The Way You Look Tonight (6 page)

Brooke frowned. "But is she happy?"

"I think so." Although that flash of emotion in her eyes when she’d come to see him in his office the day before had made him wonder if that were true. "She’s the go-to person in Seattle for swanky estates."

"I’d love to see her again."

"As soon as I tell her you’re here, I’m sure she’ll drop everything to come visit."

Which, he figured, would be a really good thing. Because if his sister was here, then there was no way he could accidentally slip up with Brooke by stripping her clothes off and using them to tie her to her bedposts.

"What about Adam? No, wait," she said, "let me guess. Is he an architect?"

Rafe was amazed by how perceptive she was, especially considering she’d only been a child the last time she’d seen his family. "Close. He rehabs historic homes."

She nodded as if it made perfect sense. "He was always building things when we were kids. I’d find him working with Grandpa fixing a broken pipe or putting on a new section of siding or trying to make a canoe by hand."

"Good thing he’s better at fixing up houses than he is at building boats. That thing must still be at the bottom of the lake."

"Wasn’t he going steady with that girl from across the lake?"

Had Brooke had a crush on Adam when they were younger? And if she had, why did it matter? It wasn’t like Rafe was going to lay claim to her, regardless of how much the caveman inside of him wanted to do just that.

"He was, but that ended when we left the lake."

"All of you are so good looking, I just don’t get wh—" She seemed to realize what she was saying a beat too late, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I just mean that I would think women are beating down your doors, so..." Her flush deepened. "Ugh. I should stop talking already. I’m just making it worse."

Damn, she was cute. And sexy. Who knew that would be such an irresistible combination?

And the truth was that he was just as surprised about her. He’d have thought she’d be married by now to some perfectly nice guy, with one kid holding on to her leg and another, smaller one in her arms.

Strange how easy it was to see her with those kids, and to know what a great mother she’d be. The guy, on the other hand, he couldn’t quite picture. Not when he knew there weren’t many guys out there who would be good enough for Brooke.

"You remember my eight cousins in San Francisco?"

She grinned. "Boy, was that a crazy week when they all came to visit. I always thought it would be amazing to have all those other kids to play with—five in yours and eight in theirs."

Rafe sometimes forgot that everyone didn’t have a big family like he did. Brooke only had her parents and grandparents.

Knowing it would please her, he said, "Every last one of them is paired off now."

He’d never personally been with a woman he could fully trust, but he’d managed to suspend disbelief for his charmed cousins in San Francisco. Along with his parents, they were the exception. But at the same time, he couldn’t understand how they’d all decided to take such a massive risk. Because if there was anything he’d learned during the past seven years, it was that e
ven if one person wanted to be steadfast, odds were the other person wouldn’t be. He sure as hell hoped his cousins could keep proving him wrong.

"All eight? That’s wonderful." Just as he’d expected, she looked extremely pleased by the thought of so many happy couples in one family. "What about Dylan?" She scrunched up her nose. "Although I’m still not sure I’ve forgiven him for making me go sailing with him that day when the winds were at twenty knots, and he told everyone I barfed over the side of the boat."

"If it makes you feel any better, he’s still taking women out on boats until they barf, which probably explains why he’s still single." She was laughing as he told her, "Only difference now is that he’s building the sailboats."

Brooke was still grinning as she drained the water from the pot and added butter, cheese, and a dash of pepper to the pasta. "And on that fantastically appetizing note, dinner is finally served."

When Rafe took a bite of her pasta, he nearly groaned with pleasure. "This is damn good, Brooke."

She looked like he’d just told her she’d won the lottery. "Thank you."

They ate in companionable silence while enjoying the sound of the frogs and the crickets outside. Finally, she pushed away her half-full plate and yawned. "Sorry, I had to get up early this morning to finish boxing some orders to deliver before the stores opened today."

"What time did you wake up?"

"Five a.m."

"I’ve kept you up too late. You need to go to bed." He stood and took their plates into the kitchen. "I’ll take care of cleaning up."

