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  She pursed her pretty lips. “That’s an immature challenge.”

  Yeah, it was. “You gonna take me up on it or not?” He held his breath, wondering how much of the kid she’d been was still inside her. They’d grown up together, and sometimes, those urges didn’t completely dissipate. Man, they’d had fun falling in love. That time was the best in his life, without question. “Well, Peaches? Are you scared?”

  Temptation glimmered in her intelligent eyes. Yeah. She was tempted. “You’re a moron,” she whispered.

  That was not a no. Wasn’t a yes, either. But definitely not a denial. “Come on. Don’t you want to see if it’s the same between us? Out of curiosity, if nothing else?” He couldn’t make the first move—it had to be hers. But he could tempt her from across the room.

  “I am curious,” she murmured.

  His body went from interested to full-on aroused in a flash. “What are you going to do about it?” His voice had gone hoarse.

  Keeping his gaze, she slowly glided from her bed and moved to his.

  Holy hell, this was not happening. He began to move.

  “No.” She held up a hand. “You stay right under the covers—all of you.”

  He held still, watching her while his entire body fought to jump up and grab her. “No problem.”

  Her smile was one of a siren—dangerous and thrilling. Placing a knee on his bed, she shifted over until she straddled him, her knees on either side of his waist. She looked like an avenging angel bent on destruction. “Am I hurting you?”

  Oh, she was killing him. “My ribs are fine,” he rumbled, not feeling anything but the ache in his groin. For her.

  “Good.” She set her hands on either side of his head and leaned down, her hair falling over his shoulder. The scent of wild lilacs wafted from her.

  “You’re playing with fire, baby,” he whispered, knowing he was the one who had challenged her. Maybe challenged both of them.

  Her tongue flicked out to lick her pink bottom lip. “I’ve always liked fire, and you know that.” Her movements were too slow, but she finally lowered her head more, that lip brushing his. “Maybe I’ll make you forget every other woman in existence.”

  “You already have,” he said, his lips moving against hers.

  Her sharp intake of breath nearly did him in. Instead, he drew on every ounce of training to remain still.

  “Well?” It was shocking his voice remained level, albeit rough.

  “Okay,” she whispered, her lips finally curving against his in a seeking kiss. Tentative, intriguing, soft, she kissed him. Shocking desire spiraled through his entire body. Murmuring, deepening the kiss, she pressed down on his aching cock, awakening him from a sleep he hadn’t realized he was in.

  Then she lifted her head, just slightly, a pleased smile curving her mouth. Oh, she knew exactly what she was doing. “That was nice.”

  Nice? Oh, hell no. “My turn.” When she didn’t object, he lifted one hand and slid it through her curly hair, taking his time to enjoy the soft texture, the pure pleasure of finally touching her again. Then he pulled her down, his other hand cupping the side of her jaw. She drew in her breath, and he kissed her.

  Full and deep, he took control, holding her tight and delving into heaven. A moan whispered up from her chest, filling him, prodding him on. He released her jaw to run one hand down her side, gripping her hip and settling her against his aching cock.

  She gasped and rubbed herself over him, returning his kiss with an urgency he’d forgotten. So wild and free.

  Finally, she wrenched her mouth away, gasping for breath, her body all but vibrating against him.

  Out of instinct, he rubbed her lower back, trying to ease her. “It’s okay, Peaches.” Was that his voice? It sounded like he had eaten a bucket of broken glass. “Take a deep breath.”

  She did so, perched on top of him, her hardened nipples pressed against her T-shirt. “I’m not ready for this.”

  Damn it.

  “Not again.” She moved to get off him, and he let her, staying quiet until she’d settled back into her own bed.

  His entire body hurt like he’d been run through a wood chipper. He turned toward her. “I’m home for good this time, Michelle. You’ll see.”

  She didn’t answer.

  He cleared his throat. The only way he could get through the night was to go for a run—a long one. He moved from the bed. “I need to jog. Nobody knows you’re here, but I’m leaving my gun, just in case.” He moved for his bag and running shoes.

  “I’m sorry, Evan,” she whispered.

