Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Abby

Zach: I found some cardboard boxes for you. Are you going to tell me what they’re for yet?

Me: Can’t a girl have some secrets?

Zach: Well, that depends. Are you building a giant box fort? Because if so, I want in.

Me: eye roll emoji I’m not seven years old. So no, I’m not building a box fort.

Zach: Hey, I had to ask. With you moving back home, I thought maybe you were going to start reliving your childhood. You placing a frog in my bed would be next, and I need to be prepared. winking emoji

Me: I never did that! It was Zane.

Zach: Naw, it was you. We both watched you do it. That’s why we put the worms in your bed.

Me: I still have nightmares about the wriggly things against my feet!

Zach: Hmm, maybe Zane and I should try to pull some pranks again. It’d be a nice welcome home present for you, to feel a part of the family again.

Me: How old are you?

Zach: You’re the one wanting to make a box fort.

Me: middle finger emoji Has anyone told you that you’re a man child lately?

Zach: I resent that. I can dress and wash myself, thank you very much. I even have a decent job.

Me: That’s a pretty low bar, Zach. sighing emoji Just tell me where you put the boxes.

Zach: I can’t because I didn’t hide them. Zane did. And not even I know all of his hiding spots. It should be fun finding them.

Me: Fine. I’ll ask Zane. I love him more anyway. tongue out emoji

Zach: Love you too. We can go box hunting together when you get home. grinning emoji

T hat evening, I paced Rafe’s living room and kept looking at the stairs. Part of me wanted to go and snoop a little, but another part of me knew that wasn’t the best way to start a marriage.

Marriage.

Twisting the ring on my finger, I paced faster. Rafe should be home soon to begin our married couple lessons, and my heart raced and my palms sweated.

Not because kissing him or touching him would be a chore. I’d dreamed of kissing Rafael Mendoza since I was a little girl. The hard part would be not taking it further, keeping my heart walled off, and not allowing memories of the boy he’d been to cloud my judgment about the man he’d become.

Remember, he hurt Emmy. Plus, he’s been away a long time, and he’ll probably leave again, too. Don’t get attached. Don’t do it.

Although remembering the placard with my name on the door and him giving me the choice of my last name softened me a little. Then the man had gone and listened to my ideas of how to tweak the tutoring center and praised me about the suggestions.

Those things reminded me of the boy he’d been so much. Maybe a part of the old Rafe had survived after all.

Stop it. Don’t go chasing rainbows.

I was about to distract myself with texting my annoying brother again when the front door opened and Rafe called out, “Abby? Where are you?”

Well, here goes. “In the living room.”

I stood near the fireplace for extra warmth. Well, and to put as much distance between me and the entryway as possible.

Rafe walked in, his hair ruffled and his jaw dark with late-day stubble. I wanted to run my fingers over his cheek, his nose, his lips. Would they be soft or hard?

Damn it, why did he have to be so sexy?

He eyed the fire and then met my gaze. “It’s not that cold.”

It was true. But building the fire had distracted me for a few minutes, and there was something comforting about the crackle and pop as it burned. “I get cold easily. I’m also that person who needs four blankets at night in the winter, and two pairs of socks.”

“Wait, doesn’t your family keep the heat on at night?”

“Yes, but not high enough for me.”

Maybe you could warm me up.

Rafe tossed his jacket on the recliner and walked toward me. It was hard not to stare at his long, lean legs. But his gait was a little off, especially with his right leg. “I thought your injury was healed.”

He stopped walking and frowned. “It is.”

I met his gaze. “But you’re almost limping.”

“It acts up sometimes, especially when it’s cold. But that’s not important. We don’t have a lot of time until we have to go to my sister’s dinner in two days, so let’s focus on how we’re going to act and what we’re going to tell them.”

Part of me wanted to push, to find out just how bad his injury had been.

However, I had five older brothers and I’d learned early on that asking about any sort of weakness usually made them prickly and uncomfortable. Not that I’d given up completely with Rafe. But we hadn’t even moved in together yet. I needed to pace myself.

I plopped down onto the sofa and patted the spot next to me. “Come sit by me.”

He didn’t waste time settling next to me, close enough that his leg brushed mine and a thread of heat shot through my body. The smart thing would be to move away and keep my mind clear. But we wouldn’t be able to do that at Emmy’s dinner, or any event for the next year, so I needed to learn how to ignore the way Rafe affected me.

His left leg bounced in place as he said, “How far we go in public for PDA is up to you, Abigail.” He studied the painting over the fireplace, one that looked a lot like his family’s ranch when we’d been kids. “I know what I said before, about always being affectionate. But I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He finally met my eyes again. “I’m not like that bastard who took advantage of you, and I’m determined to prove it.”

I softened a little. “I may not like how you abandoned your sister or friends, but I can’t ever imagine you blackmailing me with altered sex videos.”

He clenched the fingers of one hand into a fist. “I’m sorry that’s the bar you have to set, Abby. It’s way too low. You deserve better. Better than him, better than me.”

My brows drew together. “Better than you?”

