I don’t need to turn to know Sean has entered the restaurant and has pinned with me those turbulent green eyes of his. I feel him long before I see him. Every nerve in my body jumps, comes alive under his dark stare.

As need sings through my veins, I strive to make my legs work and carry the bowls of pasta to my last table. I try to ignore all six feet of him standing there, oozing testosterone that is messing with the greedy spot between my legs, but that would be like standing in the middle of a highway and pretending an eighteen wheeler wasn’t about to mow me down. I turn, unable to help myself, and catch him staring.

My insides tighten. What is it about a guy in jeans and work boots that gets to me? Correction. What is it about Sean in jeans and work boots that gets to me? His brothers are dressed the same, but I only see Sean.

“I’m not done with you.”

As his parting words dance around inside my brain, my entire body quakes, but no way, no how can we finish what we started here at the bar. His brothers stop to talk to Beck, and when Sean lowers that big hard body into one of the wooden chairs in the corner, I figure it’s as good a time as any to talk to him about his grandmother’s visit. I’m sure he’ll make this right so I don’t have to go. Deep down I don’t want to go. Not one little bit.

Okay, maybe a tiny little bit—or a lot.

But I can’t go there with Sean. I can’t get involved with him like that. He’s not asking for more and I have trouble nipping at my heels.

As I approach his table, I see a Starbucks cup in his hands. My steps slow. Seriously, he went to Starbucks? I sure could use an Americano right about now, but surely to God, he didn’t make a run to Hope Falls to get me another one. That would be . . . too sweet.

“Hey,” I say as I approach.

“Hey yourself.” He holds the coffee out to me, and my heart squeezes. “You rushed out this morning before your finished your coffee, so I thought you could use another one. This one should still be warm.”

I swallow against the tightness in my throat as my pulse beats double time against my neck. I could get used to this, used to Sean. But we’re simply playing house, and I can’t forget that. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Didn’t have to. Wanted to.” He gives me that familiar shrug again. “Besides I was in Hope Falls.”

“Bacon?” I tease in an effort to uncoil the knot in my gut.

He laughs. “For work actually. Needed some supplies.” He looks at his brothers and scowls. “My brother Tyler is working on a project, adding a new addition to one of the oceanfront homes, not too far from yours actually.”

“And that’s a problem why?”

“What? I never said that was a problem”

“You’re scowling. You scowl when something is pissing you off.” His scowl deepens and I grin. “Yeah, that’s it. Just like that. That’s what I’m talking about.”

“I do not scowl.”

“Yeah, you do, and you glare, too.” I laugh as he continues to glare at me, a scowl marring his handsome features. I straighten. “Wait. Am I pissing you off now?”

“Yeah, you’re pissing me off. I don’t scowl or glare.”

“Need a mirror?” He growls as I pull the tab back on the coffee cup lid and take a sip. “Mmmm,” I moan. Lust replaces his glare and his eyes drop to my mouth. “Sorry,” I say quickly and make a mental note to quit moaning every time I drink a coffee. At least when we’re in public and we can’t do something about it. But the look in his eyes warns he doesn’t care if we have an audience.

On that note, I put on my best professional face and say, “What can I get you?”

“Do you even have to ask?” he grumbles.

Before I can answer, his brothers and Beck all grab a seat at the table. I take their orders, the whole time Sean’s eyes ablaze with lust, and go to the back to punch them in. I hurry through my shift, and about a half hour later I turn back to see Sean by himself.

The guys are all gone, and I catch him unguarded as he stares at his glass of soda, like it holds all the answers to the universe. I take in the quiet reflective side of him. What is going through that mind of his? The last of my customers slide from their booth, and the only ones left in the pub is the kitchen staff, a couple of the other waitresses, and Sean. He’s nursing his soda, looking like he’s a million miles away, fighting demons that no one can see but him.

The door kicks shut as the last of the diners leave, and it jolts Sean back to the present. His gaze scans the pub, locks on mine, and that dark, contemplative looks softens when our gazes collide. A dangerous grin tugs at the corners of his mouth, and the gleam in his eyes worries me. I practically vibrate beneath his stare. Oh, God, I am in so much trouble.

He pushes from the chair and I turn my back to him, walk up to the bar, and go over my receipts. His boots pound on the floor, keeping rhythm with my crashing heart as he cages me, and his scent curls around me like a powerful aphrodisiac.

“Busy,” he asks, his nearness making me breathless.

“Very.”