  He turned to face her, his chest settling. “I’m not.” He was a marine, and he could handle any campaign. Even one for the stubborn artist who still held his heart. “This is just the beginning, baby. Trust me.”

  Chapter Seven

  An unfulfilled ache bothered Michelle for the entire drive north, but she still enjoyed watching the city turn to farmland, forest, and wilderness for the next several hours. As the rain disappeared and the sun began to shine down, highlighting roaming cows in pastures, her muscles began to loosen. Why in the world had she kissed Evan the night before?

  Curiosity, maybe. Perhaps to show them both that she could. If anything, Evan was a better kisser than he’d been before, all man now. Yeah, she’d forgotten about not only Mike but every other man when kissing Evan. She and Mike had just started dating and there was no commitment yet, but she still wasn’t comfortable dating more than one person at a time. It just wasn’t her.

  Could she take the risk with Evan again? Plus, she’d always felt like she’d let him down, even though he’d told her to move on. Maybe it was because she never had truly moved on.

  She was older and stronger now. Maybe she could take a second chance with him, even knowing that he might not return from a mission. He’d been right the other night. No matter what, Miss A would always be there for them, and so would the other kids they’d bonded with in her home. That was family. If something happened to Evan, she would still have family.

  Evan drove along the country road, and soon houses and then small businesses lined the way. It was approaching dinnertime, and her stomach complained. She perked up as they crossed under an archway of what looked like deer antlers.

  “Welcome to Doe City,” he said, turning right and heading down what appeared to be Main Street as he rolled down his window.

  Quaint little shops lined the way, some built of brick and others of painted wood. Several folks on the street waved as they passed, and he waved back. He pulled into the parking area of a larger brick building. “Do you mind if we pop by the office?”

  “Um, no. That’s fine.” Had she fallen down the rabbit hole, or what? “You’re the sheriff in Doe City.”

  “Yep.” He got out of the truck and stretched his back as she took her time jumping out and walking around to him.

  There was no way Evan Boldon could be content in this sleepy town. Almost in a daze, she let him take her hand and lead her up the steps and through the front door to a comfortable waiting room facing a long reception desk manned by one older woman.

  In a nanosecond, the woman’s gaze dropped to their joined hands, her smile widened, and she stood with her hand extended over the desk. “Well, hello. You must be Michelle.”

  Michelle stumbled but moved forward to shake hands. “Um, yes. Hi?”

  “I’m Verna Templeton, the station manager. It’s a nice way of saying receptionist, and the title came with a handy raise.” She pumped Michelle’s hand, her purple eyeshadow a shade lighter than her bright shirt. Streaks of matching purple threaded through her thick gray hair, complementing her purple lipstick. She had to be in her early seventies, but she had a nice firm grip despite her small hand. “The sheriff said he had to help a friend named Michelle, but it’s nice to see you holding hands.”

  Evan sighed from behind her. “I don’t suppose we could keep this between us, just for a few days?”

  “Days?” Delight filled the older wo
man’s brown eyes. “Of course, Sheriff. My lips are sealed.” She eyed the cell phone on the desk.

  “Right.” Evan reclaimed Michelle’s hand and tugged her through a doorway. “I do like the purple theme, though,” he called back.

  “Next week is green,” Verna yelled.

  “She’s nice,” Michelle mumbled, trying to get a grip on reality.

  Evan snorted. “Listen. We have about ten minutes to check in and get out of here before people start descending on the station. I’m sure Verna is already calling folks.”

  It was that big a deal that the sheriff was holding her hand? She tugged it free and tucked her hand in her pocket as they passed two offices and then entered a much larger one with a view of a creek out back. Papers covered the desk and were tacked to a board on the wall, and the entire space smelled like Evan.

  “Hey, boss.” A portly man with gray hair and a thick beard strolled their way, wearing a brown sheriff ’s uniform.

  “Hi,” Evan said. “Michelle Peach, meet Deputy Francis O’Donnell.”

  “Call me Frankie,” the deputy said, holding out a hand to shake. He glanced back down the hallway. “You have about eight minutes, you know.”

