“So, tell me about yourself, Carson,” May says and Carson shrugs.

“Not much to tell, Miss.”

“Don’t let him lie to you,” I say, looking over at Carson.

But he shrugs again. “Wouldn’t interest the lady,” he says, and I wonder why it feels like I missed something.

“I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t curious,” May says, keeping her eyes off me as she speaks.

“Perhaps another time, then,” Carson says respectfully. He gets up and washes his glass as I study May. When he leaves, I sense she’s ready to talk to me.

“I’ll do it,” she says, still carefully avoiding my stare.

But I need to know something. “Do you really understand what you’re agreeing to?” I ask, stepping close to her. She looks up at me, and I can see the thud of her heart against her breast bone.

She nods, her pretty lower lip trembling a bit as she stares up at me. I grab her and pull her close. “I’ll have to touch you,” I say, knowing that my father will expect us to act like we’re in love. “They’ll expect us to look like we’re in love.” I find I like how she feels pressed up against me like this.

She nods, still mute.

“I’ll need to be close to you.” I touch her cheek with my free hand. Her eyes drift closed as if she’s really feeling me for the first time. I feel my body respond to her and I let it. As I expected, she jolts a bit as my hard cock presses into her belly.

Before she can tell me no, I press my lips to hers. She’s sweet and tart, like orange juice and maple syrup. Like sin and surrender. Like everything I’ve ever craved and have never tasted.

Her lips part and my tongue traces the pretty curve of her lower lip. She’s so delicious. So sweet and warm. I want more. More. All of her. Everything she’s willing to give.

My cock pulses and her arms slip around my shoulders.

Is this okay?” I murmur against her lips. In response, she shivers, her whole body responding to me. I grab her ass in both hands and she sucks in a deep breath as if shocked by my crass action. But she doesn’t say no. She doesn’t pull away. No, she melts into me.

Her lips press to mine, and I kiss her, my heart aching with the sweetness and innocence of her kiss.

And I realize that if I don’t back off, I’m going to take her right here on the kitchen table. And that wouldn’t be good. There’s always a chance someone will walk in. Unwillingly, I back off, holding her upright until she finds her balance.

Her blue eyes meet mine and I have to explain myself. “I’d hate for someone to walk in,” I say, and she nods.

“Was it too much, too far?” I ask, needing to hear her say it’s okay if only for the selfish reason that I want to kiss her again and need her permission.

She shakes her head, mute.

Her eyes are wide on mine, and I know there’s something else. So I wait until she’s ready to talk. There’s nothing to be gained by pushing her. I want her to know I’ll wait and listen until she’s ready to talk. I made myself clear that I want her to be honest, candid, and know she can trust me with anything.

“I don’t want to hurt Grace.” Her tiny voice is enough to tell me she’s afraid. I’m not sure of what; if she’s afraid of hurting Grace or my reaction to this revelation.

“I don’t either. I thought we’d tell them that it’s a secret so she doesn’t wind up hurt. It also explains her not knowing you for very long. We can say we’ve been seeing each other for a while and didn’t bring you into her life until it was serious.”

A small smile tugs the corners of her lips. “You’ve thought this through, haven’t you?” she says, her eyes dancing.

“I make Grace my number one priority,” I say, and she dips her head in what looks like respect. “Now,” I say and her head lifts so she can focus those beautiful eyes on me once more. “I said I’d teach you to shoot.”

She nods and I take the gun from over the front door and take her out. We’ve got a dedicated wall for practice. It’s into the side of a little mountain that’s all dirt. I show her how to load it and turn off the safety before showing her how to stand.

When she’s ready, I have her hold it and she pulls the trigger.

The paper target is instantly peppered with buckshot and she turns to me, her face lit up even as she lowers the barrel of the gun to the ground.

“Looks like you’re a natural,” I tell her and her eyes darken with something that looks like worry. Again, I get the feeling that something is bothering her. She turns and looks toward her car like there’s someone there.

“Now you know you can keep yourself safe,” It tell her. Once more, her eyes stray to her car and I wonder what she’s thinking. Who is chasing her? What is she running from? Or who is she running from?

The thought of any harm coming to her makes my guts twist and I see red. If anyone wants to hurt her, they’ll have to go through me.