Love Me if You Dare (10 page)

Angel’s shoulders and stance relaxed. “Actually, I am.”

His mood lightened. “So I’ll see you there,” he
said, feeling upbeat for the first time in a long time. “And tomorrow night’s wine tasting?” he asked.

“That, too.”

In for a penny,
he thought. “Save me a dance tonight?”

“Sure,” she said, but she sounded uncertain.

“Hey, we’ve just gone all of two minutes without fighting. I figured why not push our luck?”

She laughed, a free and easy sound he missed. “I’d like that.”

“Me, too.” A quiet moment passed with nothing but the sound of their breathing. No arguing, no bickering. It was time to get out before he put his foot in his mouth. “So, I’ll see you tonight?”

She blinked in obvious surprise. “What about your pie?”

He angled his head toward the back of the booth, where Rafe and Sara stood with their heads together, whispering and obviously lost in their own world, pie forgotten.

“Ahh.” Angel grinned.

“Yeah.” He grinned, too. “So, uh, I’ll catch up with you later?”

She nodded. “Sure.”

He shoved his hands into his pockets and took a step back. “And we’ll dance?”

She nodded. “We’ll dance.” This time she sounded more certain.

“Good.” He turned and headed for the booth, hoping they could sustain the truce longer than just this night.

P
IRRO LOVED LIFE
, but his happiness was tied to his family’s, and they were all an unhappy mess. His daughter was separated, his son-in-law, who he loved like his own, couldn’t see past his own pain and hurt to find his way back to the wife he loved, and Pirro’s own wife was out of sorts but wouldn’t tell him what was wrong. His side business was the only thing stress-free these days.

Pirro, on the other hand, valued what was important, and he decided to surprise his Vivian with flowers. Maybe that would cheer her up. He purchased the nicest bouquet he could find from Manny the florist, who’d set up a booth at the end of the street outside his shop.

Pirro paid, pocketed his change and turned to head back to the spice booth, but he was stopped by two young men he’d seen around town earlier. He didn’t know their names, but they were the only ones wearing argyle sweaters in the heat of summer, so they stood out even among the other strangers in town.

“Pirro DeVittorio?” the blonder of the two men asked.

“The one and only! What can I do for you? Is it my company’s homegrown basil that interests you?”
He’d been fielding requests all day after people tasted Vivian’s calzone and asked what the secret ingredient was.

The blonde fellow eyed the darker-haired man and laughed. “Yeah, the basil.”

“My son-in-law, Nick, can give you information about product. I’m just in charge of distribution,” Pirro explained. “And while you’re discussing the basil, please take a look at our other products. I’m sure you’ll find our spices are better than any on the market today.”

“Pops, we don’t need the spiel. We’re already sold.”

Pirro grinned. “Well, that makes things simpler, but the same rules apply. My son-in-law is taking orders at the booth. Then we’ll be in touch as to shipment dates and times.”

The darker-haired man took a step closer. “No, we’ll tell you how it’s going to be. We want in on your supplier and distribution.”

Pirro raised an eyebrow. “You’re confused. My company, the Spicy Secret, is the supplier. Our spices are homegrown,” he said proudly. He’d worked his way up in the company, starting as a delivery boy when he was in high school. He’d been a part of their growth and success.

“Pops, you don’t have to play word games with us. We know you’re in the drug trade. So are we.”

“Drug trade?” Pirro narrowed his gaze. They couldn’t be referring to his side business. Nobody but close friends knew about that.

“Our bosses in New York just want access to your Canadian supplier. Tell him you’re ready to move into the harder stuff, and we’ll take care of the rest.”

They knew.

Pirro’s mouth grew dry. His side trade had happened accidentally after he’d married Vivian. He’d been good friends with her husband, and, after his passing, he began keeping Vivian company. Their friendship progressed to romance, they fell in love and Pirro quickly discovered his old friend’s tales about his insatiable wife were true. Pirro had a hard time keeping up with Vi, but he didn’t want to disappoint her in bed. He confided in his doctor, who gave him a sample of Viagra and Pirro discovered the little pill was magic. But he couldn’t fill a prescription and risk his Vivian finding out his stamina wasn’t naturally his.

A friend told him about a friend who had a friend across the border in Canada who could get Viagra cheap. Pirro contacted the man, and soon he was meeting him monthly to pick up more pills. His barbershop group noticed his good mood, he admitted what caused the change and soon he became the Viagra king of Hidden Falls, supplying his friends with Viagra and single-handedly helping the sex life
and maintaining the privacy of the town’s older male population. It was a harmless side business. But what these men wanted sounded
dangerous.

“Who told you about the Viagra?” he asked.