His hand touches the back of my neck, trails lower, leaving goose bumps in its wake. “No time for a break.”

“Actually there is something I want to talk to you about.”

He stands solidly behind me. “What I want to do to you involves my mouth, too,” he says his voice teasing, playful and I admit I love this side of him. In fact I love all sides of him. I take a breath to battle my desires, when all I want to do is surrender myself to him. But his grandmother was here, and we can’t let her go around thinking we’re a couple. We’re not.

“Your grandmother,” I begin.

He stiffens. “What about her?”

“She was here today.”

“And?”

I spin to see him and I know it’s cliché but good God, he is so beautiful he takes my breath way. “She invited me to Sunday dinner.”

He shakes his head. “Fucking Tyler.”

“Tyler?”

“Yeah, he told Gram I had a thing for you.”

“A thing?” I jump to the worst conclusion, as always. “He didn’t tell her we were . . .”

“No he didn’t tell her we were fucking.” His thumb goes to my mouth and he brushes it over my bottom lip, rough, greedy. Jesus, he’s going to devour me. “I told her we were just friends, but Gram would like nothing better than to see me settled down.” A noise crawls out of his throat, a scoff of sorts. I can only imagine it means it will be cold day in hell before he settles down. Guess Stacey was right. The Owens boys aren’t marriage material. Not that I’m looking for anything that resembles a white wedding from Sean.

“Can you get me out of it?” I ask. “We’re not dating and I don’t want to give your grandmother the wrong idea.”

His brow pulls together, a flash of disappointment on his face, then he wipes it away as fast as it appeared. What the hell? Does he want me to go? Honest to God, he’s strong and steady, tough and rough, but a contradiction to me in so many ways.

“Not going to happen.” He clicks his tongue. “Gram gets what Gram wants.”

I poke him in the chest. “Like someone else I know,” I say as he drags his finger down my throat, like he’s anxious to explore my body again.

God, I want that, too.

“No changing her mind, unless you want a hell of a fight on your hands. She’s not above causing a scene either.”

Nervousness steals over me. “I prefer to keep a low profile.”

“Looks like you’re going to have to come then.”

Why is it I feel like he’s talking about something else entirely now. The dirty grin on his face? Possibly. The way he’s rubbing his hard cock against me and putting emphasis on the word “come”? Definitely. He lifts his gaze, does a sweep of the room, then grabs my hand.

“Come with me.”

“Where are we going?” I ask on a breathless whisper, not that I care anymore. I’m pretty sure I’d follow him into the depths of hell right now, if it meant he was going to touch me again. Damn my mutinous body. So much for my resolve to keep my distance at work . . . or my distance from him at all.

I’m not done with you.

I don’t even want to think about the mess I’m going to be in when he is done with me. He opens the storage room, drags me in and closes the door, plunging us in darkness.

“Sean,” I whisper, a giggle catching in my throat as something strange comes over me. Honest to God, I feel like I’m thirteen again, playing seven minutes in heaven with some slobbering boy at a friend’s first teenage birthday party. Except Sean is not some slobbering kid who has no idea how to kiss. No, his kisses are like magic. The second our lips touch, poof, my panties always seem to disappear.

“Something funny?” His deep voice sizzles through me.

“No, it’s just that the last time I was in a dark closet it was with Danny Fitzgerald.”

His muscles are tight beneath my hand. “Who the fuck is Danny Fitzgerald?”

“I was at my first boy-girl party and we were playing seven minutes in heaven.”

He relaxes a bit, slips his hand around my body and grips my ass. I yelp. “Seven minutes, huh?”

“What, you’ve never played?”

My hands race over him with aroused eagerness and electricity arcs between us. I wouldn’t be surprised if the room suddenly lights up.

“I’ve played plenty,” he says, “But with you seven minutes will never be enough.”

I open my mouth to say something but he swallows my reply as his lips come down over mine. I moan and sag into him. He kisses me deep, hard, and desire slams in to me. My limbs weaken as his tongue plays with mine, and leaves me hot, needy . . . wordless. Jesus the man kisses like this is no game.

His hands slide under my shirt. “All day these have been on my mind.” He tugs my bra down, and my body ignites when his hot mouth closes over one nipple. I cry out and his other hand goes over my mouth to stifle it. I giggle a little, feeling reckless, and carefree, like I’m twelve again and the boy of my dreams is giving me mouth-to-mouth down by the shore. He tugs my nipples between his teeth and gently bites down. I arch into him and moan.

“That feels so good.”

And I am so not twelve again.

