Sage Creek (16 page)

“My aunt Dorothy . . . she suggested I come see you. She wouldn’t give me your phone number, she just said something about you being back in town and—” He broke off, flushing. And glancing at Rafe, who was watching him in silence.

“Were you two . . . on a date?” Roger asked peevishly.

“That’s none of your business,” Rafe said.

“No, we weren’t.” Sophie shook her head. “I think there was a misunderstanding, Roger. I’m not dating. Anyone.”

“Well, then, why did my aunt—” He scowled. Glanced again at Rafe, tall and implacable in front of him. Suspicion flickered in his square, pugnacious face. “If you weren’t on a date, then why are you with
him
?”

“She doesn’t owe you any explanations, Hendricks.”

“We weren’t on a date. I’m not dating,” Sophie repeated quickly. “I think you should go, Roger. It’s late.”

He opened his mouth to argue, being a belligerent sort by nature, but one look into Rafe Tanner’s eyes made his lips snap together.

“Fine. I’m gone. I was never here. Maybe I’ll see you . . . in town, Sophie,” he added. He gave her a smile, which Sophie was sure he thought charismatic, but it was a little too sure of itself and bordered on creepy.

The smile evaporated though when he glanced at Rafe. Turning on his heel, Hendricks stalked back to his rig and clambered in.

Rafe didn’t take his eyes off the man until he disappeared inside the cab. “I’ll walk you inside.”

As Sophie and Tidbit crossed the porch and entered the ranch house ahead of him, Rafe held back, keeping an eye on the rig until Hendricks had backed all the way down Daisy Lane and roared off.

“What was that all about?” he asked as he followed Sophie into the brightly lit kitchen.

“My grandmother and her friends.” She set a bowl of kibble on the floor for Tidbit. “They’re pushing me to start dating. Apparently, they’re determined to make my life miserable. Don’t you dare laugh,” she warned, as a grin spread across Rafe’s face.

“The road to hell is paved with good intentions.”

“Tell me about it.” The faint melody of the wind chime tinkled its sweet music through the kitchen window. But all she could think of was Rafe.

He looked so good, standing there, all dark and rugged and male. She needed to fight the pull of attraction that was making her linger here with him, when she knew she should ask him to leave.

But he’d stopped to help her, given her a ride home, and yes, scared off Roger Hendricks by his mere size and presence.

She didn’t want him to leave.

She wanted him to stay....

The worst thing she could do was give in to the impulses that made her want to wrap her arms around Rafe’s neck and kiss him again. Right here in the kitchen.

This couldn’t be the same stupid pull of attraction that had betrayed her into kissing him all those years ago, could it? It had to be a new pull.

And she didn’t want a new pull. Toward anyone. And especially not toward him.

“I don’t suppose I could trouble you for a cup of coffee?”

He leaned against the counter, relaxed and gorgeous.

How could she say no after what he’d done tonight? It would be just plain rude to refuse the man a cup of coffee, kick him out the door.

“Of course. Sorry. Decaf or regular?”

“Loaded.” His grin this time was slow, heart-stopping. “Hit me with everything you’ve got.”

His words triggered a mental image of the two of them upstairs on her old bed, locked together in wild, frantic sex.

“You’re on.”

She busied herself measuring out coffee, setting out mugs and napkins on the table. Because she couldn’t resist, she brought out the sugar cookies Gran had sent home with her this afternoon, setting them on a plate.

“Why’d you leave the hospital today without seeing Lissie?”

His question caught her by surprise and she turned to stare at him as the coffee brewed, the aroma filling the kitchen.

“I knew I’d see her tonight when I brought supper over. I wanted to give all of you more time to visit.”

“Lissie loves you like a sister, Sophie. You weren’t intruding.” He eased away from the counter, ambled toward her. “I doubt you ever could.”

What did that mean?

Rafe smiled at her questioning look. He forced himself to stop right in front of her, close but not too close. If he moved only a few inches closer, her breasts would be pressed against his chest. Their hips would be almost touching. He’d be able to smell the fragrance of her hair.

