Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty

Abby

Katie: Have you and Rafe broken the bed yet?

Me: Er, no.

Katie: Try harder! Nolan’s finally gave out last week. overheated emoji

Me: puking emoji No. Just no. He’s my brother.

Katie: He’s not mine, thank goodness. winking emoji But that’s not why I texted you. Okay, not the only reason. Nolan and I want to help with the tutoring center. What can we do?

Me: I’m not sure yet. But you might want to ask Rafe. It’s his place. I’m just an employee.

Katie: And his wife. Besides, he said it’s up to you. So when you have a better idea, let us know. heart emoji

Me: Thanks, Katie. And tell Nolan the same. It’ll probably be supplies, especially computers and laptops. But I’ll let you know soon.

Katie: Maybe we can double date and talk about it. Nolan keeps saying he knows this amazing hidden gem in San Francisco. We could make a day of it. Especially since Rafe could use some friends, and Nolan doesn’t have the history like a certain other Wolfe brother.

Me: That Wolfe brother will get pissed, though, when he finds out about it.

Katie: Maybe. But we’re all going to have to get along, so if I have to knock some heads together until West recognizes Rafe is family twice over, I will. I’ll send the details soon, and I won’t take no for an answer. heart emoji

T he next morning, I debated showering and getting ready before heading downstairs, but said screw it. I was going to spend the day at home, working on my computer and making plans for the tutoring center, and my pajamas were comfy.

So, a little before seven, I headed downstairs in my shirt and shorts, and heard some sports game blaring from the kitchen. After one last deep breath, I entered and stopped, watching as Rafe shouted, “What the fuck was that?”

I glanced at the tablet next to him on the counter and smiled as he continued to mutter not very nice things about the referee. I walked closer, saw it was a soccer game—probably in Europe, given how it said live and the time difference—and asked, “You still enjoy the game, even though you don’t play any longer?”

He turned off the tablet screen and turned around, his mouth open, but he stood silent. My cheeks heated as he took in my pajamas, lingering on my legs, before he cleared his throat and replied, “Yes. Aren’t you cold? It’s February.”

“No, I’m always warm when I wake up. I need lots of blankets to fall asleep, but I like cooling down in the morning.” I walked over to him and peered at the stove. “You’re making pancakes?”

I stood right next to him, close enough to feel his body heat and smell the purely masculine scent that was Rafael Mendoza, but somehow restrained myself from pressing up against his side.

He glanced at me and raised an eyebrow. “Pancakes aren’t rocket science. If I can’t stir together the pancake mix and water, then I have some issues.”

I snorted. “Zach would struggle. That man can burn toast in a toaster.”

“I can cook breakfast, at least. It was usually the only meal I was home for.” He gestured toward the kitchen island. “Sit down and I’ll make you some coffee.”

“Extra strong,” I said as I rubbed my eyes. I’d had trouble sleeping, my brain replaying Rafe’s mouth and how he’d made me come so hard.

Not wanting to go down that train of thought again, I asked, “Are you going to start an older guy soccer league in the area?”

“Older guy?”

“You know what I mean. For men not in their teens.”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to play again, though, but I could maybe coach.”

“Wait, what? Was your injury truly that bad?”

He fell silent, and I wondered if he’d answer. I probably should’ve waited until we were more comfortable around each other, but it’d just popped out.

Eventually he said, “It’s not just the last injury, to be honest. I’m thirty-six years old and my body has taken a lot of abuse over the course of my career. My physical therapist says if I take it easy for at least the next six months, I might be able to play for fun. But I knew the instant I hurt my knee this last time, it was over.”

“How are you coping? Are you okay? I mean, soccer was your life for nearly as long as I can remember.”

He flipped the pancakes before saying, “Yes and no. I love the game, and always will. But being a professional athlete is brutal, what with all the training and games and more training. The seasons are long for soccer, especially when you include all the championships, and it’ll be nice to slow down a little.”

“I sense a but.”

He sighed. “But I miss having a team, a purpose, and the sense of working toward a single goal.” He turned around and met my gaze. “It’s why I started a business instead of just retiring and living a life of leisure for the rest of my days.”

“I’d never really thought about that, retiring so young. I’m not sure I could do it, either.”

“Good, because that means I get to have a certain amazing teacher I know help me with the tutoring center. If I keep giving you raises, I have a chance of keeping you forever.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to ask if he’d still want me around after the year was up, but he went to the espresso machine to make me a latte and I clammed up.