His lips abandon my breasts and he unbuttons my jeans and has them around my ankles before I even realize what’s going on. Damned if he isn’t a man of many talents. I rub up against him, needing the contact. He slides a hand into my panties, and sinks a finger into me. Slick, easy strokes that have me panting in record time.

“Yeah, that’s it. Nice and wet for me just like I knew you’d be.”

Talented fingers light me up, and I clamp my legs together to ride him. His mouth finds mine again and tongues join and tangle as he drives another finger inside. I gulp, control a thing of the past as I take what I need. I tear my mouth away, and throw my head back, nothing mattering but what he’s doing between my legs.

He sinks to his knees, and presses his mouth to my clit. He sucks on it so hard, sensations rip through me and steal the air from my lungs. I want his cock in me so badly I ache deep in my core. I tremble, pant, share in his urgency, and when he applies more pressure, I let go and come around his fingers.

“Fuck yes,” he murmurs and laps at me. “I’ve been thinking about this all day, too.” He stays between my legs and my erotic whimpers fill the room, but I need more.

“Sean, please.” I pull him to me and he stands. Need burns in my throat as he presses against me. “Inside me . . . now . . . hurry . . .”

His needy curses coil around me as he unzips his pants, turns me around and bends me over one of the shelving units. With my jeans to my knees his thick head nudges my opening from behind and I rear back forcing him in.

“Fuck me,” he growls.

“No, fuck me.” Good Lord he’s turning me into a freaking addict with a mouth as dirty as his. He drives his entire length into me.

“Oh, my God,” I cry out, but it only fuels him. He pumps, slams, thrusts like a man hell bent on taking what’s his. He fists my hair and shivers of need race through me. I cry out, a keening sound that I try to muffle with my hands.

I push back, wanting him deeper, harder, unable to get enough. His hand presses on my back to still me, and my blood pulses so hot, I’m afraid I might go up in a burst of flames.

Rippling waves of an orgasm take hold and my breath comes in a jagged burst. I cry out in ecstasy, as wet warmth pools between my legs.

“I feel you,” he murmurs. “So slick and hot on my cock.”

He rams hard and I meet and welcome his racing strokes, as he bangs me against the shelving, his severe, blunt thrusts create heat and friction until I’m lost, delirious with desire. I gasp as another hot, hard orgasm ambushes me, and I bite my lip to stifle a cry, as some working brain cell reminds me where I am.

“Sean,” I murmur and he lifts my shirt and puts his mouth on my back. He presses hot kisses, his hands gripping my hips as he pumps, his heart pounding against my back as he leans over me. I can taste the tension in the air, expanding, filling every corner, until an explosion is inevitable. He straightens and drives hard. I steal a glance at him over my shoulder, take in the savage look on his face, fierce, predatory, possessive, a desperate sort of need in his eyes as they connect with mine. My heart hammers and I swallow against the thickness in my throat.

“Summer,” he whispers, or at least I think that’s what he called me, but I’m so far gone, lost in him, my heart pounding so hard I my ears, I can’t hear right. He throws his head back, his hands biting into my hips, bruising delicate flesh, and let’s himself go, pumping his seed high inside me. I squeeze around him, keeping his cum in me, not wanting to lose a single drop.

Gasping hard, we both stay still, motionless for a long time, then he runs his hand along my back, grips my shoulder and lifts me until my back is against his powerful chest.

His mouth goes to my ear. “You’re incredible.”

“That was . . .” I can quite put into words what that was.

“Fun?”

My heart sinks a little. Yes, it was fun, but it felt like so much more. It felt like his kisses were real, like there was something more going on between us. Like we crossed an imaginary line there is no coming back from.

Someone walks by the door, we see a shadow under the bottom crack and Sean shifts his body to block mine in case it opens. When the footsteps become distant, he tugs my panties and jeans back up, and fixes my bra and shirt.

His lips find mine, a soft kiss, so full of tenderness and emotions I’m having a hard time wrapping my brain around the two of us, and this sex only relationship. His zipper cuts through the quiet as he fixes himself.

“All set,” he whispers, his hand going around my neck to cup it. His thumb brushes lightly, and my heart squeezes.

“Yeah,” I say, trying to keep my voice light.

Sean cracks the door and when he finds the coast clear, he ushers me out. I fix my hair as I walk down the hall and try to pull of casual, even though I have Sean’s scent all over me and vice versa. One look at us, and it’s easy to tell what we were doing in that back room. Fortunately the restaurant is empty when we emerge and my boss Beck had left with the other two Owens brothers earlier.