  “I know,” Evan said. “Anything interesting going on?”

  Frankie tucked his thumbs in his wide belt. “I delivered a baby yesterday on the side of McKlerny Road.”

  Evan grinned. “Melissa Jordan had her baby? I chose girl in the drawing.”

  “Nope. Was a boy,” Frankie said, smacking his lips. “I chose boy and the correct date. So, drinks are on me.”

  “Where am I?” Michelle murmured.

  Evan chuckled. “Let’s get you home, Peaches. Frank? Call me if you need me.”

  “Sure thing, Sheriff.” Frank looked at his watch. “Five minutes.”

  Evan grabbed Michelle’s hand. “Back door. Let’s make a run for it.”

  Who was this man? Michelle stumbled behind him, trying to reconcile this new Evan with the wild kid and then determined marine she’d known long ago. This guy seemed to fit here.

  She’d have to take a look around his apartment and see just how settled he’d become. Was he doing this for her? If so, was she holding him back? They emerged into the parking lot. “This life? Is it what you want?” she asked.

  He lifted her into the truck and ran around to the other side. “I’m here, aren’t I?” He drove away from the station quickly, heading toward the other side of town. “I always wanted to settle down someday, and now that I can, I like it here.” He waved at a couple of kids playing catch on a front lawn. “One of my teammates is from here; we visited once, and I liked it. He’s still deployed.”

  She didn’t want to sound self-involved, but she had to ask. “Is this for me? You said you were going to track me down. You didn’t give up your life, the one you loved, for me, did you?”

  He glanced her way, his eyes bluer than any sky she’d ever seen. “You’d be worth it, Peaches. But I want this, too.”

  Was he telling the truth? She wasn’t sure.

  * * *

  Evan was known for having nerves of steel, but now, his palms were almost sweating. Not quite, but close enough. Would Michelle like his place? He drove out of town through forests filled with pine, tamarack, and spruce, by a windy river, and finally down the newly paved road to his cabin.

  Michelle stilled. “You live here?”

  “Yeah.” He couldn’t help the pride in his voice. The hand-sawed log cabin sprawled along a curve in the river with stunning views of mountains on three sides. “There are four bedrooms, five bathrooms, a couple of living areas, a couple of offices, and a wide porch out back.” He looked over at her. “One of the offices faces the west with big windows. It’d be perfect for a studio.”

  She paled.

  Ah, crap. He’d pushed too hard. “I bought the land and had the house built because I wanted it, Michelle. This is exactly what I want, even if you and I go our separate ways for good.” Of course, his perfect picture, when he’d allowed himself to dream, had included her. He had to go slow here.

  She gulped and stepped from the truck, waiting until he crossed around to her. “How could you afford this?”

  He chuckled. “One of the guys in my unit is a financial wizard. I gave him most of every paycheck I had, and he invested wisely. Very.”

  Apparently. This had to be a dream. She followed him up the long stone path, across a wide porch, and into a comfortable-looking living room with floor-to-ceiling windows facing a stunning view of the river. The sofas in front of the stone fireplace held colorful pillows.

  Wait a minute. “You said you weren’t dating anybody.” Something hurt inside Michelle. Deep.

  He frowned. “I’m not. Why?”

  She breathed in and out, not having a good reason to be upset but struggling anyway. “There is no way you decorated this. You wear the same color clothes so you don’t have to match anything.”

  Evan winced. “It’s that obvious?”

  “Yes.” Her stomach settled.

  His ears turned a little red. “Fine. Verna helped me with the decorating.” Evan shut the door behind them. “There are splotches of color everywhere, but I think it works. Maybe. Not sure.”

  Oh. Of course. The colors were all over the place, just like Verna, but the scheme worked. Definitely. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “You don’t have to say anything,” Evan said. “How about I grill some steaks, and we can eat out on the deck? Maybe come up with a game plan on how to find Jayleen?” He led her into a sparkling kitchen with dark granite countertops. “Do me a favor and get out stuff for a salad, would you?”

