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  He looked up, fork halfway to his mouth, noticing her lack of participation. "Darlin', you need to eat. It'll make you feel better."

  Her head was pounding, but the queasiness in her stomach made food sound like a really bad idea. Plus the fact, still confused from the kiss he'd given her not five minutes ago, she was too distracted to eat. She wasn't usually so slow on the uptake, but Cole had her tied up in knots, and she couldn't think clearly where he was concerned. "Not to sound like a broken record, but what the heck is going on?"

  Their eyes crossed paths as he looked up from his plate, and she looked down at it. She was shocked to find half his mountain of food already gone. Either she'd sat in a daze longer than she thought, or he was a really fast eater. "We're eating breakfast."

  Abby rolled her eyes, wondering whether he was intentionally trying to be obtuse and figured, he was too smart not to be. But she wasn't backing down. He wanted to play word games? Fine. She would be more direct. Make him answer her questions. "I meant between you and me. The kiss. You claiming I'm yours."

  He set his fork down on his plate, braced his hands on the counter for support, and leaned in close. She noticed he did this a lot, got in her space, and she wasn't sure if she liked it or not. Her family had never been the touchy-feely sort. Waking in Cole's arms that morning was the closest she'd come to a hug in so long, she couldn't even remember. Close human contact had not been part of her make-up.

  "I thought it was pretty self-explanatory, but if you need more explicit details, I'd be happy to share them with you." She was weary of his sudden wicked smirk and evil twinkle in his eye.

  She cleared her throat, but it didn't help. Her voice still came out raspy. "I'm not sure I like you." And that was the God's truth. Her body might be in love, but her brain was flashing big, red warning lights almost impossible to ignore.

  The smile he gave her lit his eyes, making him appear almost boyish, and she realized it was the first time she'd seen such a carefree smile from him. "That's because you're smart." He lost his smile as he leaned into her again, only this time, supporting himself on one hand so the other could come up and caress her cheek. "I'm not a real likable guy, I get that, and it's okay if you don't like me because your body tells a different story and like I said, I'm a greedy bastard, so that's enough for me.

  "Now, me, on the other hand, I like you. I think you're sweet, funny, and your voice makes my dick get hard every time I hear it. You're quiet and shy but under the surface, you've got a quick temper that I love to poke a stick at because that's a whole nother turn-on in itself. And darlin', your ass, whether in tight ass jeans, those little skimpy jean shorts you like to wear, or those sexy, fuck-me skirts, looking at it is my new favorite pastime. But even your ass, as gorgeous as it is, has got nothing on your face." His thumb skimmed across her cheekbone. A light, barely there touch, like a lover's caress. "Flawless, unsurpassed beauty. I've never seen its equal.

  "Now, let me clear up any confusion. Last night, you became mine. I claimed you in front of your girls. That kiss," he said, with a nod to the living room, "sealed the deal. So to answer your question, there is no you and me, we are now an us."

  By the time Cole finished his speech—and it was a speech, it was the most she'd heard Cole say at one time—she was left speechless, staring at him, her mouth hanging open, eyes so wide she could feel them bugging from her head. Her brain did a flashback processing everything from the moment she'd met him until now. Who was this guy? Gruff, bossy, blunt to a fault, one moment. Protective, caring, charmer the next. His possessively dominating Neanderthal act from last night clashed drastically with his tenderly sweet words from but a moment ago and was enough to give any girl whiplash, especially a girl as relationship challenged as she.

  His hand skimmed her jaw, his fingers stopping under her chin, applying light pressure to close it. "Eat." He picked up his fork and dug back into his plate.

  Not knowing what to say, her head pounding too much to think about and process everything that just happened, she picked up her fork and ate.

  Abby sat on her couch, feet up on the coffee table, head tipped back, trying to get rid of the last of her headache. After she'd eaten enough to make Cole happy, she'd insisted he take her home. He hadn't been happy, even tried to coerce her with another bone-melting kiss (that nearly worked), but short of tying her to his bed—which, Abby had a feeling he wouldn't be opposed to doing—he couldn't force her to stay. After explaining she needed some time alone to process everything, he'd grudgingly complied.

