women to get what I want. But knowing it was best not to start anything in front of George, Rafe forced a chuckle. Maybe he’d use one of those little beauties later when he and Heidi could speak privately.
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Chapter Five
“Say, my new next-door neighbor’s been having some engine trouble,” George said. “I told him to bring his car over and you’d fix him up.” “I appreciate the referral, George.” Rafe’s voiced echoed from under the hood. “I didn’t realize anyone on your street moved away.” Heidi was glad to have the change of subject. George’s comment had hit a little too close to home. Heidi wasn’t sure how long she was going to be able to pull off this casual routine around Rafe. “You didn’t hear about Liv Grummer moving over to one of those assisted-living apartments at Meadowview?” Heidi had to let a few seconds pass as she replayed George’s question. Between the drool-inducing view of Rafe’s butt as he leaned over the Ford’s fender and the car battery she was replacing having so much corrosion it seemed cemented in place, it was difficult to follow the conversation. “Oh, yeah, now that you mention it, I did.” “Nice young fella bought her place. Moved in week ago yesterday. He’s a high school teacher over in Newtown.” “Hmm,” she replied. Although her hands chiseled away at blue-white buildup, in her mind they were gliding along the muscles of Rafe’s chest. “Said he might swing by later.” “Well, if he does, we’ll take good care of him,” she heard Rafe say.
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***
Heidi smelled Calvin Klein’s Obsession a good five seconds before she saw Barbara. It was a good thing that George was long gone. The invisible cloud of perfume threatened to constrict her air passages, and she wasn’t a seventy-year-old man carrying forty extra pounds around. Heidi held her breath and plastered on a smile as the Black Widow swayed her way in the open garage door. “There you are,” Barbara said, pointing one red-painted claw at Rafe. The Black Widow was dressed to kill in a burgundy leather miniskirt and matching vest. And of course, Heidi thought, she hadn’t bothered to layer a shirt underneath. Jeez, the woman had enough cleavage for five women. Looking at the package Barbara presented, Heidi began to question the wisdom of this little plot twist. Gigi had insisted Heidi let Rafe compare her to the women in his age bracket, starting with Barbara Murillo. Hardened women more interested in securing their financial futures than holding out for true love. But seeing the Widow Murillo’s outfit, and how well it displayed her generous curves, Heidi wasn’t so sure their strategy was sound. Rafe backed out from under the hood of Patty Olson’s Caravan. “Barbara.” He looked at the woman like he was facing a firing squad. “Now, don’t worry,” Barbara said, reaching him and patting his muscled chest. “Holly called and explained everything to me.” She turned her head toward Heidi and gave her a toothy smile. Heidi mirrored one equally false. “And just what did Holly tell you?” Rafe asked. He looked at Heidi for only a moment, his eyes burning a warning into hers. Then he looked back down at Barbara. “She told me how the sheriff needed you to assist in the manhunt of some escaped felon named Attila. Holly said you’d had to leave the garage so quickly you’d asked her to call and let me know why you wouldn’t make it. She’d been so worried that you might be killed she forgot all about calling.” Barbara clung to his arm, forcing his elbow into
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her lush cleavage. “I didn’t know the sheriff involved civilians in manhunts. It all must have been very hush-hush. I didn’t hear anything about an escapee on the news.” Heidi was still shocked that Barbara had bought the outrageous story. Although the woman was a conniving sleaze, she really must be as brainless as a tire iron. “I just wanted you to know I’m not upset about you missing our date Friday night,” Barbara purred. Heidi wiped off her socket and returned it to the cabinet, knowing now that Barbara was lying about their plans being categorized a date. “I think you were so brave to put your life on the line, to insure the safety of people like myself and Tony Junior. Why, if an escaped criminal forced his way into my house, who knows what might happen?” Barbara squeezed Rafe’s arm further between her breasts and feigned a shiver of fear. Heidi rolled her eyes heavenward and mentally counted to ten. “Well,” Rafe said, “Holly might have exaggerated the danger of the situation. Attila didn’t end up being as mean as his reputation made him out to be.” “Oh, she told me you’d do this. Try and downplay the danger and your involvement. Don’t even waste your breath. I’ve always thought you were a man who would do anything to protect the people he loved.” The smile Heidi had pasted on her face since the woman arrived began to twitch. If Barbara pressed herself against Rafe any harder he’d tip over. But, judging from the idiotic grin on his face, the jerk seemed to be enjoying the bodily contact. “Well, I’m so relieved Holly straightened everything out with you.” Rafe glanced Heidi’s way, giving her a you-started-this grin, then looked back down at Barbara. “Of course, I’m going to have to ask you to keep the manhunt our little secret. I wouldn’t want the story surfacing and the sheriff’s department tracing it back to me. That could jeopardize my security clearance.” Behind Barbara’s back, Heidi’s jaw dropped in surprise. She never would have expected Rafe to embellish an already far-fetched story. In all the years she’d known Rafe, spontaneity and recklessness had been as foreign to him as lion taming. Yet here he
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was, waist-deep in hogwash, with a grin on his face. She snapped her mouth closed and tried to summon an expression of amusement. “Holly,” Rafe began. The other name was really grating on Heidi’s nerves. “Think you can hold down the fort for me? Since Barbara has been so understanding, I think I should to try and make it up to her by taking her out to lunch.” He gave Heidi a smile, which she equated to a big raspberry, then turned his attention back to Barbara. “That is, if you’re free?” “It just so happens, I am.” A Cheshire cat smile spread across Barbara’s face. Heidi had to remind herself she and Gigi wanted Rafe to go out with Barbara. But for someone who three days ago was denying any personal interest in the Black Widow, he wasn’t supposed to look so darned pleased about the prospect. “Great. Just give me a minute to wash up and we’ll go.” Heidi noticed Barbara glance her way. “I’ll just wait for you in your office,” the woman said. “You don’t mind if I use your phone, do you?” I can’t believe it. She doesn’t even want to stand out here and speak to me now that she thinks she has Rafe. Or maybe she’s plotting something. Maybe clearing her schedule for a little bedroom dessert with Rafe. “Barbara probably needs to let Tony Junior’s sitter know she’s going out for lunch.” The words tumbled out of Heidi’s mouth before she had a chance to consider them. “Actually, Tony Junior left yesterday to spend a week in Cleveland with his nana.” Barbara looked down her nose at Heidi, then slid her gaze to Rafe. “I’m at your disposal for six whole days.” She drew out the last three words in an unmistakable invitation. Hoping to see some hint of revulsion in Rafe’s expression, Heidi was disappointed when his smile suggested quite the opposite. “Well, I’ll just keep that in mind,” he replied. And with a grin that made Heidi clench her teeth behind her lips, Rafe headed to the men’s room.
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***
“He’s been gone almost two hours, Gigi.” Heidi sat up straighter in Rafe’s desk chair and peeked through the windows to make sure there weren’t any customers in the garage. “I don’t know if this was such a good idea.” “Don’t sweat it. They probably drove over to Newtown for lunch. I can see Barbara suggesting someplace where she could show him off to some of the rich women from her health spa. It’s twenty minutes each way.” Heidi wished she still had as much confidence in their plan as her friend did. “But you should have seen her outfit, Gigi.” “I don’t have to see it to know it was short, tight and low-cut. Remember, she shops at the same places I do. But you don’t need to worry about that. Has Rafe ever looked at me that way?” “No, I guess not,” Heidi answered with a sigh. “See, there’s your proof. He wants a woman who saves it for him and him alone. Someone like you.” “Well…” “My boss is headed this way, so I’ve got to go. Don’t worry. Rafe isn’t seriously interested in Barbara Murillo.” A knock on the glass panel of the door brought Heidi around in her chair. A nicelooking guy in his mid-twenties smiled at her through the window. “I’ve got a customer anyway. I’ll talk to you later.” She hung up the phone. “Can I help you?” Heidi asked, stepping out of the office. She caught herself trying to brush the wrinkles out of the front of her coveralls and shoved her hands deep into the pockets. “I hope so. My car’s been running a bit rough. George Gilman said this was the best place in Greenville to bring it for service.” He crossed his arms and leaned his hip against the fender of the minivan in Rafe’s bay. The man had a warm smile that he wasn’t afraid to use.
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“Oh, you must be the new neighbor George mentioned. He was in first thing this morning.” Heidi offered her hand in greeting. He took it and returned her firm grip. “That’s me. My name’s Sean Fitzgerald, and you must be Heidi. George sang your praises, along with the owner’s.” Wanting to keep her mind off Rafe and what he might be doing with Barbara, Heidi concentrated on the Gilmans. “George and Esther are such a nice couple. You’re lucky to have them for neighbors.” Sean’s genuine smile made it easy for Heidi to return one of her own. “Yeah, they’re great. Kind of like having my grandparents next door.” “Didn’t George tell me you were a teacher in Newtown?” she asked. “Yes, high school history.” Sean straightened and casually hooked his thumbs in the pockets of his chinos. “I’m also the head football coach for the Lions.” That explained the man’s build. He was lean and muscular. The kind of coach who actively participated in team training. Not that she was interested. Maybe she should get the conversation back to his automobile so he wouldn’t interpret her small talk as anything more than kindness. Heidi looked over Sean’s shoulder but couldn’t see a car parked outside the open bay. He must have pulled it off to a spot the side. “Well, why don’t you pull your car into the other bay, Sean, and I’ll take a look at it.” “Be glad to.” He turned and half-jogged out the door and out of sight. As Heidi moved to her open bay, she heard an engine roar to life. A rough rumble, but with some serious guts behind it. After another moment, a black, 1963, split-window Corvette glided into the garage. Heidi was mesmerized by the classic automobile. “Sweet ’Vette,” she said, as he shifted it into neutral and set the brake. Heidi stood next to the driver’s door and lightly ran the pad of her finger along the edge. The car was pristine, like it had just rolled off the assembly line. And if there was ever an automobile that could be considered sexy, this was it. Heidi couldn’t believe this car had been in town for close to a month and they hadn’t heard about it at the garage.
