The Way You Look Tonight (The Sullivans #9)(58)

He moved from the boxes he was putting together to wrap his arms around her from behind. He rested his chin on the top of her head and loved the way she immediately relaxed back into his arms and chest. "I’m not going anywhere."

She turned her face to his, and he caught her lips in a soft kiss. Before she could spin around in his arms and convince him to ruin their hard work by lifting her up onto the counter to take her again in another rush of unquenchable desire, he moved his hands to her shoulders and began to give her a massage.

"Oh God. Please don’t stop doing that."

He grinned as he dug his fingers just a little harder into her muscles. "I’m glad it feels good."

"So, so good." Her eyes had closed and her head fell forward as she let herself enjoy every second of the impromptu massage. "A short-order cook, a poet, and now a masseur. You’re so good at everything you do."

He pressed a kiss to her head. "You must inspire greatness in me."

She rubbed her hips against his groin. "I wonder what else I can inspire?"

"As soon as we get the rest of these chocolates made and out the door, we can find out," he promised her, before reluctantly lifting his hands and stepping away from her gorgeous, extremely inspiring curves to get back to work on filling truffle boxes.

The sky was dark, the moon only a sliver now. As they worked, its reflection on the surface of the water outside moved across the lake until it was replaced by the rising sun.

"No doubt about it," she said as they put together the last handful of boxes, "I’m officially too old for all-nighters. Thank you for helping. I couldn’t have even come close to pulling this off without you."

"You wouldn’t have been this far behind without me, either."

"We’re having another one of our silly arguments again," she said with a little smile. "Come on and let’s get these delivered so that we can get back to being inspired, instead."

People were going to wonder—and assume—when they saw him with Brooke this morning. It was a small, tight-knit town. He hadn’t been a part of it for the past eighteen years, but he hadn’t forgotten how it worked. Word had likely spread like wildfire that he’d bought the lake house his family used to own, and he doubted his dinner or motorcycle ride with Brooke had gone unnoticed, either.

The locals would wonder how on earth he’d gotten to be the luckiest bastard on the planet. But more than that, they’d want to know if he was even close to good enough for one of their own.

They were the exact two things Rafe kept wondering himself.

* * *

Four hours later, Brooke was asleep in the passenger seat as he drove her car back up the long gravel driveway between the Douglas firs that led to both their houses. They’d driven to the main shopping areas of the three towns closest to the lake and delivered chocolates to every gift store, grocery, sweet shop, and ice cream stand. He’d been momentarily surprised when Brooke stopped in at the police and fire stations with free boxes of chocolate. It was a brilliant marketing idea, and he’d seen the incredible goodwill everyone in town had for her, but that wasn’t why she did it. She simply wanted to show her appreciation for the difficult and important work the cops and firefighters did.

He’d run into guys at the stations he hadn’t seen in years, and while they’d clearly been glad to see him again, he’d also felt the weight of their silent warning: Screw around with Brooke and you’re screwing around with all of us. On top of that, more than one of them had clearly been upset that he’d stolen the prettiest girl in town out from under their noses. Knowing just how many guys would have been more than willing to be "wild" with her had Rafe feeling even more possessive and protective of her.

His sister had been right: Summer flings never worked out the way they were supposed to. Maybe, he found himself thinking as he unbuckled Brooke’s seatbelt, then lifted her out of the car, that was because sometimes they worked out even better.

She nuzzled her face into his neck as he carried her inside. Laying her down on her bed, he intended to gently strip her clothes off without waking her up, but she wouldn’t let go of him.

"It’s time to be inspired."

Her whispered words in his ear had him growing even harder than he’d already been just from holding her in his arms. She inspired not only deep desire, but also emotions he would have been on guard against with anyone but her.

Brooke had slipped in beneath his defenses, not just with sweet kisses and incredibly hot lovemaking, but with her constant smiles and laughter that jumped like a cannonball into the dark spots inside of him and splashed them with light.

"I’m always inspired when I’m with you."

Her eyes fluttered up, arousal quickly edging out the sleepiness. "Show me."

Her mouth was so damned soft, her tongue so sweet, that all he could manage to show her was the fact that he couldn’t resist her.

Every time they’d made love had been special. Perfect. Wild. This was their first time for sleepy and slow, her body like melting butter beneath his.

How many other ways would there be to love her?

It was a question he knew he’d enjoy trying to answer every day for the rest of his life.

Her skin smelled like chocolate, and he breathed her in all over as he slowly stripped her clothes away and ran kisses from her temple down to the brightly painted tips of her toes. She stretched like a contented, sleepy kitten beneath his increasingly heated caresses, purring like one, too, every time he found a particularly sensitive spot with his tongue.