In that pale blue sweater and jeans, her toffee hair loose and flowing around her face, she looked more beautiful than ever, and damned kissable.

And ever since they’d rolled down Daisy Lane in his truck tonight, he’d had one thing on his mind. Kissing Sophie McPhee.

Don’t do it,
a voice inside his head warned. The smart, mature, post-Lynelle voice. But he was no longer listening. Maybe a part of the reckless boy he’d once been was back, haunting him, taking over the solid, sensible man he’d become. Instinct was taking over.

A raw primal instinct.

Every fiber of his male being was telling him to kiss this warm, beautiful woman who’d been right under his nose for most of his life.

“You fit, Sophie. Wherever you go. With the Tanners, with this town. There’s something about you. You’re easy to be around. To have around. In some ways,” he added softly.

Her breath caught in her throat. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she finally managed to ask.

He gently took her by the arms and backed her up against the wall. “It means I’m finding it anything but easy being around you right now. Without kissing you, that is.”

Sophie stared into his eyes. Her heart began to hammer so loudly she was sure he could hear it.

“We don’t want to go there,” she whispered.

“Speak for yourself.” With a grin that could have melted North Pole icicles, Rafe wrapped his arms around her waist. “I have to tell you the truth. Ever since I saw you at the Double Cross, I’ve been wondering what it would be like. To kiss you for real this time. Just one kiss. The last time, you were doing all the heavy lifting. This time will be different.”

Will be?
Sophie thought, dazed.

Just go for it,
a tiny voice inside her prodded.
Rafe Tanner wants to kiss you. What are you waiting for? One kiss.

It wouldn’t mean anything and it wouldn’t lead to anything and maybe if she just got it out of her system—got
him
out of her system—one kiss would be enough. There was nothing between them, of course, no feelings. And they weren’t going to start having some crazy affair and bring full-blown sex in to complicate everything. It was just one kiss....

“Do you always overthink everything?” Amusement tinged his voice. “You didn’t when you were fifteen.”

“I’ve changed a lot since I was fifteen. In case you haven’t noticed.” She tipped her head back, almost dizzy, and stared up into that wickedly handsome face she’d fallen in love with when she was a completely different person, a foolish young girl, knowing nothing of the world.

And listening only to the wildness of her heart.

“I need to think. I
should
think, but I don’t want to,” she murmured suddenly. His midnight eyes lit with surprise—and laughter. She grasped his shirt front, yanked him closer. “Don’t let me think, Rafe. I’m so damned tired of thinking. And I don’t want to—not right now.”

Rafe didn’t need to be asked twice, having been brought up to oblige a lady.

His mouth brushed hers. Gently at first, then the kiss deepened as her lips parted, welcoming him, no,
beckoning
him, and he lost himself in the musky sweetness of her. It was a kiss of rose petals and dynamite. Softness and sex.

Her mouth was hot, willing, delectable. The peachsweet taste and scent of her filled him, and a dark heat spread through him, wild as a mountain fire. When her arms encircled his neck, Rafe gripped her closer, angled his hips against hers, and slipped his tongue deeper inside her mouth.

He was met with a whimper of pleasure and a ferocious sweep of her tongue against his. She melted against him, and everything else faded away—the kitchen, the smell of fresh coffee, the solid old ranch house where they stood together in a whirlwind of heat.

He deepened the kiss, his hands roving over her body, slipping beneath her sweater. Inside her low-cut bra to cup her breast. She moaned in pleasure and he pushed her backward then, pressing her against the wall.

And that’s when he heard the car door slam.

Sophie heard it at the same time. The sound ripped her from a daze of exploding pleasure so intense she could barely focus, but that thudding door, and one quick bark from Tidbit, had her cursing fate and shoving him away.

The sound of her mother’s voice reached her . . . and then she heard Mr. Hartigan. Gravel crunched—a car was backing out of Daisy Lane....

Why hadn’t she heard it coming
down
the lane?

Never mind, she knew why.