We reach the bar and he casts me a grin and says, “See you at home tonight.”

My heart flips and I swallow down the lump punching into my throat. I shouldn’t like the sound of that so much, the idea that going home to him every night is something I could so easily get used to. Falling in bed together every night would be the nicest thing, but more importantly waking up with him every morning would be even better. But we’re just playing house, exploring a brief affair while I’m here, and I’d be wise to remember that.

“See you later,” I say and inject a lightness into my voice.

He stops, cups my elbow, and draws me close. Green eyes darken as they move over my face, and my lids flutter. “Everything okay?”

Why is it I can never get anything by this man? “Perfect. I just need to get back to work,” I say.

He peruses the empty pub, a dubious look on his face, but instead of calling me on it, he says, “Okay.” His gaze returns to mine. “How about I grab us a pizza for dinner?”

“Pizza is perfect.” I brace myself against the bar, needing it for support as I watch him saunter out. When the door bangs shut behind him I draw a quick breath and remind myself what’s real and what isn’t. Sex is for fun, nothing else. With that last thought in mind, I go over my receipts again.

The rest of my shift flies by in a blur and I clock out at four. I untie my apron, and shove it into my purse. Instead of going to my truck, I hurry down the sidewalk still filled with kids playing, and enter the post office. I stand in line, two people ahead of me as the man behind the counter searches for a parcel. He’s as old as Benny, and should have retired years ago. Must be the fresh county air that keeps these folks going.

Close to fifteen minutes later, I’m at the counter, but when the bell over the door jingles and a shiver moves down my spine I don’t need to turn to know Sean has entered. His boots scrape and the next thing I know his mouth is near my ear.

“Come here often?”

I turn and try to make light of the situation. “Real original.” He flashes that ridiculously sexy dimple. “You could have come up with something better like, ‘Excuse me, were you checking out my package?’”

With that Sean laughs, and the sound goes right through me. The elderly gentleman behind the counter, however, finds nothing funny about the situation.

“Can I help you?” he says again, and I hesitate. Shoot, I want to ask about the key but don’t want to raise Sean’s suspicions. He already knows I’m a keeping a secret, or two, and that I’m pretending to be someone I’m not.

“I . . . uh . . . found this key, and was just wondering if belonged to a post office box.”

The elderly gentleman lifts his head and looks through the lower part of his glasses. “Nope, not one of ours. You might want to try the bus station.”

“Thanks,” I say and shove it into my pocket. I plaster a smile on my face and turn, but Sean isn’t smiling when I try to walk past him. He cups my elbow and pulls me against his hard body. There are other customers in the post office, and they’re darting glances our way but Sean doesn’t seem to worry about the attention we’re drawing.

“What’s up?” he asks.

“Oh, nothing.” I lean forward, let my hair mask my features. “I just found this at the house, thought someone might have lost it, or it belonged to the Wheeler family.”

He stares at me for a long moment, long enough to make me uncomfortable, then let’s me go. “I have a few more stops to make, then I’ll meet you at home.”

There he goes using that “home” word again.

I nod and leave the post office. Out on the busy sidewalk, I look up and down the street, unable to decide if I’m happy or not that I hadn’t yet discovered the secrets this key will unlock. Wouldn’t it be easier to just pretend it didn’t exist, to live in ignorant bliss as I hide out here in Blue Bay for the rest of my life? But if Jack had something to do with Dad’s death I plan to get to the bottom of it.

The warm sun beats down on me and I jump into my truck, make the trek home. I enter the cottage and breathe in. Unlike when I first arrived, everything smells clean and pure, like sunshine after a hard rain. I hear children laughing in the ocean just beyond my back door, and for the first time since I’ve been back, a sense of home washes over me. I’d forgotten how much I love it here. I breathe deep, let it out slowly and exhale all my fears. I’m not sure what’s come over me, maybe it was the “kissing closet,” the lightness Sean makes me feel. I briefly close my eyes and open them again, deciding to focus on the good memories from my past, the love I feel in every corner of the cottage. It almost feels like my parents have their arms around me, hugging me from above—protecting me from harm. Then again, maybe that’s why the lockbox had a key to our cottage, to a place where I’d find Sean. He’s only boy who’s ever displayed protectiveness. Could my father have wanted this? Wanted me to find him? Or am I just really stretching things for my own benefit?

I step into the living room and as I walk to the back window to glance out over the ocean, I see Sean has already started tearing up the floors and there is a big hole in the wall where the water had been dripping.