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“Thanks,” he said, “I think so, too.” Heidi continued to admire the car. “Should I shut it off?” he asked, breaking her out of her trance. Heidi gave him a slow nod. “Oh, yeah.” As Sean got out of the car, she rubbed her hands together. “Don’t tell my boss this, but I’m going to feel like I should pay you for the opportunity to work on this car.” “Well, you take special care of her, and we’ll see what you and I can work out.”
***
Rafe checked his watch for what seemed like the thousandth time. He hoped being away from the garage for three hours would have Heidi convinced that he and Barbara had mended all fences. The truth of the matter was he’d dropped Barbara off over an hour ago and had been pacing around his house waiting for more time to pass. Staying away had been nerve-wracking, but it was necessary to create the illusion. The idea had come to him toward the tail end of Heidi’s cock and bull story. What a doozy it had been, too. He’d had a helluva time keeping a straight face in front of Barbara. Rafe had known the Widow Murillo’s sights were set on him, but either the woman was desperate enough to overlook a blatant lie, or her Wonderbra was limiting the oxygen supply to her brain. Along with maintaining a convincing poker face, it had been damn-near impossible to read Heidi’s Barbie-doll expression. The twinkle in her eyes seemed to reflect amusement one moment and then anger the next. She’d been so cool all morning; was she still furious with him? As Rafe drove back to the garage, he almost hoped so. He’d rather she be angry than hurt. Rafe got out of his truck, wondering whether Heidi would still greet him with this morning’s casual indifference. If they’d gotten busy at the garage, she would have called him on his cell phone, right? Wait, he forgot. He hadn’t replaced the stupid thing yet.
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Relieved that cars weren’t piled up in the lot, he approached the open service bay doors. Rafe heard Heidi’s laughter, joined by that of a man. Rounding the corner, he spotted Heidi standing alongside a blond-haired man and a Corvette the likes of which Rafferty’s Auto Repair had never seen. His arrival had gone unnoticed and Rafe couldn’t help but feel Heidi seemed unconcerned about whether he ever returned. Was the sudden pang in his chest a cut to his heart or his ego? Rafe took another look at the man who appeared to be quite successful in entertaining his ace mechanic. The guy was clean-cut and probably about twenty-five. Closer to Heidi’s age, Rafe thought. The idea of a younger man vying for her affections, which was what Rafe knew would be in Heidi’s best interest, irked him all the same. Rafe noted the fellow’s muscular build. About five-eleven, maybe one hundred and eighty pounds. Seemed to smile an awful lot, though. But that was Heidi’s doing, he reasoned. Hell, Rafe caught himself grinning like an idiot whenever she was around. She just had that effect on people. “Oh, there you are, Rafe,” Heidi said. “There’s someone here I’d like you to meet.” The man faced Rafe and stepped forward, extending his right hand. “Sean Fitzgerald.” “Sean is the new neighbor George was telling us about.” Heidi’s eyes were dancing with excitement. Rafe swallowed a feral growl and met the man’s gaze. “Nice to meet you, Sean. Joe Rafferty, but everyone calls me Rafe.” He returned Sean’s shake, surprised at his own primal urge to squeeze and maim; his desire to make the guy wither down onto his knees. “I think I’m going to have to get after George for not mentioning Sean’s car this morning.” Heidi gleamed at Sean, and Rafe felt something akin to a knife slicing through his flesh. “It is a beauty,” he managed to agree.
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Rafe turned his attention to the car, fighting to maintain conversation while his emotions battled away inside. “What’s wrong with her?” “Nothing now. Heidi found the problem immediately,” Sean said. “It was just a cracked vacuum hose. No big deal,” she said, her gaze sweeping the length of the car. “But it was an awesome experience getting under her hood.” Heidi whipped a clean polishing rag out of her back pocket and attacked an area on the edge of the hood. “Well, I’m glad Heidi was able to take care of it for you.” Rafe hoped the comment sounded more sincere than he felt saying it. He was at odds with himself. As a businessman, he was pleased to have a happy customer. However, as a man, Rafe wanted to kill Sean Fitzgerald for putting that sparkle in Heidi’s eyes. Their conversation was cut short by Patty Olsen returning to pick up her minivan. Rafe told Sean good-bye and directed his customer, infant-carrier and squalling toddler in tow, to the office. Recording Patty’s payment, Rafe noticed Sean’s invoice on the desk. Heidi had already concluded their business. Rafe wondered just how long Sean had been hanging around and was ashamed to admit the sense of relief he felt when the refined roar of the Corvette started up and then slowly faded away. Heidi was busy rotating a set of tires on another car as Patty pulled away. Then their new tire delivery arrived, followed by a customer dropping off his car for early morning service the next day. By the time Rafe was free to talk, Heidi had headed home. A sense of emptiness swelled within him and after a moment Rafe realized why. This was the first time in seven years Heidi had taken off without saying good-bye.
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Chapter Six
Heidi teetered on the three-rung stepladder, rummaging through the things on the high shelf inside her closet. Boy, was it time to purge. Gray sweatpants with a missing drawstring flew over her shoulder onto the bed to be discarded. A misshapen ball cap found a temporary home on her head. Two missing socks, a well-loved but forgotten stuffed elephant, a leopard-print-covered diary, and three shoebox lids were added to a growing pile on the floor in order for her to continue the search. “There you are.” Heidi grasped the tube and descended before trying to roll the rubber band off the paper cylinder. Her efforts were expedited when with one touch, the parched band snapped, returning to the shadowy depths of her closet. Heidi unrolled the poster, the glossy paper crackling as it flattened. Sinking to the floor by the bed, she smiled at the poster. “How many hours did I fantasize about you?” She stared at the image: a red, 1963, split-window Corvette against a backdrop of lapis blue. “Thousands?” Seeing Sean’s Corvette had sent her back to her teens. She’d dreamed of owning a car like his in the way that most teenage girls dreamed of dating rock stars. The image had hung across from her bed for years; watching teenage heartthrob posters come and go. After drawn-out seconds full of memories, Heidi rolled it up, secured it with an old hair scrunchie off the floor and set it behind her on the bed. She’d give the poster to
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George to pass on to Sean. The car had been a great dream, but the practical side of Heidi’s personality now knew that’s all it would ever be. She spotted the long-forgotten diary at her feet. Picking it up, Heidi flicked open the latch and fluttered through the gold-edged pages until she paused at one with a folded corner. She flattened the page and read. February 17th—Snowed like crazy today. The good part is, Rafe gave me a ride home. The bad part is, I think he might have noticed the bottom of my boot flapping. At first I was really embarrassed, but then he told me this joke about a preacher and a rabbi on a golf course that was so funny I laughed all the way home. I like to close my eyes and pretend he kissed me good-bye. I bet he’s the best kisser in the world. I saw him frenching Dawn Hammond once. I thought I’d die. I wish he’d kiss me that way. P.S. I’m glad Dawn moved away, even though she was kind of nice to me.
Heidi shut the journal and then her eyes, letting her head sag back on the edge of the mattress. She couldn’t remember a time she hadn’t loved Rafe. For a short time like a father or a brother, then as a mad teenage crush. But over the years of working together and coming to know him, infatuation had transformed into a sense of wholeness. We belong together. A tear seeped out from under her eyelid, pooling, waiting for gravity to betray her will. “No,” she insisted with a whisper, swiping the bead away. “I’m not going to sit here and cry. So what if he had fun with Barbara at lunch today. That doesn’t mean anything else happened.” At least she assumed he’d had a good time. He’d been gone so long there hadn’t been time to find out anything once he got back to the garage. “Have faith in Rafe. Have faith in yourself. Have faith in the plan.” Heidi whispered the mantra Gigi had drilled into her the night before. “The man’s head over heels in love with you. He just doesn’t want to admit it, even to himself,” Gigi had insisted.
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Heidi’s mind returned, as it had thousands of times in the past two days, to Friday night. When they had made love, not only had she given him all of herself, but she would have sworn he’d reciprocated. How could they connect that way and he not understand the depth of his feelings? Then niggling doubt made Heidi remember what he’d said afterwards. Making love to her had been a mistake. Jealousy, anger, sadness, love, frustration… All of the emotions inside her tangled and clawed, each wanting to gain dominance over the others. And just as Heidi felt on the very brink of erupting, Attila tiptoed onto her lap. He nuzzled against her chest and then curled into a feather-light ball on her lap. A warm sense of peace spread crept down her extremities, like sinking into a warm tub of water. “Thanks, I needed that,” she said, scratching his tiny jaw. And with that mindless finger stroke and Attila’s purr, came a welcome respite of dual contentment.
***
“Where’s Rafe?” Larry Mills asked Heidi. A very good question, she thought. “He had to run out for a bit,” she told the loyal customer. “But he made sure your car was ready before he left.” She wisely left off the part about Barbara Murillo showing up for another lunch date in a halter dress that practically screamed, “Do me, baby”. Rumors might soon be circulating about Rafe and the Black Widow, but Heidi wasn’t going to be the one to initiate them. She took care of Larry and within minutes was back at work repairing the punctured tire on the pickup in her bay. That job completed, Heidi parked the truck out in the lot and clipped the keys to the clipboard holding the corresponding paperwork. With no one else waiting and the only other car in for service still waiting for a part, she began putting away some of the supplies that had been delivered earlier that morning.
