The smile on her makeup-free face, the playful spark in her eyes, and the slightly rumpled hair all made for an irresistible picture of a happy woman. If simple days like this made her shine so bright, maybe Mickie could live in Vermont long term. Perhaps she really had changed her life in a permanent way.
He nearly snorted out loud. That was the trap right there. Get comfortable. Start hoping. Start believing.
Then the ax would fall, and he’d be left bleeding inside.
Again.
Fuck that. He had an impenetrable cage around his heart for a reason and no plans to locate the key. No matter how gorgeous the woman. Or how well she got along with his family. Or how many times she made him smile and laugh. Or how hot it was to bury himself inside her…
Shit, he needed to stop his mind from spiraling.
“What’s wrong?” Mickie tilted her head at him. “What’s that look fo—oh!”
He snagged her around the waist and yanked her flush against him, cutting her off with his mouth. She tasted of vanilla from that fancy coffee shit she made with her ridiculous machine.
As if he possessed everything she’d ever need, Mickie melted against him, moaning into his mouth. He filled his hands with her ass and held her close as he ground his erection against her.
“Fuck the dishes,” she whispered, breathless right before kissing him again.
Some sound in the distance almost halted him, but with the way his ears were rushing from the surge of arousal, drowning it out was too easy.
“Sorry, honey, just me. I forgot my pho—oh well, hello there.” Ralph’s amused voice had Mickie jumping back with a squeak.
Her face turned beet red and she pressed the back of her hand to her shiny lips—the lips he’d ravaged and made swollen with his own.
“Puh-lease,” Ralph said as Keith turned around. “Do not stop on my account.” He propped his hip against the kitchen island. “I’ll just, you know, watch.” He winked and smirked. On a typical day, the smug gleam in Ralph’s eye would have driven Keith up a wall, but he was feeling pretty chill and only snorted.
Mickie started laughing. “You’ll need to find someone else to perv over today. Get your phone and go.”
Ralph’s eyebrows winged up. “So you can go back to kissing?” he sing-songed.
Now it was Keith’s turn to laugh. “No wonder you get along with my family. Ballbusters, all of you.”
Ralph opened his mouth, no doubt to shoot off some snarky comment about balls, but Mickie beat him to it, winging a potholder at his head.
He dodged the flying missile with a bark of laughter. “Okay, all right, I’m going.” He snatched his phone off the counter with a flourish before blowing a kiss Mickie’s way. “Caio!”
The second he left the room, Keith tugged Mickie close again. Just the feel of her fully clothed against him in a non-sexual hold had him fired up more than any woman had in years. “I believe—”
“I’m assuming you told him, right, Mickie?” Ralph yelled right before the door slammed shut.
Mickie’s shoulders slumped, and she groaned.
Told him? “Told me what?” Dread crawled up his spine with icy fingers.
Her face screwed up, and she mumbled. “Freakin’ Ralph.”
Fuck, it happened already. She’d been offered a script she couldn’t turn away from. He took a step back as his insides froze.
She reached for him. “It’s nothing. We can talk about it later. Ralph is just being his usual dramatic self.”
“Tell me,” he barked, then winced as her eyes flared and her hand dropped to her side. “Sorry. That came out rougher than I meant.” He took another step away. Being close to her muddled his thinking. All he wanted to do was sink into her sweetness, and if she was about to crush him with another secret, he needed his shields in place.
Mickie sighed. “Fine. I really didn’t want to do this now and ruin this amazing morning.” With a small smile, she grabbed his hand, keeping him from putting even more distance between them. Even the small touch spread through him, making him crave skin when he should have been focusing on her words instead of the heat between them.
With more mental strength than he’d thought possible, he blocked out the desire and focused on what she was about to say.
Here it comes.
Steeling his heart as much as possible, he clenched his teeth and tried not to break the bones in her hand with the force of his grip.
“Ralph and I had breakfast at the diner the morning he got here and when we were leaving,” —she shifted her eyes away then back to his— “that guy from the day I was in your shop— Chuck? —was waiting at my car.”
“Look, I expected this to—wait, what?” What the hell did she just say? Chuck? This wasn’t a warning of one final obligation that would take her back to LA?