He waved a hand in dismissal. “I don’t know why I said that. At any rate, we should focus on how we’ll act in public and what to tell our families. If…if you want to kiss in public, then we’ll have to practice that now.”

Rafe shifted in his seat, and I bit back a smile. He was nervous. Somehow, the world-famous playboy was nervous.

Then it hit me—maybe he didn’t want to kiss me. I was his sister’s best friend, after all. Maybe he thought of me as his sister, too.

His looks from before don’t support that, do they?

Maybe. But Rafe had wanted honesty, so I was going to try my best to do that. “If it makes you uncomfortable, we don’t have to. But I wouldn’t mind if we had to kiss.”

Oh, crap. Had I really said that?

Rafe’s eyes turned heated and his voice was husky as he said, “I wouldn’t mind, either.”

For a few seconds, we merely stared at each other and my heart raced as I squeezed my thighs together. After all these years, was I finally going to kiss Rafael Mendoza?

He leaned forward and cupped my cheek. As his thumb ran back and forth across my skin, my lips parted and I couldn’t tear my gaze away from his mouth. Would his kiss be gentle and tender? Or, desperate and devouring? Somewhere in between?

Stopping a few inches from my face, he whispered, “Time to finally kiss my wife.”

A shiver ran down my spine but I barely had time to notice as we both closed the distance and his lips met mine.

At first, he was soft, gentle, and took his time merely teasing my mouth. But something inside me burst, and I threaded my fingers through his hair and moved closer.

With a growl, his tongue seamed my lips and I opened, groaning as his tongue stroked and explored and tangled with mine.

Somehow I moved to straddle his lap, and Rafe placed a possessive hand on my hip, holding me tight as his mouth continued to devour me. Each nibble and lick and swirl made me moan even harder and my clit throbbed, wanting more, so much more.

His hand on my hip moved to my ass. He kneaded and squeezed as his mouth continued to tease and claim. When he pressed me closer, I didn’t resist. The moment his hard cock pressed against my clit, even through both our clothes, I cried out.

Rafe broke the kiss and quickly moved me to the sofa cushion. He stood, walked to the fireplace, and stared into the flames.

My mind tried to catch up with what had happened. I breathed heavily, reveling in his lingering taste in my mouth. The memory of his cock pressed against me made me want to drag him back and demand more.

No kiss had ever made me lose myself like that, to the point I would’ve fucked him on the couch if he hadn’t stopped us.

How was I supposed to live with this man for a year and keep things platonic?

His voice was low, so low I could barely hear it as he said, “You should go now, Abby.”

Frowning, I stood and tried to meet his gaze, but Rafe continued to stare into the fire. “Why? If we act like that, then it should convince anyone we’re a couple for real.”

His gaze shot to mine. “You were acting?”

No. It was the best kiss of my life.

“Yes. Why waste time fumbling around when we’re both experienced enough to know how to kiss?”

His eyes searched mine, his expression unreadable. Could he tell I was lying?

Finally, he looked back at the flames and replied, “Well, I’d rather not take it that far in front of our families. Speaking of which, I need some time alone to think about the holes in our story. I’ll call you tomorrow and we can finalize things.”

“But the dinner is the day after tomorrow. Shouldn’t we talk in person to get used to each other more? I can stop by tomorrow.”

He shook his head. “I have a lot to do at the training center tomorrow. Sorry.”

As he drummed his fingers on the mantel, I wanted to ask if the kiss had affected him as much as me. Or, was he trying to spare my feelings? For all I knew, he’d kissed twenty women the same way and he didn’t want to encourage me.

Not wanting to go down the rabbit hole of comparing myself to his former partners, I nodded. “Fine. Call me when you can. But it’s probably better if we arrive separately to Emmy and West’s place. That way, they won’t know right away we’re a couple and we can judge the best time to reveal the news.”

“I agree.”

I waited a few seconds, wondering if he’d say anything else. But Rafe just continued staring into the fire and ignoring me.

So the kiss meant nothing. He just wants me gone. I’m the inconvenient future roommate.

It shouldn’t hurt, and yet it did.

At least it reminded me that being married to Rafe was purely transactional.

Before I could do something stupid, like cry, I cleared my throat and said, “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

Not waiting to see if he looked up, I turned and grabbed my purse from the table in the entryway, exited, and rushed into my car.

I took a second to stare at Rafe’s house, remembering the kiss and how I’d felt in his arms—safe, desired, an equal.

Then I quickly took a deep breath and locked it away. He’d been my childhood crush, true. But tonight had been the wake-up call I’d needed. From now on, this would be a giant production, one where I played a character to the world but dropped it when alone with Rafe.

The hardest part would be keeping it up around my family. Once this was all over, I only hoped they would forgive my deception. Especially once they learned about the favor I collected from Rafe and his help at hopefully taking care of Travis.

Because at some point, I’d have to share what he’d done to me.

Of course, that meant surviving the year and not screwing up by doing something stupid, like falling for Rafe all over again.

Not wanting to dwell on it, I turned on the car, blasted some music, and headed back to my family’s house. The sooner I got home, the sooner I could start a fight with one of my brothers and forget about everything else.

Including the most magical and consuming kiss of my life.