The ocean beckons me and since Sean said he had to make another stop, I decide to go for a swim. I hurry to my room, pull on the one-piece bathing suit I’d picked up the other day and rush to the water. I swim out, but not too far. I don’t dare. Sean isn’t around to give me mouth-to-mouth should I need it.

I enjoy the cool water rushing around me, and as the dinner hour approaches, many of the families pack up their supplies and head home. Only a few sun worshippers remain, catching the last of the day’s rays before the sun sets on the horizon. From the water I can see the back of the house, and I glance up to catch Sean coming my way. He has something in his arms, something big, but from where I am I can’t tell what it is, although I do know it’s not a pizza.

I push through the water and step onto the sand. I grab my towel, blot my face and wrap it around me. The second I see what Sean has in his arms, my heart beats wildly, and my lungs clench so tight, it hurts to breathe. He did this for me?

“Sean? What . . .”

He grins. “For you.”

I look into his face, search his eyes and beneath the tough and rough surface, see the amazing, sweet man he really is. “You’re kidding?”

“Nope.

I step up to him, and when I get close, I get a great big wet tongue across my face. Sean and I both laugh and he sets the playful retriever on the sand. The pup takes off, and darts into the water.

It barks and nips at the waves, and we both laugh, the last of the heaviness inside me taking flight. I take in the brightness in Sean’s eyes and my heart soars. With so much weight around us lately, we needed this laugh.

“Why are you giving me a golden retriever pup?” I ask, but I already know the answer.

“Well,” he says. “Since you’re spooked at the cottage, I thought you might like to have a dog for company, or for when you’re scared. If she’s anything like Bear, she can chase off a raccoon, or . . . any other intruders.”

“Bear?” I ask, even though I know the answer.

“Tyler’s old dog,” he says. “Summer used to love him.”

I nod as my heart wobbles at his thoughtfulness. First a surveillance system and now this. I step up to him, press my cold wet body to his warmth. “I thought you were my guard dog.”

The playfulness leaves his face. “I can’t be there twenty-four seven. I have other jobs to check on, and well . . .” He brushes his thumb along my cheek and gestures toward the dog. “She’s going to get big really fast.”

My smile drops. “Sean,” I begin. “I can’t have dog. I don’t know how long I’ll be staying, and I only have a small condo back in SoCal. A retriever needs space to run and play.”

“It’s fine.” He rolls one shoulder. “I’ll take her when you’re gone.”

I eye him. “You’re not planning to hit the motocross circuit again?”

“No, I gave that up.” He clenches down on his jaw, those demons back in his eyes. “I have a responsibility here now.” He looks past my shoulders. “Only one question remains.”

“What’s that?”

“What are you going to call her?”

I turn to see the pup playing and laugh. “Scout.”

His brow pulls together. “Scout?”

“Yeah, from To Kill a Mockingbird.”

“Really. Why?”

I roll one shoulder. “Because she’s going to be tough and see the good in people.”

His head dips and the corner of his mouth turns up. “Like you.”

I lift my chin. “You think I’m tough and see the good in people?”

His knuckles brush mine and intense eyes study me darkly. “I think you’re a lot of things.”

“I think you’re a lot of things, too, Sean.”

“Don’t say “sweet,” otherwise I’ll put you over my knee and slap that ass of yours.”

“Okay, then. I think you’re solid, dependable, a really great guy.”

His face darkens, those demons he’s running from clawing him out from the inside. My stomach tightens. I hate that look on him, would do just about anything to chase it away. Then again, I probably have that same look on my face. Aren’t we the pair? Two messed up people who can’t outrun the things hunting them.

“We should get back.” He jerks his thumb over his shoulder. “Pizza is getting cold.”

Needing to lighten things, I turn and say, “Here Scout.” The puppy ignores me of course, so I run to the water and get her. Silence hangs heavy as we trek back to the cottage.

We step inside and the delicious scent of pepperoni and cheese hits me. My stomach grumbles. “I’m hungrier than I realized.”

“Me, too, really worked up an appetite at work today.”

I grin as my mind takes me back to the closet. “Me, too.”

Sean grabs some plates as I play with Scout, but she’s soon tuckered out from the excitement of the day and curls up in the bed Sean bought.

“Where did you get her?

“Friend of mine. He’s a breeder. Very reputable. Sold me all this stuff to go with her.” I take in the bag of food bigger than Sean, the toys, bowls, blankets, bed, leash, and at least a dozen other things. Sean rolls his eyes. “She’s a pup, what does she need with all that stuff?”