  Now, hours later with a shower, nap, and light dinner of soup under her belt, she felt almost normal. Her body, at any rate, her emotions were a different story. She still had trouble wrapping her brain around the fact that Cole wanted her. And although she was hesitant to make assumptions—because that had worked so well for her with their first two encounters—it did sound like he wanted her for more than a one-shot deal. After all, he was the one who'd called them an "us."

  She pondered how she felt about that. She'd been willing to try a short fling—walking in with her eyes wide open, knowing not to get attached—never having felt sexual desire before and wanting to explore it. But how did she feel about starting a relationship? Did she want to risk emotions getting involved? What would happen if the lust she was feeling turned into love and he didn't reciprocate those feelings? She'd be left heartbroken when he finished with her. Was the saying about love and loss true? Because from where she sat, the whole idea seemed scary.

  Being twenty-two, she should know the answers to these questions. The average person would've had a few relationships under their belt and maybe even a few one-night stands by now. But that was her problem, she wasn't normal. She was socially stunted. And the only way to fix that problem was to go out and live a little. So that's what she needed to do. She would not only step out of her box but throw the box away. This move was supposed to be a fresh start at a new life. And what better way of starting her new life than an adventure with Cole Garrison. However long or short the adventure may last, she would live the experience to its fullest.

  Mind made up, she thought it best to set her plan in motion quickly. She knew if she slept on her new resolution, she would probably lose her nerve by morning. She needed to talk to Cole.

  A knock at her front door startled her out of her musings. She frowned, it was rather late for a Sunday-night visitor. She wasn't sure of the exact time, but it was dark so knew it had to be past eight. The knock came again, this time, louder. Standing from the couch, she looked down at herself. She wasn't dressed for company. After taking a shower, she'd put Cole's T-shirt back on—the silly part of her brain liked the idea of wearing his shirt. It wasn't overly revealing, covering more skin than the average sundress but the reality was, it was still just a T-shirt.

  Pushing aside the curtain, she looked out the side window surprised to see a sheriff stood on her front porch. The overhead light, reflecting off his badge, capturing her attention. A tingle of apprehension shivered down her spine as she hastily unlocked the dead bolt, and multiple worst case scenarios filtered through her head as she swung the door open.

  "Ma'am." His voice was a deep rumble, his movements shadowy through the thick mesh of the locked privacy screen door. He tipped his hat before standing fully erect, hooking his thumbs into his waistband.

  "Is something wrong, Sheriff?" She stood at a slant, shielding her lower half with the front door.

  "It's deputy, ma'am, Deputy Williams and no, nothing's wrong. Just doing a drive-by of the area, saw your light on, thought I'd introduce myself. I'm sure you'll be seeing me around, didn't want to be a stranger."

  Abby breathed out in relief, her heart rate slowing when she realized he wasn't there for some life or death situation. She needed to start thinking in "small town" mentality.
Of course, people would stop by, introduce themselves, even the local law enforcement. That was why she'd moved to Jasper Falls, to experience "small town" living and break herself out of her cocoon of shyness. "Oh... Well, it's nice to meet you, Deputy Williams. I'm sorry, I would invite you in, but I'm really not dressed for company."

  "I understand, ma'am. It's late, and this was an unexpected visit." He slipped a business sized card in the crack of the screen door and jamb. "Here's the number to the station. Be sure to call if you need anything."

  "Thank you, I'll be sure to do that."

  "You have a good night, ma'am." He tipped his hat once more before turning and walking down the porch steps.

  "Good night, Deputy." She pulled the little white card out of the screen, and tossed it on the side table by the front door without looking at it.