"You rode all the way here from Seattle on your motorcycle." She moved next to him to turn on the water and start the dishes. "You must be tired, too."

His first mistake was putting his hands on her waist to pull her away from the sink.

His second was not letting go.

And his third was almost lowering his mouth to hers.

Somehow, he managed to take a step back. "Thank you for dinner. It was great." He forced himself to look away from her gorgeous face and those curves that wouldn’t quit. "And thanks for giving me a place to stay. Now I’m going to wash your dishes, and you’re going to bed."

Alone, damn it.

"You haven’t had one of my truffles yet. Don’t you want one for dessert?"

Hungry for something he knew would be a hell of a lot sweeter than chocolate, he said, "I’d love one."

"I wonder which flavor I should give you?" She licked her lips as she stared at him, and he couldn’t keep his gaze from dropping to her full lower lip and then the beautiful bow at the center of her upper. "How hot do you like your spices?"

"Hot."

Her beautiful lips curved up. "I had a feeling you’d say that." She took a piece of chocolate with a red swirl across the top from a clear plastic container on the counter. "Try a bite of this one."

She didn’t hand him the chocolate, but lifted it to his mouth instead. He leaned down and bit into it. Spice and steam instantly hit his tongue, followed by the smooth, rich flavor of dark chocolate.

"You like it, don’t you?"

With his mouth full, he could only nod.

"Have the rest."

Her voice was husky, and though the truffle was amazing, he wanted to bite into her instead the next time. When she moved just a little bit closer to feed him the other half of the chocolate, the sweet scent of her hair and skin had him swaying toward her just enough that his tongue slicked over the pad of her forefinger.

Her pupils dilated, and he could have sworn he heard a small gasp fall from her lips at the tiny contact.

Somehow, he convinced his feet to take a step back from her again. "Your truffles are delicious, Brooke."

"Thank you."

They stared at each other for several heated moments. "I’ve kept you up too late. Go to bed."
Before I do more than lick your fingertip.

"Take either of the guest bedrooms and let me know if you need anything." She paused and looked up at him with her big green eyes. "Anything at all."

His head swam with thoughts of all the things he needed from her. Backing her up against the wall. Pinning her against him with his thighs between hers. Pulling the long-sleeved shirt over her head. Lowering his mouth to the soft swell of her breasts. Drinking in the sweet sound of her gasps and sighs as he laved her skin with his tongue. Lifting her into his arms, before lowering her onto the bed. Using her shirt to tie her arms above her head to her bed frame. And then loving the hell out of her with his hands and mouth until she was begging for more. For all of him.

"I’m not going to need anything." The words came out harder than they should have, but that was only because he was mere seconds from losing control entirely and acting out the scene his brain had just scripted.

"Okay." Her mouth started to move up into a smile, but fell before it got all the way there. "Good night, Rafe."

For a moment, he thought—prayed—she might turn and walk out of the room without giving him a hug good night. But then she was moving closer and wrapping her arms around him. Of course he had to put his around her, too.

Once he was there, he couldn’t do a damn thing but breathe her in...and relish every single inch of her body against his.

"Good night, Brooke."

When she finally moved out of his arms and walked down the hall to her bedroom, he finished cleaning up the kitchen. The dishes didn’t take him long, but before he headed back to the small guest room, he made a quick sweep of the house. First, he checked that all the windows were latched—of course, most of them weren’t—and then the locks on the front door.

When they were kids, the lake was a safe place, but after working as a cop and then a P.I., Rafe no longer trusted in that safety, not even in a sleepy little town like this. He couldn’t stand the thought of anything happening to Brooke as a lone woman on a mostly deserted stretch of road off the lake. First thing tomorrow he’d pick up some better locks at the hardware store.

His ride out to the lake had been a good one, but that many hours on his motorcycle could be fairly exhausting. Still, he knew if he got into bed now he’d only end up lying there fixating on the beautiful woman down the hall, so he started doing push-ups until he was dripping with sweat. Sit-ups were next, a hundred and then a hundred more, until his abs were burning as badly as his arms. By the time he’d finished his impromptu workout, then taken a much-needed shower and climbed into bed, he should have been burnt out enough to fall asleep.