As soon as he finished and placed it in front of me, I noticed the chocolate cat design on top and laughed. “Did you already have that one, or did you get one for me?”

“I could be all smooth and say I went out at the crack of dawn to find it. But, no, it was part of a pack. It didn’t have horses, or I would’ve done that for you.”

At the mention of horses, my heart squeezed. As a kid, I’d loved them so much, to the point my parents had thought I might train them for a living.

But after my mom died, it’d been too painful. While my dad had been the one to teach me to ride, to show me how to pick out the best horse, and how to care for them and treat them with respect, I’d ridden the most with my mom.

Once she died, Beck had tried to get me to ride again. But I’d never been strong enough to try.

Rafe’s voice interrupted my thoughts. “Why did you lose yourself in thought when I mentioned horses, Abby? Did you have a really bad accident or something that turned you off them?”

My eyes shot to his. “What?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “You’re fairly easy to read sometimes.” He glanced at the stove. “One second, and we’ll talk more about this.”

Part of me wanted to scream no, it would only remind me of my dad and bring back my grief.

And yet, I’d asked Rafe about something even more painful—losing his ability to play a game that had become his entire life.

So I could be strong and give him some honesty, too. It wasn’t as if he would laugh at me or strong-arm me into riding again. I may not know everything about the grown-up version of Rafe, but enough to trust that he’d respect my wishes.

He put a plate in front of me, and I laughed. It was a stack of pancakes with link sausage as the mouth and blueberries as the eyes and nose. The hair was drawn on the plate with chocolate syrup. “It’s cute.”

He hesitated before saying, “I used to make this for Emmy when she was a little girl. It always made her smile. And I know you’re a grown woman, but I figured I’d try it, anyway.”

“I love it, truly. But you better have one for yourself, too. Because I can’t wait to see the tall, sexy man eat his happy face pancake breakfast.”

He raised his brows. “Of course I have one. But he’s a little more manly.”

After grabbing his plate, he sat it next to me and took the stool. As soon as I saw the design, I snorted.

The pancake face had a beard made of bacon, his mouth drawn with maple syrup, and his eyes were fried eggs. The hair was made of whipped cream. Before he could cut into it, I swapped our plates.

“Hey!”

“Yours is better.”

“But you don’t even like bacon, or so you said.”

“Do you have more sausage? Because I want a sausage beard and then you can have yours back.”

“Are you blackmailing me by holding my breakfast hostage?”

“Yep.”

“And absolutely no remorse.” He sighed dramatically. “You want me to starve, I see.”

“Oh, stop it. You used to have a thing for eating peanut butter out of a jar. I’m sure you could have that for breakfast. Although giving me more sausage would be easier. A tall girl needs to eat. It’s one of the benefits, at least, to being a giant.”

He frowned. “You’re the perfect height, Abby. I wish you’d believe me.”

Not wanting to discuss this again, I moved as if to cut into his bearded pancake man, and Rafe jumped up. He came back with a plate of sausage. “Here. Just give me my pancakes back.”

Grinning, I picked up a link and bit into it, moaning. “Damn, this is good. What kind is it?”

But Rafe didn’t answer me. I opened my eyes and sucked in a breath at the heat in his gaze. “Rafe?”

He shook his head and dug into his breakfast. “The sausage is from my secret source.”

“Secret source? Really? You act like it’s something from the black market or an illegal enterprise.”

He winked. “Maybe it is.”

“You can be ridiculous, you know that, right?”

After swallowing his bite, he nodded. “Although the rest of the world probably won’t believe you. Speaking of the world…”

At his serious tone, my stomach churned. “What is it?”

He sipped his coffee and then answered, “The news about our marriage is out in the world now. A reporter contacted me for comment late last night, and I thought it better to get ahead of the story instead of letting them control the narrative.”

“Do they know about Vegas?”

“Only that we married there. However, they believed our childhood friends-to-lovers story.”

“What, exactly, did you say?”

“Just that when I came back home after my injury, I saw you all grown up and lost my heart on the spot. Not wanting my fame to ruin anything, we kept it secret and eventually married before telling anyone.”

“That’s not so bad.” I paused and then asked, “Will it be a big story here, too, do you think?”

“Maybe on the sports channels, and possibly the local news. You’re thinking of that asshole, aren’t you?”

I nodded, suddenly losing my appetite and pushing the plate away.

Rafe took one of my hands and squeezed. “I already have some trusted people looking into him and his life. If there’s a way to shut him up for good—and no, I don’t mean by killing him, no matter how tempting it is—they’ll find it. I promise to do all that I can to protect you, Abby.”