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“Must be nice, taking these extended lunches,” she grumbled as she stacked oil filters on the shelf. “And why even offer to bring me back a sandwich if you’re not coming back for hours?” The stale package of peanut butter crackers she’d found in the desk drawer was starting to sound good. “It’s lucky we’re not busy.” Heidi tore down an empty box and headed back to the stacks for another. “Not that I can’t handle things here,” she continued aloud, feeling more selfrighteous with each step. “I’ve run this place by myself before.” She glanced up at the aging Coca-Cola clock on the wall. “Like when he moved his mother to Florida.” Heidi balanced the box on her knee in order to turn the knob on the storeroom door. Spotting a five-gallon bucket nearby, she tried to push it over with her foot to prop open the door. Balancing on one foot, holding a case of brake fluid and trying to maneuver the bucket called for more coordination than she could muster. Heidi lost her balance and dropped the box, splitting it open and sending cans in all directions. “Damn.” She dropped to her knees to begin gathering them up. “I ought to just lock up and go home for the day. Why should I do all the work around here?” She knew how childish she sounded and didn’t care. She began arranging a neat pile of cans on the shelf. Rafe worked his tail off, normally. But maybe things would never be normal again. At least, not between them. With all but two cans retrieved, Heidi spotted one that had come to rest against the wall between shelving units. Reaching between them, she shouldered one of the metal units, knocking a forgotten oil spout off the top shelf. “Ugh!” Heidi felt the metal tip slice her temple before the spout clattered to the ground. She managed to back away from the shelf on her knees before rocking back into a sitting position. Swiping at her head, she felt her fingers slip through blood. Adrenaline kicked in and Heidi got to her feet, rushing toward the restroom.
***
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Rafe hustled out of his truck, hoping Heidi’s burger and fries weren’t stone-cold. Even though he’d ordered the food after he and Barbara had finished eating, she’d primped so long in the restroom that it was probably petrified. Passing through the open garage doors, Rafe noticed the pile of supplies. Obviously Heidi had started putting them away. Damn, he’d meant to tell her he’d do it after he got back. Not that it would have made any difference. Her usual stubbornness seemed to be compounded tenfold this morning, and it didn’t take a college degree to figure out why. He headed in the direction of the storage room and then spotted a bright red trail of blood on the cement floor. It ran from the storeroom, across the back of the garage, to the restroom door. “Heidi!” He dropped the take-out bag and reached the restroom in less than one of his now-accelerated heartbeats. “What happened? Are you okay?” he said, not even pausing to knock before flinging open the door. Rafe was relieved to see her standing by the basin, but his protective instincts were still on full alert. The front of her coverall was splattered with blood, and she was applying pressure to the side of her head. “Let me see,” he said, assessing and taking charge. He was at her side in an instant. Wincing, Heidi tilted the blood-soaked wad of paper towels away from her temple to reveal a nasty gash at the hairline. Rafe knew it wasn’t a life-threatening wound, but the sight of such an injury on his Heidi was alarming. Her complexion was one shade shy of ghostly, or at least it seemed that way against the streaks of crimson staining her face and neck. She needed stitches, no doubt about it. Without another word, Rafe scooped her up into his arms. “What are you doing?” she asked, after her gasp of surprise. “I’m taking you to the emergency room.” He’d shouldered open the door of the restroom and was heading out one of the open garage doors. “Rafe, put me down. I can walk.” “Not as fast as I can,” he said, already opening the passenger door of the truck and setting Heidi inside. “Now keep applying pressure.”
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He ran back to the open doors and yanked them both closed, not bothering to take the extra time to secure the locks. Hell, he didn’t care if someone stole every tool he had. Taking care of Heidi was more important.
***
“Thanks for everything, Rafe. You can go home now,” Heidi said from the sofa. She felt stupid enough. Having him treat her like she was an invalid was getting irritating. Still, she didn’t have the heart to tell him so. He had shown up just in time. Heidi didn’t think she could have driven herself to the hospital while simultaneously applying enough pressure to the right side of her head. And calling 911—well, in her book that option was reserved for loss of limb or stroke victims. “I thought I’d thrown that old spout away,” he groused again. “This wouldn’t have happened if I’d just pitched the thing.” Rafe stood at the living room window looking out, but she didn’t think he was focused on anything in particular. “Rafe, I’m fine. This isn’t your fault. Accidents happen. Now, you need to get back to the garage. You didn’t even lock it up.” “I don’t give a damn about a few tools,” he said, sounding even angrier. There was a lot more at stake than a few tools. He made it sound like all they used at the garage was a couple screwdrivers. And they might not keep a lot of cash in the office, but there was some. Not to mention the keys to the tow truck parked outside. “Rafe, I appreciate you taking me to the ER, but I’m fine. You get going, and I’ll see you in the morning.” He turned to face her. “You’re not coming to work in the morning,” he stated with a dictatorial tone that made her jaw clench. “Of course I am.” “The hell you are. You’re going to follow doctor’s orders and take it easy for a day or two.” He grabbed the television remote and dropped it in her lap.
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“There’s no need for me to stay home. I feel fine.” Okay, so the over-the-counter pain medication they’d given her hadn’t alleviated the throbbing in her head, but sitting around here all day tomorrow thinking about it wasn’t going to help. “Bull. Your head’s pounding, and we both know it.” “Rafe, you’re not my father,” she said in a voice just as stubborn as his. “No, I’m your boss, and if you show up at the garage anytime tomorrow, you’re fired.” His smile reflected his pleasure at one-upping her. He headed toward the door. “I’ll tow your car out tomorrow night.” She’d forgotten about her CRX. It was still at the garage. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” Rafe said. “Meanwhile, do me a favor. Be a couch potato, just for one day.” “I don’t have much choice with no car,” she replied, crossing her arms over her chest. As he turned the knob, there was a momentary ripple in Rafe’s high-handedness. “I could hang around for awhile if you want. Do you need anything?” Oh, brother, here we go again. The last thing Heidi wanted was to have Rafe hanging around her place. The memories of what had happened between them only a few days ago were hard enough to forget without the man here. If there was any chance of something happening between them again, Heidi would gladly succumb to more blows to the head, but Rafe had made it clear that the first time had been a mistake. Her best shot hadn’t been good enough, and if there was one thing Heidi wouldn’t do, it was beg. As much as she’d complained about him carrying her to the truck and later into the hospital, Heidi had to admit it had felt wonderful to be in his arms again. Lust had almost caused her to make a fool out of herself and beg Rafe for his affection, but she’d managed to suppress the impulse. Heidi had decided long ago never to beg anyone for anything. Her mother’s abandonment—despite the pleading little girl wrapped around her legs—had taught her that lesson. Meeting Rafe’s gaze, Heidi saw guilt and pity. There were a lot of looks she’d like to be on the receiving end of from Rafe, but this was not one of them.
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“I need my car,” she said, “not a nursemaid.” “Tomorrow,” he replied, turning his head and leaving before Heidi had a chance to read his expression. Lost in thought, Heidi could hear the crunching gravel as he pulled away but didn’t register when it eventually faded to complete silence. “What in the world am I going to do?” she asked Attila, who had climbed onto her lap and was playing with the drawstring of her cut-off sweatpants. “I don’t know how to act around him anymore, and this plan of Gigi’s is a bust. Two lengthy lunches with Barbara, and Rafe’s indestructible big-brother attitude pretty much prove that.” She pulled the end of the string away from the kitten and set him on the floor. “My heart keeps telling me that we belong together, but if that isn’t going to happen, I don’t think I can stay there.” Dreading the notion of working somewhere else, but feeling it might be the only way for her to go forward with her life, Heidi got up and headed to the kitchen for the phonebook.
***
Rafe detached Heidi’s car from the tow truck and then grabbed his sledgehammer from the cab. He walked to her front steps and began swinging. By the second swing and its corresponding crunch, Heidi was standing inside the storm door looking down at him, bug-eyed. His gaze traveled the length of her, drinking in her form in her red tank top and cut-off jeans. Down, boy. This is not how a big brother thinks about his little sister. And Rafe was determined to act that way toward Heidi from now on. Things were going back to the way they were six months ago, even if it killed him. If he could just forget how damned good it had felt to have her in his arms again yesterday.
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“Joe Rafferty, what in the world do you think you’re doing?” She opened the door and stepped out onto the top step. Her hair looked damp, and she had a new white gauze bandage taped to her temple. “I’m replacing these steps. They’re a lawsuit waiting to happen.” He slid his hand up the sledge’s handle and took another swing at the bottom step. Bam! “Stop!” He did, looking up at her. “Why?” “I didn’t ask you to destroy my front steps,” she yelled, which he thought was unnecessary since he wasn’t making noise. Rafe tried to maintain eye contact and ignore the fact that Heidi’s perfect breasts were heaving with outrage. “Stop yelling,” he said. “You’ll give yourself a headache; that is, if you haven’t already.” He refocused on the project and took another swing. Bam! “Stop it!” she screamed, waving her palms at him. Then Heidi started down the steps. Rafe stopped mid-swing, fearing she’d get in harm’s way. “What makes you think you could just start ripping up my front steps?” She had lowered the volume on her voice. Probably has given herself a headache, he thought. “Heidi, it was obvious to a blind man that they needed to be replaced. Someone was bound to get hurt falling on these crumbling stairs.” Tired of the helplessness he’d been feeling, Rafe was taking the bull by the horns. He knew she’d be miffed at him for doing it without permission, but he also knew she’d never in a million years grant it. “But this wasn’t your decision to make,” she began. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I was going to start getting some quotes for having the work done,” she said, calmer now. Heidi stood a few steps above him, which put her chest at his face level. Her nipples budded against the thin knit fabric of her tank, and Rafe struggled to put the fact from his mind.