“That doesn’t matter. The point is, we know and we want in on your supplier and use of your trucks to ship to New York.”

“Who do you boys think you are, coming to my hometown and making demands?” Pirro straightened his shoulders, and though he was shorter than both men, he was bulky enough to be intimidating.

“We’re the guys you don’t say no to,” the blond guy said, unfazed.

“Well, I just did.”

“Sorry. Wrong answer,” the darker-haired one said.

“But we’ll tell you what. Since we’re here for a few days, take some time and think about it. I’m sure you’ll do the right thing.” He turned to his friend. “Let’s go get something to eat.”

Pirro shivered and watched them leave, telling himself they’d go back to the city after the festival and everything would be fine. He hadn’t totally convinced himself, but he couldn’t possibly get involved in illegal drugs.

He walked through town, stopping at various booths, waving to friends, most of whom he’d known for years. Many of whom were now his customers.
Pirro prided himself on taking care of the men in this town, men like him, who had erectile-dysfunction problems that a little pill called Viagra took care of.

Although Viagra was a prescription medication in the United States, most of his friends, like Pirro, didn’t want their wives to know about their little problem or lack of stamina. By purchasing across the border in Canada, there was no insurance involved, no paperwork, and best of all, no nosey Gertrude at the pharmacy to ring up their order and snitch to their wives. Pirro thought of supplying Viagra to his friends as a good deed. He didn’t mark up the pills or make a profit. He just made sure the men and women in town had their happy endings.

But what those two men wanted involved hard drugs, and, to make matters worse, they obviously wanted him to send those drugs to New York on company trucks for distribution in the city.

He shook his head and broke into a sweat. There had to be five kinds of felonies involved in what they were asking. No way would he agree, Pirro thought.

No way at all.

S
ARA STEPPED INTO
the shower, and as the spray hit her body, the exhaustion of the day slipped away and she found herself looking forward to the dance tonight. To her never-ending surprise, she loved the small town, the people, and the way Rafe’s family had welcomed her as if she were an old friend. Most of all, she liked the way Rafe looked at her when he thought she wasn’t aware. His dark eyes feasted on her body, and she reveled in the attention.

She tipped her head up and let the shower spray run over her face, washing away the grime of the day. She barely registered when the bathroom door opened, but she definitely knew when Rafe pushed the shower curtain aside and stepped into the tub along with her.

“Well, hi there,” she said, wiping the water out of her eyes.

He grinned. “Hi, yourself.” Taking the wet washcloth from her hand, he knelt at her feet. With deliberate precision, he started with her toes, running the soapy cloth over her ankles, then her calves, taking
his time. He let the soap accumulate and paused as the water washed it away. Slowly but surely he inched higher, teasing her as he rose ever closer to the juncture of her thighs.

She trembled at the sensual assault and closed her eyes as he continued. The washcloth, a mixture of soft and roughened material, glided up her thighs as high as possible, until his knuckles grazed her damp outer lips. She quivered and placed one hand against the tile wall for support.

Suddenly his thumb stroked her moist opening, and she nearly died from the sweetness of the feeling. As she leaned against the wall, he dropped the cloth and sealed his mouth over the place she needed him most. He worked magic with his hot tongue and gentle teeth.

She moaned and sank backward. The cold tile pressed against her skin while his tongue flickered back and forth, over and over, taking her higher and closer to a pulse-pounding orgasm that seemed just out of reach. She curled her fingers into her palms and thrust her pelvis toward him, seeking harder, deeper contact.

He understood and thrust one finger inside her.

“Yesss.” The word slipped out on a sharp hiss.

“I’ve got you,” he promised, his deep voice turning her on even more.

His long finger eased out, then in, out then in, until
Sara got lost in the sensation. She could no longer tell which felt better, his thick finger inside her or the pressure he applied outside. And then he rubbed his thumb over her clit and stars exploded behind her eyes, every nerve ending coming together, sending her into erotic, perfect oblivion.

When her awareness came back, Rafe was standing, one hand braced on the wall beside her, a satisfied grin on his handsome face.

Water, somehow still hot, pelted over them.

“You look as pleased as I feel,” she said.

“Not quite,” he said over a strained laugh. He leaned close and kissed her hard, his mouth sealing over hers.

She tasted herself on his lips, and that fast she wanted him again, this time inside her.

He pulled her against him, his hard member pressing deliciously into her stomach, pulsing with desire. “I need to be inside you.” As always, Rafe seemed to read her mind.

She threaded her hands through his wet hair. “Then what are you waiting for?”

“Your knee, my chest,” he reminded her.

