When her head fell back in surrender, her hands slid limply down his arms, he eased back.
"That's so you remember which MacKade you're with now."
She had to remind herself to breathe. "What was your name again?"
He grinned, then closed his teeth over her sensitized bottom lip. "Tell you what. Why don't we skip necking on the couch and go try out the back seat of my car?"
"That's quite an offer." It was fascinating to feel her own head spin. "I think I'll take you up on it."
Rafe let himself into the Barlow house at midnight. He'd recognized the car at the top of the lane, and he wasn't surprised to find Jared in the parlor, brooding over a beer.
"Foreclosing already, Lawyer MacKade?"
Instead of rising to the bait, Jared stared down at his beer. "I put my house on the market today. Didn't feel like staying there."
Rafe grunted, sat down on his sleeping bag to pull off his boots. He knew the dark moods, often had them himself. Either he'd manage to shake Jared out of it, or they'd both ride through it.
"Never liked that house, no personality. Just like your ex-wife."
It was so cold, and so true, Jared had to laugh. "Decent investment, though. I'll make a profit."
Rafe shook his head at the beer Jared held out. "They don't taste the same without a smoke. Besides, I gotta be up in six and a half hours. I was going to come look for you," he added.
"Oh? Why?"
"To beat the hell out of you." With a yawn, Rafe lay back. "It'll have to wait till tomorrow. I'm too relaxed."
"Okay. Any particular reason?"
"You kissed my woman." Rafe figured he had just about enough energy to strip off his pants. . "I did?" Jaied tossed his legs up over the settee. A slow smile curved his lips. "Oh, yeah. Oh, yeah..." he said again, with more feeling. "It's all coming back to me. When'd she get to be your woman?"
Rafe heaved his jeans aside, s
tarted on his shirt. "That's what comes from living in the city. You're out of the loop, bro. She's mine now."
"Does she know that?"
"I know." With his eyes dosed, he dragged the sleeping bag over him. "I'm thinking about keeping her."
Jared choked on his beer. "You mean like a wife?"
"I mean like keeping her," Rafe repeated. No way was he going to try to get his tongue around a word like wife. "Keeping things the way they are now."
This was interesting, Jared mused. And even more fun than brooding. "And how are things now?"
"Things are good." Rafe could smell her on the quilted material of the sleeping bag. "I'm still going to have to break your face. It's the principle."
"Understood." Jared stretched out, settled back. "Then again, I never did pay you back for talking Sharilyn Bester, now Fenniman, into riding out to the quarry with you to skinny-dip."
"I was just easing her broken heart after you'd dumped her."
"Yeah. But it's the principle."
Considering, Rafe scratched his face. "You got a point. But Sharilyn, pretty as she is, is no Regan Bishop."
"I never got to see Regan naked."
"That's why you're still breathing." Rafe shifted, folded his arms under his head. "Maybe we'll call it even."