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Big brother, big brother, big brother… “Okay, I’m sorry. Now can I get back to work?” He gently nudged her back up a step. “No.” Rafe figured the shock was wearing off and the typical Heidi bull-headedness was setting in. “Since you’ve totally ruined the bottom step, I guess I’ll have to hire someone immediately. Now why don’t you and your trusty sledgehammer just go on home?” “Can’t. I’ve got a job to do here.” He took hold of her upper arms and backed her up to the top step. “But I don’t want you to. I’m perfectly capable of paying someone to do any home improvement projects that I don’t want to tackle myself.” She was getting angry again, but Rafe was determined to play it cool. After all, he owed her. It was his fault she’d been hurt on the job. He should have been the one to put away the supplies. And if he hadn’t been carrying out that idiotic plan to make her think he and Barbara were dating, he would have been. He was the one who’d deserved a heavy blow to the noggin. As a matter of fact, his sisters had suggested that exact treatment on more than one occasion over the years. “Are you even listening to me?” she asked, stirring him from his mental chastisement. “Of course I am,” he said. “Why don’t you go on inside and get started calling someone about a quote on these steps?” She nodded with a self-satisfied smile, as if the matter was settled, and turned to go inside. Rafe resumed demolition after catching himself checking out her tush, and then grinned with devilish satisfaction when Heidi growled at him in frustration and slammed the front door.
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Chapter Seven
Heidi peeked out from under the edge of her bedroom mini-blinds, not wanting Rafe to know she was watching him. After another evening of working out there without her acknowledging his presence, or even offering him so much as a glass of water, Heidi thought he would have given up. He was sweaty and filthy, and it made her mouth water just to look at him. Rafe’s white T-shirt was soaked with perspiration, making it almost transparent. His muscles rippled and clenched with every movement of his body and the dark shadow from his chest hair brought back memories she’d tried time and time again to forget. Rafe dropped his hammer on the ground by the form he was finishing and pulled the well-worn ball cap from his head. He swiped at his brow with his forearm and then pitched the cap to land next to the hammer. Before Heidi could predict what he was about to do, Rafe whipped his shirt over his head and ran the wadded-up cloth over his face, head and chest. He was obviously hot, but Heidi realized she was the one in dire need of a hosing down. She backed away from the window, careful not to let the blinds sway, and sat on the edge of the bed. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take,” she mumbled, wanting to comfort him in more ways than one. And yet, at the same time, she wanted to clock him for totally disregarding her wishes.
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“Why should I feel guilty? I told him I didn’t want him doing it. If he’s hot and thirsty, it’s his own damned fault.” The rationalization always served to fuel the fires of her determination, but every time she set eyes on Rafe, they dampened and fizzled. Things at the garage that day had been torturous. Rafe was worse than a mother hen. Heidi had found herself wishing he would leave to go to lunch with Barbara, but then the Black Widow had shown up in an outfit even more seductive than the last and made her even more depressed. Although it hadn’t seemed like Rafe had invited Barbara, the woman had brought a gourmet picnic lunch for two. Rafe had tried to include Heidi, probably so he could continue to keep a watchful eye on her, but the look on Barbara’s face had made it clear she wasn’t welcome to join them in the office. Heidi was becoming more and more convinced that leaving Rafferty’s was the only way she would be able to maintain what little pride and sanity she had left. The banging of the hammer resumed, and Heidi resisted the urge to peek back out the window. Another glimpse of a shirtless Rafe might just send her over that precarious edge. He was almost finished building the form for the new steps, after clearing away all the old concrete. Once the new concrete was poured maybe he’d be gone, and Heidi could find some peace in her own home.
***
“Hello. Rafe, isn’t it?” Rafe looked up from the Camry’s engine block to see Sean Fitzgerald walking through the open door. He wondered if the vacuum hose Heidi had replaced on his Corvette had worked its way loose. Then he noticed the bouquet of flowers Sean was carrying, and Rafe felt his hackles rise. “That’s right. Sean, right? Is there something wrong with your car?” “No, it’s in tip-top shape, thanks to Heidi. Is she around?” Sean twirled the cellophane-wrapped bouquet in his fingers.
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Rafe wanted to tell the guy no, but that wasn’t the kind of thing someone with brotherly feelings toward Heidi would do. Even though he wouldn’t pursue her romantically, he didn’t exactly want to watch someone else do it. He knew his attitude was selfish, but damn it, it was too soon after their lovemaking for him to see her with another man. “Yeah, she’s just getting something from the storeroom.” Rafe had spent half the night after her accident shoring up all the shelving units and cleaning it up. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have ever let her set foot inside it again. “She’ll be right out.” He decided not to mention the flowers. “George told me about Heidi getting hurt the other day. I take it she’s okay, since she’s back at work.” Reminding Rafe of his negligence didn’t endear Sean Fitzgerald to him at all. “I wouldn’t let her set foot in this garage if I wasn’t one-hundred-percent certain she was okay.” The widening of Sean’s eyes made Rafe aware of his threatening tone. Well, he thought, too damned bad. “Sean, what are you doing here? Is your car okay? I thought I’d taken care of the problem for you.” Both men turned toward Heidi as she walked toward Sean. Rafe didn’t like the way she stopped so close to the guy. Sean laughed. “My car’s fine.” He lifted the flowers toward her. “These are for you.” “For me?” she repeated, with what Rafe knew was genuine surprise. “George told me about your little mishap the other day.” Sean lifted his hand to touch the bandage at her right temple, and Rafe resisted the urge to rip the guy’s arm out of its socket. “I also wanted to thank you for your gift,” Sean added. Gift, what gift? “You’re welcome. I hoped you might enjoy it as much as I did,” Heidi said, smiling. She inhaled the flowers’ scent.
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Rafe struggled to make sure his expression didn’t reflect his displeasure. What did she give him? And why in the hell was she giving this guy gifts anyway? She just met him. “I am,” Sean said. “I have it in my office at the stadium. As a matter of fact, I’ve had quite a few comments about it already.” He took hold of Heidi’s elbow, glanced in Rafe’s direction and then steered her away. Rafe took the not-so-subtle hint and leaned back over the Toyota, watching the two in his peripheral vision. “Say, I know this is short notice, but would you be interested in dinner tomorrow night?” Rafe felt his blood boil with jealousy before a voice inside him piped up. Sean seems like a nice enough guy. He’s close to her age. He’s got a decent job. This is what you wanted for her. Remember? “I can’t,” Heidi said. “I’m going to a wedding tomorrow evening.” “Oh,” Sean began, sounding disappointed. “How about tonight?” Heidi said. “Uh, sure,” Sean answered. What an idiot. The guy sounded almost intimidated at her invitation. He isn’t used to a woman who knows how to speak up, Rafe thought. Probably used to dating witless airheads. Consider yourself the luckiest man on earth, you wimp. “What time should I pick you up?” Sean asked. “I guess I need to find out where you live, too.” “No problem. Why don’t I just meet you someplace?” Heidi suggested a local restaurant and time. “Okay, well, I guess I’ll see you there at seven o’clock,” Sean said. “Bye, Rafe,” he called out. Heidi walked Sean outside, leaving Rafe to listen to his own grumblings echo under the hood.
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“Okay, so he’s got a great car. And I suppose women might find him good-looking, if they’re into Ken dolls.” Rafe looked past the open hood toward the door. What was taking Heidi so damned long? “And here I thought I’d hurt her so deeply. Ha!” Maybe their lovemaking hadn’t meant as much to her as it had to him. “She didn’t waste any time getting over me. Giving some guy she just met gifts. What’s with that?” Well, she may have been able put last Friday evening behind her, but Rafe would be damned if he could without clearing the air first. He meticulously wiped his hands with his shop rag, waiting for Heidi. It was almost time to close, and he was not going to let her slip out without talking to him. Within seconds she reappeared and headed toward the restroom to change. “Heidi,” Rafe said, walking toward her. “We need to talk.” “About?” She held her head high, but still had to tilt that stubborn little chin up to look at him. “You know damned well what about. We’ve skirted the issue all week and I, for one, can’t keep doing that.” Then Rafe noticed the spark in her eyes douse. She chuckled—a sad, tired chuckle that threw him off guard. He tried to regroup. “Last Friday night, when we—” he began, but Heidi cut him off with a gentle wave of her small hand. She spoke in a hushed, haunting voice. “Do you still believe that what happened between us was a mistake?” It was the best thing to ever happen to him, but he shouldn’t have let it happen. While he would cherish the memory of their physical closeness for the rest of his life, another part of him would never forgive himself for the way it had destroyed their special friendship. “Yes.” The single word took all his might and sent a wrecking ball through his heart. Rafe didn’t think anything could ever hurt more until he saw the sadness his answer brought to her eyes.
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“Then there’s nothing more to say,” she said, patting his chest over his heart, which had only a moment ago shattered into a million pieces.