She winced at the reminder of her injury, something she’d managed to place at the furthest recesses of her mind while she was here.

He slammed the water shut and opened the curtain.
Pulling a towel off a hook, he wrapped it around her, and somehow they made their way to the bed.

The towel fell to the floor. They dropped onto the bed. Rafe lay over her, his body covering hers, deliciously hot, sinfully sexy.

And then he paused to look into her eyes. The world fell away, and it was just the two of them. He brushed her hair off her face and kissed her lips, so softly and reverently, with a wealth of emotion she wasn’t ready to face. Would probably never be ready to deal with.

But she wanted him to know how much she desired him. She reached out and stroked his cheek. “Make love to me.”

A willing gleam flickered in his gaze. “I thought you’d never ask.”

He eased back, then slid in, his flesh hard yet velvety soft, tender yet demanding. Her entire body clenched tighter, and she felt him pulsing heavily inside her. She closed her eyes, memorizing his weight, the thickness of his member, the sheer perfection of their joining.

Rafe slid out of her body, then pushed back in, slowly out, harder in, faster and faster with each thrust, their bodies rocking together in unison. The friction grew, the tension increased and she climbed closer and closer to completion. Yet somehow her climax took her off guard as sparkling stars and
immense pleasure washed over her in wave after wave of perfection until he’d wrung every last sensation from her body and Sara went limp beneath him.

Rafe rolled off her, gasping for air. “Wow,” he said through ragged breaths.

“I’ll say.” She turned her head to meet his gaze. Her cheeks were pink and flushed.

He grinned. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

She laughed. “Please do.”

He swallowed hard. She was so damn hot and sexy. They clicked in bed like they did everywhere else.

But there was something they’d both forgotten in the heat of the moment. “We didn’t use protection.”

“I’m on the pill. And we’re both tested at work. It’s all good,” she murmured.

He wasn’t worried, which ought to worry him more. His cell phone rang, interrupting his thoughts, and he rolled over to check the number. “It’s the captain.”

He sat upright in bed. “Hey, boss.”

The other man yelled so even Sara could hear. “I thought I told her to lie low. How the hell could the damned Bachelor Blog find her all the way in Hidden Hell?”

“Hidden Falls,” Rafe reminded him.

Sara started to chuckle before the reality and seriousness of the situation struck her.

“The whole world knows I’m here?” she asked, horrified.

“The blog said she came to stay there at a place called Angel’s,” the captain said.

Son of a— “She’s not there anymore. She’s staying with me. It’s a lot safer.”

“Well, tell her to be careful!” the captain bellowed.

“I’ll take care of her, boss,” Rafe promised, his gaze never leaving Sara’s.

Well, maybe it left her gaze so he could take in the sight of her naked body, gorgeous breasts, large nipples…

“And if I find out anything about Morley, I’ll let you know,” the captain said, breaking into Rafe’s fantasy. “But I’d suggest being extra careful. Just in case his men track her there.” The man muttered a curse and disconnected the call.

Rafe put the phone on the dresser. He turned to reach for Sara to find her already there, climbing onto his lap.

“Someone told the Bachelor Blogger I’m here?” she asked.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tight. “Looks like it. But to be fair, nobody here knew you were in hiding.”

She pursed her lips. “I haven’t noticed any dangerous-looking strangers around town.”

He shook his head. “You wouldn’t know a stranger
from a local,” he reminded her, laughing, but he sobered quickly.

“We should stay home tonight.”

“No, we should not! I’m not going to stop living my life.”

“I know. I had to suggest it anyway.”

She exhaled a long breath. “If someone’s after me, they’ll find me here or in town, but I won’t sit home in fear. Besides, there’s safety in numbers.”

“And I’ll be sticking to you like glue. Nobody will get near you tonight.”

And Rafe was a man of his word.

T
HE ANNUAL DANCE
went along with the annual festival set on the great lawn on Main Street, across the street from the row of shops. Over the years, the bands who’d played as entertainment had run the gamut from unknown locals to an
American Idol
finalist who’d returned to his hometown to perform. This year boasted a pop band with a good reputation, and the lawn was jam-packed. Unlike Sara, Rafe knew exactly who belonged in town and who didn’t. But he had no idea which, if any stranger, wanted to hurt her.

He glanced around, assessing the scene. The older generation had brought lawn chairs to sit in while they listened, teens were grouped together near the makeshift stage and the rest of the town had gathered to mingle or dance.

Rafe and Sara stood together, listening to the pop music. He slipped his hand inside hers, ignoring the tug of emotion that said she belonged there, and pulled her closer beside him.

“Let’s dance,” she said, turning toward him and wrapping her arms around his neck.