“She won’t be a pup for long though.”

He hands me a slice of pizza and I bite into it. “Mmm,” I moan.

“You know you really need to find another sound.”

“You don’t like it when I moan in the bedroom?”

“Yeah, I fucking do.” He gazes at his cock and I follow the direction. “But outside the bedroom, my dick can’t take it.”

I laugh and point to his pizza. “Eat.” I wink at him. “Maybe I’ll see what I can do to help little Sean out later.”

“Little?”

I laugh and bite into my pizza. “Eat.”

Sean takes a big bite and I jump up and pour us each a soda. He takes a big swig and finishes off his slice in record time.

He reaches for another and winces as he pulls his arm back. “Son of a bitch,” he says and rotates his shoulder.

“Still bothering you?”

“Yeah.” His eyes darken, go playful. “I believe I do remember you saying something about working out the kink.”

My mouth drops open and my eyes go wide. “Not in front of the puppy,” I tease back.

He laughs and jerks his head toward the hall. “We could always take this into the other room.”

“Actually, let me have a look at your shoulder first.” I stand and move in behind him. I feel along his shoulder and down his back. He groans, but I’m pretty sure it’s from pleasure, not pain. I lightly whack the side of his head. “Cut it out.”

“What do you expect when you’re touching me like this?” He grabs another slice and bites in to it as I work on him.

“Do you react like this whenever you’re touched?”

He goes strangely quiet for a moment, then in a lower voice says, “No.”

My body fires, because no one has the effect on me the way Sean does either, but as much as I’d love to take him in the bedroom, he needs something else from me. “Any chance you can lay on the floor for me?”

“Are you trying to have your way with me again?”

“Sean . . . ,” I grumble

“Not that I mind but I think the bed would be softer.”

I give him a warning glare, and he laughs and holds his hands up. “Okay, okay. The floor it is.”

He walks into the living room, flattens himself on the boards that aren’t damaged and puts his hands above his head. I drop down next to him, lift his arm and move it around to check the rotator cuff. “First of all, you have a damaged rotator cuff.”

“Tell me something I don’t know.”

“How did it happen?”

“Fell off a damn bike. It was raining, and I took a hairpin turn too fast.”

“Yikes.”

He gives that easy shrug again. “I’m alive.”

I feel along his back, and when I find the joint that is locked up, I go up on my knees and apply force. It pops back, and a loud snapping sound follows.

“Jesus, what are you doing to me?”

“You’re a mess back here. Have you seen a doctor about this?”

“No, haven’t had time.”

“Well you’re back in town now so I’d suggest you get this checked out.”

“Isn’t that what I’m doing?”

Instead of answering, I say, “Sean.”

“Yeah.”

“This afternoon, you were scowling about something. What was that all about?”

“Work stuff.”

“What kind of work stuff?”

He pauses for a moment like he’s not sure he wants to talk about it, then says, “I need to get a damn building permit, but Officer Walker is stalling things at city hall.”

I run my hand along his vertebra checking the joints. “Why does he hate you?”

“He and Dad go way back. Dad stole his girl in high school, and married her afterward. I used to call her mom.”

His mom had died shortly after we left Blue Bay for good, but I remember hearing Dad talk about it. It broke my heart, and I wanted so desperately to be here for him.

“I’m sorry about your mom.”

“Thanks.”

“Are your folks still alive?” he asks.

“No. I lost my mom years ago,” I say and glance down that hallway. If he knows I’m Summer, and it’s clear he does, he’d already knows what happened to my mother. But we’re playing a game here, and I’m grateful he’s playing along. “My dad, I lost him six months ago.”

“I’m sorry.” He turns, and the genuine sadness in his gaze brings water to my eyes. I miss my folks so much. Feeling lost, empty, a little twisted up inside I draw in a slow breath. Sean sits up, and presses his lips to mine. He kisses me with a savagery that tells me how lost he is, how he’s hurting every bit as much as I am. As my gaze moves over his face, greed, hunger, and something dark and needy seems to take hold of him.

“Sean,” I whisper as something potent, something I’m absolutely certain there is no coming back from pulses between us. Entirely lost in the moment, in him, I let go, forget that I’m not supposed to feel, because I need to feel. I need to feel Sean in my arms, bed, between my legs.

“Yeah?” His eyes are wild, needy. Fierce. He’s never looked sexier.

“You said something about the bedroom.”