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Chapter Eight
Rafe had watched Heidi turn and leave the garage, unable to move or speak. He was hurt, bleeding inside; and her expression told him he had inflicted the same pain on her. Sacrificed the most important relationship in his life for, for what? Sex. No, he would never call what they’d shared sex. It was lovemaking. He had made love to Heidi. He was in love with Heidi. Not like a sister, damn it; like a woman, a lover, a soul mate, a critical half of a destined whole. Somewhere along the line, Heidi Callihan had become as vital to him as breath. Rafe pressed his hand to his shirtfront, remembering where her hand had rested only minutes ago. He felt something sticking out of his breast pocket and looked down to see the edge of an envelope. Had Heidi been putting it there when she patted his chest? She must have. Rafe pulled the stiff white envelope out and tore it open, reading the handwritten note.
Rafe—Please consider this note my two weeks’ notice. I owe you so very much, and you deserve better than my leaving. For that, I’m truly sorry. —Heidi
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He read the words twice again, hoping he had overlooked some postscript, a “Just kidding” or “Gotcha”, but the only other thing Rafe discovered in her words was a sense of sorrow as deep as his own. “No,” he roared as the dam of his self-control burst. Rafe reached up and yanked the door of her bay down, the jarring impact on the concrete cracking the small glass windows that spanned the top. “This has gone on long enough,” he bellowed throughout the garage and quite possibly the block. He yanked the door to his bay closed with an equal lack of finesse, flipped the lock and headed to the office. “And you thought Heidi wasn’t old enough for you. That’s a joke.” He rifled his fingers through his hair. “Who’s the one that’s been playing games? And look what they’ve gotten you?” Rafe glanced back down at the note he had crumpled in his hand, felt the hot spark of rage, then swiped the top of his desk clean—sending papers, clipboards and pens flying in all directions. The satisfaction was only marginal, and already he could feel panic swell within him. It was when the swivel chair came to rest on the garage floor outside the office window, which was now covered with rough pebbles of glass, Rafe almost laughed. Heidi wouldn’t believe he had just done that. And if he hadn’t been standing there looking at the destruction, his chest heaving and adrenaline coursing through his system, he wouldn’t have believed it either. “It’s time I stopped worrying about what I think is right and do what feels right.” Rafe located the phone, set it on the desk and dialed information. “I need a listing for Sean Fitzgerald.”
***
Hearing the familiar crunching of tires on gravel, Heidi dried her eyes with the already soaked bandana. It was Rafe’s truck. The lump in her throat dropped like a dusty boulder to her stomach. She had hoped he would accept her resignation without question,
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without her having to defend her decision face-to-face. But fate and Joe Rafferty weren’t about to let her off so easily. Was he furious? She wouldn’t blame him if he was. He had treated her as if she were a member if his own family, and how was she repaying him? By quitting. Well, it couldn’t be helped. Heidi set Attila down on the sofa next her and stood, brushing cat hairs off the front of Gigi’s black dress. She had taken a break in getting ready for her dinner date with Sean, hoping some kitten-cuddling would get her mind off how much she already missed Rafe. It hadn’t worked. She reached the front door just as he knocked. A reasonable knock. Maybe she could do this. “Rafe,” she said, opening the storm door. Heidi took a small step back from his overpowering presence in an attempt to shore up her will. He took advantage of the lapse and made his way past her into the living room. “We need to talk,” he said, turning back to face her. Heidi locked her knees and stood her ground inside the doorway, afraid her legs might give out should she try to move. “I don’t have anything else to say.” Her gaze fixed on his dusky grey eyes. “But I do.” Rafe closed the distance between them and took her hand from where she had been gripping the edge of the door. How she longed to rotate her hand a half-turn and lace her fingers with his. And never let them go. But Rafe had no such feelings. He had been doing his best to turn back the clocks and pretend that nothing had changed their relationship. “Rafe, now is not a good time.” Even as she said the words he closed the door, leaving only scant inches between them. Heidi tipped her chin up, almost dizzy from the power he held over her. Something about him seemed different, but her brain was already so close to meltdown she couldn’t identify what it was. “I have to leave to meet Sean,” she said. “I’ll see you—”
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“No, you don’t,” Rafe said, cutting her off. He was so close Heidi felt his breath stirring her bangs, and she had to close her eyes to try and comprehend. “What did you say?” “Sean won’t be there.” His eyes gave no clue as to what he had in store. But Heidi wasn’t about to stand back and wait. “And just how do you know that?” Suspicion and anger began to loosen the mental stronghold he held over her. “Because I called and told him you weren’t available after all.” “You what?” After the week she’d had, tolerance was non-existent. Filled with outrage, Heidi took a step toward the telephone, but that was as far as she got. Click. Already fuming, she looked down in shock at the handcuff Rafe had snapped around her wrist. Déjà vu. “Oh, quit your whining.” Sarcasm dripped from his voice. Heidi was uncharacteristically speechless as Rafe snapped the other cuff to his own wrist. It took a moment before her mental pistons began to fire. “Touché,” she said. “Now we’re even. Okay, Rafe, unlock me.” Although she knew she deserved it, Heidi didn’t think Rafe’s joke was a bit funny. “Oh, now that’s where you’re wrong. We aren’t close to being even.” Rafe let her stretch to the handset of the phone, then pulled it out of her hand. Dragging her in his wake, he crossed to the front door, opened it, and pitched the handset down the new concrete stairs. Heidi didn’t have to see it to know her phone was history. “You’re going to pay for a new phone,” she demanded as he closed the door and dragged her behind him to the sofa. “Okay.” He sat while she remained standing. “But first, you’re going to hear me out.” He was acting so damned casual Heidi wanted to clock him. At least she’d had enough of a conscience to feel guilty when she had locked him up. Heidi looked around for something to hit him with, but the only thing within reach was Attila, and at the moment the little traitor was rubbing his jaw against Rafe’s elbow.
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“Hey, Attila,” Rafe said, scratching the underside of the kitten’s chin like they were best buddies. If she hadn’t been in bare feet she would have kicked Rafe in the shin. “Joseph Rafferty, unlock these handcuffs right now,” she demanded. Heidi was exhausted but refused to sit next to him on the sofa. “Oooo, she called me Joseph,” he told the purring kitten. “She must really be mad.” Then Rafe looked back up at her. “What was it you told me? Oh yeah,” he said, his eyes skyward as if struggling to remember. “I can’t unlock you just yet.” He paused, presumably in order for Heidi to recall she had used those very words. “I don’t know what it is you’re trying to prove, Rafe, but I’ll tell you right now, I am not in the mood.” She drilled him with a look meant to burn his retinas. “I’m sorry to hear that, because I’ve got to admit, seeing you in that dress again has put me in the mood.” His gaze slid up Heidi’s body and then back down again, sending a sudden thrill through her. Her attraction to Rafe was a major Achilles heel, and it angered Heidi that he was using it against her. She tugged at the cuff, trying to squeeze her hand out of the loop. “That isn’t funny,” she said, trying not to hurt herself as she pulled. “I wasn’t making a joke,” Rafe said, his voice smooth and rich. “And I don’t like the idea of you wearing this dress for another man.” “What do you care?” She avoided his eyes as she continued pulling against the cuff. “Oh, I care, all right. I’ve cared for a while now,” he answered with a warm tone that tried to wrap itself around her. Heidi fought back, not daring to hope he was talking about jealousy. “Yes, I know, you care for me. Like you care for Trisha and Joanie.” “Wrong again.” He tugged her forward with his cuffed wrist until she stood between his knees. Heidi’s bare shins pressed against the front of the sofa, and the smooth chintz fabric was cool against her skin. “The way I feel about my sisters cannot be compared to the way I feel about you.” Rafe’s fingertips toyed with the edge of her short hem.
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Gulp. Heidi let her gaze slide to meet his and then looked away. Don’t let yourself get swept away by your hormones, she thought. It hurts too much afterwards. She returned her gaze to his. “You don’t want me, but you don’t want anyone else to have me either.” Heidi was pleased at the way she fueled her own fire. “And what makes you think I don’t want you?” Rafe said, sounding irritated. He wasn’t supposed to sound irritated, he was supposed to confess his obvious guilt. “Did I miss something?” she replied, her volume increasing. “Gee, where in the world could I have gotten that idea?” Heidi held her index finger to the small bandage at her temple. “Maybe from you saying, twice mind you, that what happened between us was a big, fat mistake!” “I might have said that, but I didn’t mean it,” Rafe said. He was keeping a hold on his temper. Well, that made one of them. “Oh, I’m supposed to be a mind reader, too?” she said. Rafe’s nostrils flared slightly, in either anger or frustration, but Heidi didn’t care. It couldn’t even begin to match her feelings. “No, of course not.” He paused as if measuring his words. “Do you love me?” Oh, like she was supposed to hang herself out to dry? “No.” Heidi was certain she sounded convincing, and she almost meant it. “Bull.” “Think what you like. I really don’t care.” She tried to cross her arms, but the weight of his on the other cuff prevented it. “I don’t think you would have made love to me if you didn’t love me.” Heidi hated that he was dead-on center. “Shows what you know,” she replied. “Prove it.” The childish dare from a man like Rafe caught her off guard. “What?” “Kiss me.” “I don’t want to kiss you. I want to shoot you.”