  Did she think it strange that as she left the house ten minutes later—decked out in a pair of comfy blue jeans and baggy sweatshirt, ready for her talk with Cole—she saw the deputy's car still sitting in front of her house? Yes, yes she did. Was it stranger that as soon as she descended her porch steps the cruiser made a U-turn and took off down the road out of sight? Yes, again. She supposed there could have been a logical explanation. He was on a phone call. He was catching up on some paperwork. But still, she made a mental note to check the locks on all windows and doors before going to bed that night to be on the safe side.

  It only took a minute to drive to Cole's house. Not nearly enough time for her to get her jitters under control. However, this time, she didn't sit in the car and contemplate whether she would get out. No, she put the car in park, turned off the ignition, and swung open her car door all in one fluid motion, hopping out and walking briskly up to the front door. She was a woman on a mission.

  And then her mission fell apart thwarted by her own uncertainty.

  The house was dark, no lights shone through any downstairs windows. She wondered whether he was home or worse, home but not alone and already "in bed" for the night. Arm raised ready to knock, that thought made her hesitate. And once the first doubt crept into her mind, others soon followed.

  She wasn't sure how long she stood paralyzed in front of Cole's front door but knew the jig was up when the door opened. Cole stood before her, shirtless, in only a pair of jeans, barefoot, his hair in disarray, eyes heavily lidded. He looked as if he'd just woken. It was a good look. Flickering lights from the big-screen TV pulsed in the background of the otherwise darkened living room.

  One look at his sleep-sexy, disheveled state was all it took for her doubts to disappear, and her name, uttered in his gruff voice on a relieved sigh, sealed her fate. He was right, she was his.

  * * * * *

  He'd known the moment a car had pulled up his drive. The headlights had flashed through the front window. When a few minutes passed and no doorbell or knock was forthcoming, he'd gotten up from his reclined position on the couch to investigate. Opening the door, he hadn't expected to see Abby at such a late hour. He also hadn't expected the rush of relief he felt upon seeing her, knowing that she'd come to him, again, even if standing immobile on his stoop for five minutes proved she was still hesitant about her decision.

  "Abby." Her name fell from his lips, and he took the few steps that separated them, capturing her face in his hands before claiming her lips in a kiss.

  He was like a man starved and Abby, his first meal. He bit, licked, sucked, and devoured her lips. He turned, maneuvering her through the door, closing it with his heel before turning once more, pressing her against the hard surface. His hands raked into her hair, encountering some kind of hair thing that he ripped at with his fingers until the offending object was gone, leaving her hair free to cascade over his hands. He gripped handfuls, tilting her head, deepening the kiss.

  His devil, in full control now, took over the show, pressing his hips into her soft, pliant stomach, grinding against her while his tongue ravaged her mouth, branding it, leaving his mark.

  He was consumed by her—her taste, her scent, the feel of her surrounding him.

  So lost in a sexually haze, he almost didn't hear her small, distressed whimper. It played through his ears, firing tiny synapses that transmitted fright loud and clear to the small section of his brain that still held a shred of morality. Pulling away, slightly loosening his hold on her, he looked into her fear-widened eyes and felt like a complete ass.

  Still breathing heavy, he placed his forehead to hers, lightly skimming his fingers along her scalp in a soothing gesture. "Just give me a minute," he rasped, willing his heart rate to slow.

  His hands trailed down to her neck, caressing the soft skin. He felt her heartbeat thumping a strong rhythm on the pads of his fingers. He'd scared her, he'd frightened his little mouse, and the realization caused something unfamiliar to squeezed at his heart. He backed away from her and looked down at the floor. He raked a hand through his hair, his hand coming to rest on the back of his neck where he gave a firm squeeze.

  In another minute, he had himself under control and dared to glance over at her. She still leaned against the door, but the fright had left her eyes. He felt the restricting noose around his heart loosen and was able to take a complete breath.

  She stared right at him, not looking away while she quickly licked her lips, her pink, little tongue darting out, capturing his full attention. "I um... I came over so we could talk."