I met his gaze again, finding concern and sincerity. “I know. But that doesn’t mean I won’t worry. He’s a fragile, vindictive piece of shit. And the fact I married someone richer and arguably more powerful than him? He’ll hate it, and who knows how he’ll act. He could do anything, uncaring of the consequences to his own life if it means I lose and he wins.”

“Maybe, maybe not. But no matter what happens, I’m here for you, Abigail. I know I can’t guarantee anything, but if he does lash out, he’ll pay. I vow it.”

His vehement tone made me blink. “I believe you.”

“Good.” He waved toward the pancakes. “Won’t you eat a little more? Otherwise, I’ll have to eat it, and then I’ll have to waddle out the door.”

Smiling, I tugged the plate back. “At least you wouldn’t be waddling because I kneed you in the balls this time.”

He narrowed his eyes. “I didn’t waddle.”

“You totally did last night. It was hard not to laugh.”

He swiped whipped cream off his plate and dabbed my nose.

“Hey!”

I lunged for his plate, but he moved it out of the way. “Now, now, no food fights. This isn’t a Wolfe family dinner, after all.”

“Just for that…”

I lunged across the counter, grabbed his plate, scooped all the whipped cream off, and rubbed it all over his face.

He blinked at me, looking adorable, and I grinned. “There. Now we’re even.”

“Not even close, Abigail. Come here.”

I squeaked and dodged his hands. He chased me out of the kitchen, down the hallway, and I turned into a dead end. “Damn it.”

He slowed down, stalking toward me, his lips twitching even as the whipped cream slid down his face. “Now, come give your husband a kiss.”

He made loud kissing noises and leaned toward me.

“You’re being ridiculous.”

His tongue darted out, licking the whipped cream off my nose, and heat shot through my body. His hot breath danced across my skin as he said, “Maybe you wanted an excuse to lick my skin? Or maybe to suggest you want me to do it to you?”

He ran a finger down his cheek, and then lightly rubbed the whipped cream on my lips.

My heart thudded in my chest and time stilled as I waited to see what he’d do.

He murmured, “Do you want me to lick you clean, wife?”

“Yes.”

Leaning closer, his breath danced across my lips as he said, “Then I suppose I need to fulfill my husbandly duty and listen to you.”

His tongue flicked out, swiping across my bottom lip, before retreating, and he hummed. “Delicious, but not as good as the sweet honey I found between your thighs.”

Before any memories could flash in my head, Rafe licked my top lip and then took my mouth in a hot, lingering kiss. I melted against him, uncaring that we were both a little bit sticky, and moaned as his tongue stroked mine.

I was just about to press my body against his when he broke the kiss. His eyes searched mine, and the heat and yearning I saw there made me suck in a breath.

His voice was low as he said, “I have a contractor appointment in half an hour. I need to clean up and go, Abigail. No matter how much I want to stay here with you.”

My heart thudded in my chest. Part of me wanted to be selfish and ask him to stay. And yet, his earlier confession about needing something to keep him from feeling adrift came back to me. I couldn’t be responsible for derailing his plans, especially since I wasn’t really his wife.

So I patted his chest and smiled. “I know. Besides, I have to finalize any construction changes soon myself, so I should probably get to work too. And it’ll be easier to concentrate with you gone.”

Rafe looked about ready to say something else, but instead he stepped away and nodded. “I’ll see you at breakfast tomorrow, Abigail, if not sooner.”

I nodded. “And I’ll cook tomorrow.”

He smiled. “Will you wear a frilly apron for me? Combined with those tiny shorts, it will almost look like you’re naked from the front under it.”

I snorted. “You’ll just have to wait and see. Now, go, before I make you late and your business partner regrets you hiring me.”

“Mark never would.” I opened my mouth to protest, but he put up a hand. “But I do need to get ready and go. I hope you have a good day, Abby. Let me know if you need anything, anything at all.”

With that, he headed upstairs to clean up, and I leaned against the wall, closed my eyes, and tried to calm my heart.

I needed to be careful, really careful, because at this rate, I’d lower my walls, let Rafe into my heart, and then I’d fall to pieces all over again when we divorced in a year.

No, I needed to be strong. Remember, enjoy the physical but keep your heart separate.

With that, I went to wash my face and get ready for work. Just like Rafe could throw himself into something new and find a purpose, I’d do the same with the tutoring center.

That way I wouldn’t have much time to fawn over Rafael Mendoza and do something stupid, like fall in love with him.