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“If you can kiss me and tell me you don’t love me, I’ll unlock the cuffs.” He had just made it a triple-dog dare. “Fine.” She bent over and pecked him on the cheek as fast as a chicken at a pile of grain. “Now unlock me and go away.” “No, I meant a real kiss. The kind of kiss you gave me last Friday.” “I wasn’t the only one doing the giving,” she said, trying to defend what little honor she had left and, at the same time, detour this discussion. “Very true,” Rafe said, without a rise of defenses. “So, what do you say? Want me to unlock the cuffs and leave?” “The sooner, the better.” “Well then, you’re going to have to sit on my lap for the kind of kiss I’m talking about,” he said, eyes sparkling. The devil was trying to stack the deck in his favor. “Or you could stand up.” “Chicken?” he taunted. Her independent nature took charge before she could recognize his ploy. Heidi was on his lap in a nanosecond. “Fine, okay, let’s get this over with.” Sitting stiff as a carjack, she puckered her lips and closed her eyes. “Hei-di,” he drew out. She lifted her shoulders in a dramatic sigh and then relaxed her lips, and before she sensed his approach, Rafe’s lips were on hers. The kiss was so light and tender, Heidi wasn’t sure whether the bargain had been met. But when his lips met hers a second time, all thought dissolved. She opened her mouth to him, and together their tongues began a slow, seductive dance. Rafe’s free hand cupped the back of her head, and she let him support her weight as she sank into his embrace. Heidi felt the growing ridge of his arousal press against her bottom, and vivid memories of their joined bodies flooded her. She had to stop this. Her plan had been to fulfill her end of the bargain, pop up off his lap and kick him out of her house. But this game had suddenly turned deadly. Her heart couldn’t withstand another beating. Heidi pulled away.
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“If you’re doing this just so I won’t quit, I’m begging you, please don’t.” Rafe’s irises were dark and stormy, and he looked as if he had to find his way back from a great distance in order to speak. “I probably deserved that,” he finally said, surprising her, “although it hurts like hell to hear you say it.” She sat up straight, afraid to let herself to find comfort in his hold. “I admit, I’ll do anything to prevent you from leaving Rafferty’s.” That was not what Heidi had wanted to hear. Unable to escape, she had to look away as Rafe continued. “But that’s not what this is about.” “Then what is it about?” she asked, not knowing how much longer she could hold it all together. “It’s about me loving you, Heidi,” Her eyes flew to his in surprise. She had to be imagining this. “Not like a sister, or a cousin, or even a close friend; but like a man loves a woman.” Heidi felt like she had crammed for history only to be handed a math test. She was absolutely speechless. His eyes said he was telling the truth, but… “Heidi?” “I don’t get it, Rafe, only a couple hours ago you said that what happened between us was a mistake.” “I did say that,” he admitted. “I’m sorry. I’ve been such an idiot, thinking I had all the answers. It wasn’t until I read your note that I figured it out.” “Figured what out?” “That I want to spend the rest of my life with you. And I hope that’s what you want, too.” What was she supposed to say? This was a total one-eighty. “Heidi?” Rafe said again. He looked into her eyes, and she could see that he bared his soul.
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“Yes?” she managed a whisper. “Will you marry me?” The tension that had tied her in knots evaporated in a heartbeat, and she melted into his arms. “Yes.” And what began as a sweet, celebratory kiss soon turned passionate. When Heidi would have turned the tables to fully plunder Rafe’s mouth, she felt a pull on her wrist. He swept her up into the air, her arm taut across her chest from the metal cuffs. “This time we’re going to do this right,” he said as he headed toward the hallway. “I may not be all that experienced, but I didn’t realize we’d done something wrong last time,” she teased. “I’m talking about the living room floor. This time I mean to make love to you in a nice, soft bed.” Heidi liked hearing him call what they were about to do making love. Rafe shouldered open her bedroom door and laid her on top of the down comforter, his hands pressing into the mattress at her sides. “I’ve spent an excruciating week trying to forget how damned good it felt to be inside you.” He lowered his head to nibble at her collarbone. “I tried to forget, too, but I couldn’t. I want to feel you inside me again, Rafe.” “There’s one more thing I need to do first,” he said, holding himself up on his knees and straddling her. “After all, you did fulfill your part of the bargain.” Rafe pulled a small key out of his jeans pocket. He was her every fantasy incarnate, towering over her, dark and sexy. Heidi boldly fingered the bulge beneath his fly with her free hand, proof-positive that this was really happening. “Jesus, Heidi,” he said, trying to steady the tiny silver key with shaking fingers. “Once these cuffs are gone you’d better watch out.” He rushed to fit the key in the lock and then dropped the handcuffs on the floor.
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“By the way, you can make me your prisoner anytime you like,” he said, pulling her over to lie on top of him, “but let’s leave handcuffs out of it.” Rafe smiled, and she felt him lowering the zipper at the back of her dress. Heidi pulled the short skirt up her thighs in order to straddle his torso. Sitting up, she slid her arms out of the armholes and let the top fall to her waist. “I like this black bra,” he said, his voice a baritone purr. “I can see your nipples through the lace.” Rafe cupped her breasts and thumbed her hardened nipples. Heidi was silent, not wanting to break the erotic trance she’d slipped into. She squeezed his shoulders and leaned into his big hands, wanting to feel them on her forever. With a quick flick, Rafe released the front clasp of her bra and pulled the lace away from her breasts. “I’ve wanted to taste you for so long,” he said. His palms eased her toward him and he drew one of her nipples into his mouth. Heidi closed her eyes, lost in the erotic sensation. When he shifted to nibble the tip of her other breast, she couldn’t help but thread her fingers through his hair and press him to her. “More. Don’t stop,” she whispered. “That feels so good.” Instinctively, Heidi began rocking her pelvis against his. As his mouth tugged at her sensitized breast, she rode him, longing for something more but incapable of anything but sentience. “Yes, yes,” she said, sensation climbing as he switched breasts again and began to toy with her moistened nipple between his thumb and fingers. The combination of his feasting on her breasts and the pulsing pressure of him against her sex drove her over the edge. Her climax was hard and powerful, leaving all previous thought of reciprocation in the dust. There was nothing but pleasure, and years of it to look forward to. “You are so beautiful.” She was returning to full consciousness. If Rafe had said anything else before that moment, she’d missed it. Heidi lay spent across his chest, wondering if it was possible to be orgasmed into a coma. And she still had her panties on.
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She took a deep breath, ran her hand over Rafe’s pecs and pushed herself back up to a sitting position. “When you said watch out, you weren’t kidding,” she said with a satisfied grin. His eyes were dark and glistening; he was ready. But Rafe’s smile told her he was willing to move at her pace. “So far, I’ve had all the fun,” she said. “Now, you couldn’t be more wrong about that,” Rafe insisted. “Well, let’s say I’ve been satisfied more than you have. But humor me a bit more. There’s something else that I want,” she said. “And what’s that?” “I want to see you totally naked.” And just to be a tease, Heidi ran the tip of her tongue along her top lip. “Hot damn, Heidi,” he replied, “Any more requests like that and you’re gonna find yourself flat on your back.” Heidi slid over onto the bed. “I hope so.” Rafe sat up and whipped his T-shirt over his head. Memories of his chest hadn’t done the real thing justice. She reached out, but he rolled off the mattress, evading her searching fingers. Her eyes were fixed on his groin as he unzipped his fly. When he shucked his jeans and briefs and joined her on the bed, she sought him out with her hands. This time, however, her quarry was slightly lower on his anatomy. As she grasped his erection, Rafe growled in pleasure. “Ahhh, yeah.” Heidi was thrilled by his sighs and encouraged enough to continue her adventurous foreplay. She slid her fist down the length of his shaft, filled with awe at the warm softness encasing hot steel. A wordless moan signaled his satisfaction, and Heidi continued to stroke him. She trailed kisses across the breadth of his chest and then followed the pattern of dark hair tapering down over his abs. And then, wanting to gift him with as much pleasure as she had received, Heidi softly kissed the head of his penis.
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“I’m afraid that’s going to have to wait for later,” Rafe said as he shifted away and flipped her onto her back. “I’m too close right now, and don’t want to take this trip all by myself.” In seconds he had her naked, dropping her dress and panties on the floor and reaching for his wallet. Rafe rolled on a condom and positioned himself between her already parted thighs. “I love to touch you here,” he said, stroking her sex. Rafe circled her clitoris, massaging her with her own wet heat. Heidi arched her back, surprised that she could be so aroused again. “I want you inside me,” she gasped, and was soon rewarded when she felt the tip of his penis glide over her. “You’re so tight,” he said as he slowly entered and then groaned in satisfaction. “It’s like you were made just to pleasure me.” “And you were made for me.” Heidi ran the pads of her fingers back and forth over his back, finding satisfaction in each thrust, retreat, thrust, retreat. “Wrap your legs around my waist,” he whispered between kisses. She did and felt him drive even deeper. Then faster. Heidi kept pace with him, speeding, racing, breathing, higher and higher, until together, they rocketed to a climax that surpassed all their wildest dreams.
***
“What exactly did you say to Sean?” Heidi asked him later. She was resting her head on Rafe’s biceps and twirling her fingertip in a swirl of hair on his heart. “I told him you were marrying me,” Rafe said. Heidi’s head popped up to check his expression. “You didn’t.” “Well, not in so many words, but it was implied.” He quickly changed the subject. “Are you reconsidering? I know my lifestyle isn’t all that exciting.”