  She moved as if in a dream, grateful for the distraction. Evan Boldon was eating salad? Like salad, salad? What universe had she dropped into? Darkness began to fall as she mixed the lettuce with other veggies and he grilled steaks. They ate quietly on the peaceful deck, and even though she was still worried about Jayleen, she couldn’t help but relax a little bit. “Your home is lovely, Evan.”

  He glanced up from his steak and smiled, looking like the carefree kid he’d once been. “Thanks.”

  This felt good. Too good? She set her napkin aside and decided to enjoy the moment. Why not? She grasped her wineglass, swirled the rich cabernet around and watched it glimmer. Her first glass had already warmed her, and this second one was finally relaxing her completely. “Thanks for dinner.”

  “Sure.” His smile froze and he turned his head slowly, scanning the trees by the river.

  “What?” She couldn’t see anything but darkness and trees, but her heartbeat quickened in response to his expression. She set down the glass.

  He grasped his steak knife, twisted it around in front of his chest, and stood, facing the trees. “Get inside. Now.”

  “Gun beats knife.” A gigantic man, tight with muscle and wearing a leather jacket, strode out of the trees with a gun in his hand and a dog at his side. He had short hair, a faded scar from his temple to his jaw, and topaz brown eyes.

  The German shepherd kept his gaze on Evan’s knife and moved with strength and purpose, the fur on his back standing up as if he was just waiting for the command to strike.

  Evan gestured her behind him. “Start backing up, and I’ll cover you,” he hissed.

  The dog barked once.

  Michelle stood, her lungs seizing, and moved backward toward the sliding glass door.

  Then a white kitten popped his head out of the man’s jacket pocket, one damaged ear flicking back and forth as his pretty eyes blinked sleepily.

  Michelle composed herself. The man had a kitten in his pocket?

  The guy sighed. “Kat, dude. You totally take the fierce out of my entrance.” He tucked the gun in the back of his waist and leaned to the side to better see Michelle beyond Evan. “You Michelle?”

  She nodded, a lump in her throat.

  “You okay? Not harmed?” he asked.

  Energy vibrated off Evan, and his stance didn’t relax
. “Who the hell are you?”

  The guy’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Oh, sorry. Forgot that part. I’m Clarence Wolfe. Call me Wolfe. Not Clarence. Don’t like that.” He stroked the dog’s head. “This is Roscoe, and Kat is in my pocket. Not because I make him but because that’s where he likes to be.” Wolfe looked down at the kitten. “Of course, there are goldfish in there, so that might be why.” He looked up. “Crackers not bait.”

  Evan’s muscles bunched. “Inside, Michelle. Now.”

  “Wait a minute. Wolfe from Raider’s unit?” she asked, stepping to the side. Raider had mentioned the man but not the nuttiness.

  “That’s me,” Wolfe said cheerfully. “Raider sent me to your place and I saw the damaged door, so I hustled up here to make sure Evan was okay. I was hoping you’d be here, too. I can’t take Raider off his case, so I haven’t called him yet. If you weren’t here, I was gonna, though.”

  Evan relaxed slightly. “Call off your dog.”

  Wolfe’s expression cleared. “Oh yeah. Roscoe, at ease.”

  The dog sat and cocked his head. Man, he was beautiful, his markings perfect. His gaze scanned the deck and then stopped on the table.

  “No!” Wolfe grabbed for him, but Roscoe was too fast. He leaped over the edge of the deck, right over a rose bush, and landed on Michelle’s vacant seat. In less than a second, he jumped onto the table and stuck his whole snout in her wineglass, sucking down the liquid loudly before turning and finishing Evan’s. Then Roscoe licked his lips and eyed the steak remaining on her plate. With a doggy shrug, he gulped the entire thing.

  Evan turned and gaped at the dog. “Seriously?”

  Wolfe sighed and strode forward. “He has a drinking problem and is way too fast. I should’ve checked out the table before releasing him.” He walked up the steps. “Bad, Roscoe.”

  Michelle could swear the dog rolled his eyes.

  Wolfe clapped Evan on the back, and the sound echoed back to the trees. “So. Which room is mine?”