“Oh, God.” She yanked her sweater down, pressed her hands to her hot cheeks. With a low groan, Rafe made a beeline for the kitchen chair as the front door opened with a faint creak.

“Sophie?” As her mother sailed into the kitchen, Rafe stood up, as casual as if he’d been stopping by for years at the McPhees’ to chat on a daily basis.

“Oh. Rafe.” She stared at him in surprise. “You know, I thought that looked like your truck.”

“Nice to see you, Ms. McPhee.”

Diana glanced between Sophie and Rafe for three long beats, which made Sophie’s nerves jangle, but her mother didn’t say anything else, except to ask Rafe how Ivy was doing.

That’s when Sophie trusted her voice enough to fill her in about Lissie spending most of the day at the hospital.

“But she and the baby are okay? Will she be up for the shower next Saturday?” She turned to Sophie, who was now pouring coffee into Rafe’s mug. “Perhaps you and Mia should consider postponing it.”

“She doesn’t want anything postponed, Mom. And you know, Lissie. Once she makes up her mind, there’s no changing it. Besides, the doctor says she’ll be fine. Would you like some coffee?”

“At this hour? No, I’m going on up to bed. But where’s your Blazer, Sophie?”

“Languishing on Squirrel Road. Waiting to hitch a ride with a tow truck.”

It was Rafe who explained about the flat tires. Sophie could barely concentrate enough to remember to turn off the coffeemaker. Her lips still felt hot, and her entire body was jangling with sensation.

“Four flat tires?” Her mother frowned. “That’s very strange.”

“It was just some kid, pulling a prank, Mom.”

“A pretty serious prank, if you ask me. Rafe, it’s lucky you happened along.”

“Always happy to help a lady.”

Diana looked from one to the other of them. She suddenly turned toward the stairs. “Time for me to turn in. Good night, Rafe, Sophie. See you in the morning, dear,” she added.

When her mother had disappeared upstairs, Sophie closed her eyes and sagged back against the counter.

When she opened them, Rafe was watching her, a grin on his face. He looked unruffled, handsomer than sin, and completely at ease.

“That was close,” he said.

“You think this is funny?”

“Don’t you?”

Not one bit
. She had to break loose from the spell he’d cast over her, and she quickly moved away, gathering the coffee cups, bringing them to the sink.

Rafe had barely touched his coffee. He’d only touched her. The trouble was, she wanted him to touch her again. Touch her more . . .

“Shannon’s folks will be dropping Ivy off soon.” He sounded regretful. “I need to be home when she gets there. But for the record”—he moved close to her and lowered his voice—“that was some kiss.” He couldn’t help grinning at her. “I guess now we’re even.”

“Hardly.” It took all of Sophie’s willpower not to look away from those dangerous blue eyes that had the power to mesmerize her. “I can’t believe you brought that up. Or even that you remember.”

“Believe it. You’re pretty unforgettable.”

Rafe Tanner was flirting with her.

Sophie fought the urge to throw caution to the winds, twine her arms around his neck, and kiss him again. To seize his hand and run with him out to his truck. Or into the night.

And to do what? Strip off her clothes, then his? Have wild monkey sex with him beneath the stars?

She was crazy. She’d finally done it, she’d lost her mind.

“This isn’t happening,” she said suddenly, panic rushing through her. She managed to speak calmly, though the way he was looking at her was setting her blood on fire. “I mean it, Rafe. We shouldn’t do this—whatever
this
is. We have to forget what happened tonight.”

“I’m not sure I can do that.” His eyes glinted as he brushed a strand of hair from her face, studying her in silence. “Can you?”

“Yes.” She said it too quickly though. He pulled her closer.

“I don’t believe you.”

“You should.”

She stared into his eyes for a long moment. Rafe brushed his knuckles gently along her cheek.

“I won’t push you, Sophie. You decide when—if—you want to do this—any of this—again.” That heart-stopping grin that spread upward to light his eyes made her heart start to race. “But I can promise I’m going to try like hell to convince you.”

Without another word, he walked out of the kitchen. She heard the gentle thud of the front door.

Chapter Eleven