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She hadn’t intended to let him off the hook so easily. She’d thought to make him sweat a little about being so presumptuous but, when she heard this, Heidi decided to pursue the topic. “As opposed to my lifestyle?” “Well, yeah,” he said. “You’re always telling me about this wild thing Gigi did or some new club, or—” “Yeah, but that’s Gigi. She’s the one having the wild adventures.” “I assumed you were talking about both of you,” he said, propping himself up on an elbow to face her. “No, way. Think about it. Why would I have gotten Attila if I was never going to be home?” Heidi couldn’t believe he’d had such a misconception about her personal life. Maybe his assumption stemmed from the fact that he’d never had time for fun in his young adulthood. He probably thought she was doing all the things he’d never had a chance to. “I don’t want to make it sound like I never go out,” she explained, “but a typical night for me is renting a movie and cracking open a pint of Ben and Jerry’s.” Rafe dropped his chin, shook his head and chuckled. “God, for a guy who thought he had all the answers, I didn’t know much.” “Speaking of having all the answers,” she said smiling, “now that we have a new understanding, you’re going to have to cool it with the I-know-what’s-best-for-you attitude.” His brow crinkled, and Heidi plowed on before he could speak. “Like demolishing my front steps.” “They needed to be replaced,” he mumbled in a weak defense. “But it should have been my call.” Heidi issued him credit for the sheepish expression on his face. “Okay, but it was the only way I could think of to keep an eye on you.” “That’s just it,” she said, poking a finger in his chest. “You didn’t need to keep an eye on me.” She had to make him understand. “Sorry. But don’t most women like having a man take care of them?”
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It was obvious to Heidi he was getting frustrated. Time to change her tack or one of them would end up saying something stupid. “Rafe, just listen to me for a minute. You’ve taken care of your mother and sisters for years, and for the first time you’re on your own.” His lips parted as if he was going to respond, but Heidi gently laid her fingers across them. “Please,” she said, “hear me out.” He nodded, and she shifted her hand to stroke the stubble on his cheek. “I had more responsibility heaped on me at an early age than any kid should. When my mom took off, it was sink or swim, and although Harmon was here, I basically ran this place. Do you understand what I’m saying? I’m used to making my own decisions. That’s not why I need you in my life.” She waited, hoping Rafe understood her need to be a full partner in their relationship. “Okay, I hear what you’re saying, and I agree,” he said. So far, so good. Neither of us is yelling, she thought. “Now hear me out. Until a few weeks ago, I’d always felt responsible for others. That’s made me the kind of person I am. But understand—I’m not confusing my love for you with a protective nature. I’m not looking for someone who’ll defer all decisions to me. If I was, we’d be in serious trouble.” He gave her a knowing grin. “Then again, I will always look out for those I love,” he continued, sliding his hand down her arm and linking fingers. “I can’t promise that I won’t try to protect you. Just bear with me, know that it’s coming from my love for you.” Heidi smiled, liking that reasoning. She may have to call him to carpet now and again, but she knew their love was worth any compromising that might come up. Rafe continued, his warm tone wrapping around her heart. “Someday I may make a decision you don’t agree with. But don’t get angry. Call me on it.” “Like telling my date I’m getting married?” she interrupted, unable to resist. “Or borrowing handcuffs and locking someone to a sofa?” he added, with just the right combination of sarcasm and teasing. Heidi’s smugness dissolved and she sheepishly nibbled her bottom lip. “I guess I’m guilty of doing it, too, huh?”
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Rafe pulled her back into his arms and began stroking her bottom. “Yes,” he said, nibbling her neck, “but if you marry me, I promise not to hold it against you.” He reached between her legs to where she was already burning for him again. Heidi smiled even as she felt his erection against her thigh. “You’re already breaking that promise,” she replied, feeling him adjust his lower body to press against her mound. Then Heidi sighed in ecstasy as he quickly sheathed himself and entered her. “And that’s the one vow I hope you’ll to continue to break, for the rest of our lives.”
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About the Author
Janie Mason was born and raised in Central Ohio. Although they weren’t high school sweethearts, she married a hometown boy. She and her husband have two teenage children and live in Columbus. Janie is a member of Central Ohio Fiction Writers and wishes to thank her fellow COFW authors for sharing their knowledge of writing and their passion for good romances. To learn more about Janie Mason, please visit www.janiemason.com.
They told themselves it was only for a month…
A Month From Miami © 2008 Barbara Meyers Perrish, Florida was supposed to be just an eye-blink for Kaylee Walsh on her way to a glamorous new life in Miami-minus her sleazy ex-boyfriend. She’s not about to let a little car trouble or an empty wallet throw a monkey wrench into her plans. Not even when there’s a handsome mechanic on the other end of that wrench. Rick Braddock knows better than to give a second glance to a woman with big-city dreams. But getting Kaylee back on the road means car repairs she can’t afford. So he offers a trade. His services for hers. As a babysitter and housekeeper, that is. They tell themselves it’s only for a month. But as they settle into comfortably domestic days and intensely intimate nights, Rick realizes what a treasure he’s discovered in Kaylee. And for Kaylee, the lure of Miami is losing its shine. Then Rick discovers a fortune in stolen gems hidden in her gas tank. Is Kaylee the woman he thought she was—or is she taking him for a ride?
Enjoy the following excerpt for A Month From Miami Rick’s gaze clashed with Kaylee’s once again as they held hands across the table during Molly’s pre-dinner blessing. His hand, where it held hers, felt unnaturally warmed, like an electrical charge was transmitting itself from her fingertips to his. The scent of hot food rose up from the meat and potato dish and the bowl of onions and green beans to tickle his nostrils. By the time Molly finished thanking God for apples, lemons, green beans and potatoes, Rick’s mouth was watering. His stomach growled, his lunchtime sandwich a distant memory. Kaylee had also emptied a can of peaches into a bowl and sprinkled them with cinnamon. Apparently Molly had informed her that she did not share her father’s love of green beans. He took generous helpings from every bowl on the table, including two slices of bread which he topped with margarine. He concentrated on his meal, vaguely wondering
why he was so hungry and why everything tasted so good. Probably because he didn’t have to cook it himself. He had the same feeling when his parents arrived for their semiannual visits and his mother took over the cooking for a week. He spooned up the last bite of meat and potatoes from his plate and reached for the bowl. “This is good,” he told Kaylee, sliding a glance in her direction. “Daddy, you’re not supposed to talk with your mouth full.” Molly crossed her arms and frowned at him, her delicate brows furrowing in disapproval. “Well, excuuuuse me,” Rick drawled in a semi-imitation of the comedian, Steve Martin. He poked her in the ribs. “You must be a bad influence on me.” Molly giggled and uncrossed her arms. “What’s a bad influence?” She speared a peach slice and popped it in her mouth. Rick’s gaze flickered in Kaylee’s direction. “Somebody who makes you do things you know you shouldn’t do,” he answered. Or someone who makes you feel things you’d rather not feel? his subconscious asked. Rick cleared his throat and gazed down at the enormous second helping he’d piled on his plate without realizing it. Somehow the small mountain of food echoed his sentiments about Kaylee. As if he’d taken on more than he could handle. Absently, he picked up his fork and dug in. He’d met her yesterday, he scolded himself. How was it she’d gotten under his skin in less than twenty-four hours? Could it have something to do with seeing her sprawled on the floor in her pajamas last night? Or being squeezed into such close proximity with her in the bathroom? Holding her injured foot in his hand? Or maybe it was the way she’d wandered into the kitchen this morning in her brilliant fuchsia robe with sleepy eyes and rumpled hair. Rick jabbed at the chunks of ground beef and potato, shoving them into his mouth and chewing, his agitation threatening to get the better of him. “Daddy?” Molly patted his arm insistently. “Daddy!” Rick jerked himself out of his wandering thoughts and looked at his daughter. “What?” “I said can I be ’scused?” Rick’s glance automatically went to Molly’s plate, which for once, was clean.
“Yes. And it’s ‘can I be excused’.” “Well, excuuuuse me,” Molly said with a giggle, darting out of reach when Rick tried to playfully swat her behind as she passed by with her empty plate. His grin faded as he caught Kaylee watching him from across the table, her chin propped in her hand, her empty plate pushed to one side. Molly skipped into the living room and turned on the television. Vaguely Rick wondered what children had done for after-dinner entertainment before the Cartoon Network and Nickelodeon came along. He sat back from the table. “What?” he demanded of Kaylee. He seemed to have startled her out of her own thoughts. “Hmm?” Kaylee shook her head which sent the tendrils of curling hair around her ears and temples flying. “Nothing. Sorry.” She stood and began clearing the table. Rick stood as well. He put his hand on her arm, then dropped it quickly as that same surge of warmth leaped from her skin to his. “I didn’t expect you to cook and clean house, too. I’m sorry if I didn’t make that clear.” Kaylee straightened. She was so close. Rick could count the few freckles sprinkled across her nose and the tops of her cheeks. He noticed two of her bottom teeth overlapped slightly. She had small, delicately shaped ears that hugged her head and sported a tiny blue earring in each lobe. “It’s okay. I don’t mind. Molly likes to help. All I did was clean the kitchen. Oh, and the bathroom. Not that the bathroom wasn’t clean before. Or the kitchen, either. I didn’t mean that. You had a package of ground beef in the freezer. Molly showed me where the potatoes and onions were. And she told me you like green beans…” Rick’s gaze seemed to be transfixed on Kaylee’s mouth as she spoke. The full, softlooking lips, slightly smudged with the remnants of mocha lipstick. He hadn’t processed a word she’d said. Something about clean bathrooms and green beans. He leaned in closer, a part of him wondering what in the hell he was doing. Another part not caring at all. Beep! Beep! Beep!