“That’s one way for me to stick close.” He slid his hands around her waist, and they began to move to the music.

With a soft sigh, she snuggled closer, resting her head on his shoulder. The emotional kick in his gut grew stronger.

“This is nice,” she murmured.

“I’ll say.” He breathed in deep and took in the light, sexy scent of her perfume.

Her lithe body slid sensuously against him. Though she was toned and in shape, she was still soft and womanly in all the right places, and he curled his fingers into the indent of her waist. He was totally aroused as they swayed to the sound of the band.

“Are you always in town for the festival?” she asked, oblivious to his physical reaction.

“When I can make it. I usually come up here for a week or two every summer, so if I can time it right, I do.” Summertime was when he tried to be here most often to enjoy his house on the lake.

“And who would your dance partner be if I weren’t here?” Sara not-so-subtly asked.

He laughed. “I usually just hang out with my family or old friends.”

“You never brought Kim up here for the festival?” she asked of his ex-fiancée.

Was that a touch of jealousy he heard in her voice, or was it mere wishful thinking? He wasn’t surprised the subject had finally come up. They’d never really talked about it before. Then again, they’d never had sex before, either. He supposed more personal things were part of the deal. Even if he’d already put that part of his life behind him.

He turned his focus to Sara’s question. “I never brought Kim up here at all.”

“Mind if I ask why?”

“Not at all.” He just didn’t know how to sort through it all in order to explain.

Sara clasped her hands behind his head and moved her hips sinuously against his.

He found it difficult to concentrate on another woman with Sara in his arms, but she’d asked, so he forced himself to remember. He’d fallen fast and hard for Kim. She was sexy and had focused all her attention on him. He hadn’t wanted to share her with his family and their nosey questions—the complete opposite of how he felt about Sara, he realized with no small amount of shock. He liked having her here in his personal environment and space.

But he had no time to linger on that thought. Sara
was waiting for a reply. “In the beginning of the relationship, I was too busy at SWAT to come visit here,” he said at last. “And I didn’t want to share her with everyone and the craziness that came along with visiting. Or at least that’s what I thought at the time.”

But he realized now that while he’d believed he was consumed with Kim, it had been a sexual thing, not an emotional one. He got the difference now, thanks to Sara.

“What happened after?” Sara asked.

They both knew she was no longer referring to why he’d never brought Kim here, but to the end of the relationship.

He exhaled hard. “I’m not sure. I know I enjoyed her company and being in a committed relationship. And in the beginning, so had she.” They shared the same taste in movies, in television shows, and though they both worked hard, they both wanted a family.

Eventually.

It was just that eventually became further and further away, at least for Kim. Something he didn’t want to mention to Sara and risk bringing up their differences. As for Kim, they’d never set a wedding date, and though he’d pushed at first, she’d resisted. Because she was younger and wanted to focus on her career. He understood, and he’d had no problem easily letting her off the hook. Too easily. Because when the
excitement had worn off, he just hadn’t cared enough, and obviously neither had she.

“We both led active but parallel lives that rarely crossed paths,” he summed up for Sara.

If he’d been too busy with work to romance Kim, she’d been too focused on her career at an ad agency in New York to spend much time with him. And neither had seemed to care.

Sara remained respectfully silent, letting him gather his thoughts, but he couldn’t tear his gaze from her big brown eyes and lips he wanted desperately to kiss.

And he would, as soon as he ended this conversation. “I think Kim and I stayed together as long as we did because neither one of us asked much of the other. In the end we were comfortable, but we weren’t in love.”

Sara threaded her fingers through the back of his hair, and he felt the tug directly where it mattered most—reminding him that if he’d really loved Kim, his interest in his partner would have died down. He wouldn’t have been so tempted by Sara that he’d had to put distance and another shift between them.

He drew a deep breath. “I think Kim knew as well as I did, convenience wasn’t love. The end came too civilly and easily.”

Sara nodded slowly. “I’m sorry.”

He met her gaze, looking deep into her eyes. “I’m not.”

Silent understanding passed between them, sexually charged and undeniably hot, and she shifted her gaze over his shoulder, obviously unnerved by the emotional connection she couldn’t deny.

What pleased him frightened her.

While he was being drawn deeper every minute, she was building walls.

Which meant he was at a crucial point. As a negotiator, he knew when to push hard and when to back off no matter what
he
wanted. And Rafe now knew sex with Sara would never be enough.

If he wanted to break through her defenses, he’d have to step up his game slowly but surely. Not overwhelm her when she was wary and hesitant. And yet he had to face facts. Even if he did everything right, he might not win. So he had to ask himself if, knowing that, he was willing to let down his guard and risk his heart.