He would not break his word to her. He would not ask for sex.
But if she offered?
No. That answer was clear. And solid.
Because Kerry had told him that while she might not be strong enough to resist him, she’d hate herself later for not doing so.
She needed him to have her back. Had given him a chance to be her best friend again, for a moment.
He would die before he messed that up.
* * *
She was never going to look at T-shirts and flannel pants in the same way again. She’d see them on a store display and immediately think of Rafe’s solid, muscular thighs. And the apex of them. It was like she was obsessed.
Taking a break from the dining room and his overwhelmingly alive presence she made a stop in her private bathroom and then changed into a T-shirt and pair of jeans. More comfortable. Not the sweats and bra-less-ness she’d have chosen were she home alone.
She debated taking her hair down, but she never did that when she was working. It got in the way, hanging over her shoulder, lying around on the computer keys and papers in front of her.
But Rafe liked it down. He’d told her so the other night. In the bed that was only feet away from where she stood. The last time they’d been together as kids, the day they’d shared their first kiss, she’d been complaining about her hair. She’d had a big knot at the base of her neck; getting out the tangles had practically made her cry. She’d told him she wanted to chop it all off.
He’d said he’d love her the same either way, and she’d pressed him for his personal opinion.
“Never cut it.” She remembered his words so clearly. And the next ones, too. “It’s kind of like silk and when I touch it, I...feel...things.”
He’d been so young. And heartbreakingly honest.
She pulled out the band holding her hair back. Glanced in the mirror. Met her own expression, and put the band back in.
The past was past.
And maybe it was time to cut her hair.
“I was sorry to hear about your dad,” Rafe said, the conversation out of the blue, as she walked back into the dining room.
She’d spent the last several minutes living in the past. How did he know that? He couldn’t possibly know that. Which meant he was there, too.
Was she wrong to deny what was so clearly calling out to both of them?
But to what end?
Yeah, they’d been kids. First loves were potent. And it hadn’t ended of their own accord. Not really. But it hadn’t been strong enough to bring Rafe back to her once they were adults.
She kept getting stuck there.
And every instinct she had told her it was for good reason.
“I was in grad school,” he said when she crossed over to her chair and sat back down. “I would have been back for his funeral, but...”
“There was no reason for a Colton heir to attend a ranch hand’s funeral,” she said, and was surprised at the lack of bitterness in her tone. Maybe this time with him, as hard as it was, loving him but not able to open her heart and live the love, really was helping her put the past to rest. To get over the pain and move on.
He eyed her for a moment, and she could tell the exact second he let whatever he’d been feeling go. He pointed to some printed copies of aerial photos of Mustang Mountain. “I was just thinking...there are mines in these mountains,” he said. “We’ve got abandoned mineshafts all over the desert. There was an item recently in the news about that cross-country runner who fell in one...”
And her father had fallen to his death in one. Of course, he’d been drunk and out at night, but...
Rafe wasn’t focusing on their danger at the moment...
“You think the weapons, or drugs, or whatever we aren’t meant to find are in one of these,” she said.