Was it some kind of internal alarm system, Rick wondered. Warning him away from Kaylee Walsh? Beep! Beep! Beep! Kaylee took a deep breath and stepped back as Molly raced by and slid to a stop in front of the oven. Beep! Beep! Beep! went the oven timer insistently. Kaylee crossed to the stove and turned it off. “It’s done! It’s done!” Molly jumped up and down in excitement. “Stand back,” Kaylee warned. “The oven’s hot. You don’t want to get burned.” Kaylee opened the oven door releasing the strong aroma of apples and cinnamon which had hung only faintly in the air before. Using a pair of pot holders, she lifted the baking pan out of the oven and closed the door. “Mmm.” Molly sidled up close to her. “It smells good.” “We’ll let it cool for a little bit and then—” “And then we put vanilla ice cream on it. And it’s all melty and warm. Just like you said, right?” Kaylee touched the tip of Molly’s nose with her forefinger. “Right.” Molly giggled and scooted back to the living room and the television. Rick shooed a snuffling Brutus into the other room and started to clear the table, Kaylee’s warning to Molly reverberating through his head. Stand back. You don’t want to get burned. Had he, he wondered, been saved by the bell?
Will one night in Sin City equal a lifetime of regret?
Nothing Stays in Vegas © 2008 Moira McTark On his way to be best man at his friend’s wedding, Caleb Daniels has high hopes that his run of bad relationships has come to an end. He can’t wait to lay eyes—and hands— on the funny and intelligent maid of honor. They’ve never met, but she’s been charming him for weeks over the internet. At first Lara Sinclair’s cyberspace chats with Cal centered around the preparations for her sister’s extravagant wedding, but it quickly blossomed into an intense online affair. Now she’s more than ready to meet him face to face, and have his fingers stroke more than just the keyboard. But before she can even say hello to the sexy groomsman, her trouble-come-hither, look-alike sister bursts her bubble with a bona-fide, happily-every-after emergency. And Lara finds herself faced with a heartbreaking choice. Let her sister solve her own problems, or risk her budding relationship with Cal to help save the wedding—by pretending to be someone she’s not. Warning, this title contains the following: explicit sex, graphic language, mistaken identities, hot sex in a boathouse, and proof that what happens in Vegas doesn’t always stay in Vegas!
Enjoy the following excerpt for Nothing Stays in Vegas: From her vantage point, Lara could see the men collecting their bags, laughing, exchanging jokes. Nice looking bunch—even the airport shuttle driver, who caught sight of her at the window and winked before circling around to the back of the van. But no one’s looks alone screamed “I’m Cal!” Then a last pair of legs beneath the trunk caught her eye. Thick fingers reached over the edge and swung the trunk closed, revealing a smiling, chiseled face that made her heart skip a beat. Lara swallowed and sucked her bottom lip between her teeth. Please let this be my best man.
Hunk didn’t begin to cover it. He was taller than the other men by several inches, and the fit of his khakis and long sleeved T-shirt suggested an athlete’s build. Wide shoulders, defined pecs and a back that flexed with enough definition to show through the taut fabric of his shirt when he threw the strap of his bag over his shoulder. Well-formed was an understatement. Disheveled was an understatement for that matter. The spray of thick sandy hair shooting out in all directions had an authentic quality about it. That tousled look was pure cowlick and pure sexy. Only a man could mistake it for “horrible”. The bedroom door jerked open behind them. “Oh my God, Lara, I need you. Bitty, leave!” Lara spun around to see her sister, Claudette, white as a sheet, backed against the wall. Her arms outstretched like she was trying to hang onto the ivory and sage wallpaper to keep herself from falling. Dette tended toward the melodramatic, but the frantic expression plastered across her face had Lara at her side in a second. “What’s the matter?” she asked, rubbing her sister’s arms. Dette’s eyes were wide, her face flushed. “Do you love me?” Oh no. Bitty walked over, hands on her hips and jutted out her chin. “What’s the matter now?” “Bitty, I’m serious. Leave, I need to talk to my sister, in private.” Their cousin huffed. “Just say no, Lara. Whatever it is.” Grabbing the bin of boxed almonds, she walked out. When the door closed, Dette’s gaze fixed on the ceiling, tears already pooling at the corners of her eyes. “This is serious.” Lara’s gut tensed, her face hardened. Damn, she’d only been here for two days, this couldn’t be happening already. “Just tell me what happened, what you need me to do.” “Say you were in Vegas one month ago. No one will know you weren’t.” Dette talked and Lara listened, the sinking feeling in her stomach increasing as the story unfolded. “One of the groomsmen?” Lara shrieked.
“This is a bona fide happily-ever-after emergency! I know it’s bad, don’t give me crap right now.” “Happily every after? Dette, fairy tale romance doesn’t include the bride-to-be running off to screw one of her attendants a month before the wedding!” “I didn’t know he was a groomsman!” Dette hissed, her arms, straight at her sides, ending in balled fists of frustration. “He said his name was Kenneth or something…but I just saw him outside, so he must have been lying,” Dette never ceased to amaze her. “The fact that you didn’t know who he was really isn’t the point. You slept with someone other than Adam!” “Damn it, haven’t you ever heard of cold feet?” “Are you kidding me? You went to Vegas, picked up a stranger, had sex, and now you want me to pretend that I did it so you don’t get caught?” Dette glared at her. “Sort of.” “Four weeks ago!” Lara took a breath and softened. “What are you going to say to Adam? You have to tell him.” “Like hell I do.” “I can’t lie for you when it comes to a marriage. I can’t cover this up for you.” “Can’t, can’t, can’t,” Dette shot back, her eyes brimming with tears. “Can’t you stop judging me for once in your flawless life? Not everyone is as perfect as you.” Lara wanted to laugh, only it wasn’t funny. Dette’s eyes darted around the room, finally settling back on Lara. “I didn’t want anyone to know this, but Adam broke off the engagement, dumped me. He was the one with cold feet. I was brokenhearted. I ran off to Vegas, wanting to get away from everything. I drank way too much. Woke the next morning with a blinding headache, a man in my bed, and no memory of how he got there.” Lara stared at her with more than a little skepticism. There was one way to get a straight answer. “Oh my God. Maybe he drugged you.” Lara gripped her sister’s wrists, daring her with her eyes. “I’m calling the police.” “No, no…fine,” Dette shook off Lara’s hold. “I remember taking him back to my room, but I was drunk and stupid. I should have known Adam would get over his
wedding jitters and be calling to apologize the next day, but I was so self-destructive, self-defeating, maybe I just didn’t believe I deserved to be happy.” Gripping her sister’s shoulders, she stared into her eyes. “I would give anything to take it back, do anything to change it, but I can’t.” Lara held her breath for a count, memories of Dette’s tear-streaked pleas for help all running together in her mind. The rash choices, the uncontrolled outbursts…the sorrowful eyes filled with regret. Dette had such a hot head. She acted before she thought, and it always seemed to come back to haunt her. Almost like she was still trying to get caught. “Adam broke up with you?” “For two days. Neither of us told anyone.” “Maybe if you explained what happened, he’d understand.” “Are you crazy?” Dette squeaked. “He would never forgive me, never get over it. What if this guy walks in and announces to everyone what happened? The wedding would be off. I didn’t tell Adam before and I’m not going to now. This is my life,” she pleaded. “I just want to be happy like everyone else is. I need your help, but if, now, when I need it more than ever, you are going to leave me to twist in the wind, then fine. I guess my most desperate hour is even more hopeless than I thought. I’ve been abandoned by my own sister.” She sniffed, a single shiny tear drifted down her cheek. “My best friend.” Shaking her head slowly, Lara studied her. For all Dette’s accomplishments, grace and glamour, she believed she never got a fair shake, that everyone else had it easier. She needed to grow up, but at twenty-eight years old and days before her wedding, Lara didn’t want to be responsible for teaching her that lesson. And if Adam really broke it off, then what happened over those two days was none of his business. Lara closed her eyes and exhaled through her nose. “We might look alike, but how are you going to get past the names?” “Give me some credit, I crossed the country to make sure no one recognized me, of course I didn’t use my real name. Contrary to the way you treat me, I’m not stupid.” Of course.
“Okay, what do I need to do?” Dette yanked her down the hall into her peaches and cream bedroom, stuffing Lara into the seat in front of the mirrored vanity they’d been playing dress-up at since they were girls. It charmed Lara that her sister, who always needed to have the newest and hottest of everything, left her bedroom exactly the way it was from her childhood fantasies. Glass-front cabinets held row upon row of pristine china faced dolls in silk dresses, miniature porcelain horses, and a collection of ballerina jewelry boxes. Her attachment to her girlhood treasures was one of the sweeter things about Dette. A silver-backed brush began to rip through Lara’s hair with determined pulls. “I slept with him one time in Vegas. He was blasted, coming off some break-up of his own. He might not even remember but, if he does, he’s going to remember that it was you. I’m going to fix you up because, when your hair and face are done right, you look more like me than I do.” Lara’s jaw set and her eyes closed. She just needed to take this one hit for Dette. If this Vegas guy thought he recognized her, she’d avoid him. She’d be with Cal most of the time anyway, she just needed to make sure Dette’s mishap didn’t get in the way of what they’d started. Why did Dette always have to go for the sleaze—Adam excluded, she assumed without really wanting to know—why couldn’t she be attracted to the decent guys like Cal? What kind of a creepy pig would pick someone up like that? The one-night stand was gross enough as it was, but to lie about his name on top of it? Who did that kind of thing? Breathing through her nose, she stopped. Dette did.
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