  She gave him a weak smile, but it lit her eyes, and his own lips tugged into a smirk in response. He held out his hand, and she hesitated only a second before taking it. He pulled her to the couch, and they sat semi-facing each other. Picking up the remote, he muted the sound but left the TV on for the ambient light.

  He reached over, taking her hand because for some reason, he couldn't be near her and not touch her in some way. Her fingers were small and slim, such a contrast to his larger hands. He traced his thumb over the delicate bone of her knuckle while he thought about the best way to apologize for something he wasn't really sorry about. Yes, he was sorry he came on so strong, too fast, and scared her but not sorry he'd kissed her in the first place, so that left him a bit challenged by what direction he wanted to take.

  They were both quiet, the silence becoming a tangible entity in the room. He took a deep breath finally prepared to speak, but she surprised him with the words she spoke first.

  Chapter Nine

  "I'm..." Abby looked down at their joined hands suddenly unable to look at Cole and speak a coherent sentence at the same time. "I'm sorry I freaked out on you back there. I'm um... not used to that."

  Cole let out a deep breath. She heard it as well as saw the deflation of his chest as if he were releasing a weight of tension. "You don't need to apologize." His words came out harsh and from his slight wince, she didn't think he meant for them to. She watched his chest as he took another deep breath. "It was my fault. I shouldn't have attacked you like that."

  He thought she objected to his treatment of her? "No, I liked it." She felt a blush cover her face. "I mean, it was just sudden. I wasn't expecting it, and I thought we should talk first. It wasn't your um..." she felt her cheeks grow warmer, "forcefulness."

  She watched his eyes grow dark, and a small smirk played upon his lips. "Well, that's good."

  His short sentence was benign but felt as if it held more meaning than she actually understood, reminding her there was something important she needed to tell him. Something that might have him changing his mind about her, again, and she wanted to get it out of the way now, rather than later.

  Her butterfly friends once again took flight, only this time, they fluttered with nervous energy. Her throat tightened as her anxiety rose, making it difficult to speak, and she coughed, trying to clear away some of the pressure. "When I told you I wa
sn't used to that, I didn't mean the way you kissed me, but rather being kissed at all." At his look of confusion, she continued, "This morning, when you kissed me," she dropped her eyes staring sightlessly at their joined hands, "that was my first real kiss. So as you can guess, you'd be my first," she raised her head, wanting to see his reaction, "everything."

  She wasn't shocked by his surprised expression. His brows practically disappeared into his hairline. "I suppose this changes things again," she said, in a small voice.

  "The only thing it changes is my dick is even harder for you now than it was a moment ago."

  She gasped when he pulled her hand to his lap, showing her proof of his statement.

  "Does that scare you, Little Mouse?"

  "No," she whispered, and it was true, she wasn't scared. Fascinated maybe, definitely intrigued by what she felt under the butter-soft denim. Of course, she'd seen pictures of a penis, but she'd never seen one in real life nor actually touched one before. She gave it a light squeeze, testing its size and shape, her fingers stilling when Cole expelled a hiss of breath. "Did I hurt you?"

  He squeezed her fingers more firmly against his length, guiding her hand up and then down. "No." His eyes were closed, and she wondered what he felt. His expression was hard to read. The slight wincing of his eyes denoted pain, yet the barest uplift of his lips displayed pleasure.

  Encircling her wrist, he brought her hand up and lightly kissed her open palm. Sluggishly opening his eyes, he said, "As much as I was enjoying that, you wanted to talk, and if we continue, not a whole lot of talking will get done."

  He still held her hand to his lips as he spoke, and she was fascinated by the tingles that zinged up her arm from the soft brush of his lips along her sensitive skin. She even felt the warm tip of his tongue touch the center of her palm before he released her wrist.

  She folded her fingers into a fist wanting to capture and hold on to the sensation. He leaned back on the couch, placing his feet on the coffee table, seeming to get comfortable. He leaned his head back but turned it in her direction so he could look at her.