But every time he closed his eyes, he saw Brooke standing, dripping wet in her bikini, her expression at once innocent and yet innately sensual. He’d taken the small guest room farthest away from her. The double bed barely left room for a dresser and one side table, but frankly, he hadn’t trusted himself to sleep only one wall away from her. Not if it meant he could hear every time she rolled over in her bed. Not if it meant he’d be unable to stop wondering if she had changed into pajamas...or if she slept in the nude like he did.

Reeling with full-on need that he hadn’t even come close to squashing, Rafe closed his eyes again and willed himself to sleep.

He’d need every ounce of focus tomorrow to keep his hands off Brooke.

Chapter Five

The next morning, Rafe woke to the sound of the shower running. Even though it was fairly cool in the house, he was sweating. He couldn’t have imagined having this kind of reaction to Brooke, but that didn’t change the fact that he was.

Pissed at himself, he yanked on his jeans and pulled his cell from the pocket. His sister picked up on the first ring. "How’s the lake?"

"The lake is great. It’s the house that’s the problem."

He waited for her to exclaim with surprise, or to ask him exactly what the problem was. But all Mia said was, "When I finally got hold of the selling agent last night, she mentioned it needed a little TLC."

"TLC?" He might have laughed at that ridiculous understatement if his system hadn’t been so twisted up with impossible desire for the beautiful, entirely off-limits woman in the shower down the hall. "You should have seen the look on Brooke’s face when we walked in there, crunching over dead raccoon bones."

Of course, Mia didn’t comment on the animal bones, not when her ears had perked up for a completely different reason. "Wait a minute—Brooke’s still next door?"

"She moved in a few years ago after her grandparents passed away and willed the place to her." As Mia made a sound of distress at the thought of Judy and Frank being gone, he added, "Brooke makes truffles for a living."

"Chocolate truffles?" He could practically see his sister drooling over the phone. "Sounds like the two of you caught up last night," she said in a deceptively easy voice. One he knew better than to take at face value.

"She offered to let me stay with her until I fix up my place enough to move into it. I figure it will take at least a week if I work around the clock on it."

"Wow, that’s great that you’re staying with her," his sister said in a voice heavy with suggestion.

Suggestion he was going to ignore, just as he was ignoring his own brain’s suggestions for all the super-sexy things he and Brooke could do together. Knowing Mia, she’d use her annoying little-sister ESP to pick up on his inappropriate thoughts for their next-door neighbor over the phone, and he’d never—ever—hear the end of it.

He’d called his sister to mutter about the state of the house she’d bought with his money, not to talk about Brooke. But somehow everything kept coming back around to his beautiful new roommate no matter what he did. Turning his focus back to the house, he’d finally begun to walk Mia through its state of disrepair when his sister’s phone beeped with another incoming call.

"I’ve got to take this call, Rafe, but don’t worry, I’m not going to leave you hanging. It’s really good to know Brooke’s taking care of you. Say hi to her for me and tell her I can’t wait to see her."

The shower turned off at the same time his sister hung up on him. Rafe had a feeling Mia’s upcoming trip to the lake was going to have far more to do with spying on her brother and her old friend than it would with helping him fix up the wreck of a house.

Knowing better than to allow his brain any time to focus on the fantasy of Brooke getting out of the shower and drying off her wet, naked skin with a towel, he quickly pulled on a T-shirt and went into the kitchen to make breakfast for them both.

There were several loaves of dough rising—when had she made those?—and all he could think was that it smelled exactly the way a home should. His mother had always made her own bread, and the familiar smell reached down into him, past all the crap that he’d dealt with these past few years, into the childlike and innocent part of him he’d thought was completely lost.

How, he wondered, could nothing more than a smell do that?

He shook his head against the crazy thoughts. By the time Brooke walked into the kitchen looking fresh and gorgeous in a tank top and shorts, he had dished up scrambled eggs and bacon and toast on the kitchen island for both of them.