She could feel him next to her, breathing softly, and knew she was dreaming, yet she felt reality too in the distance while settling into warmth, tucked against Tom and his hard chest against her back. She could feel his arm around her, holding her to him, and she felt a sense of protection and the security of having all that warm male energy holding her. Then reality slowly started to weave back to her mind, pulling her from this bliss as her eyes opened in the darkness and she remembered everything, and her mom and dad.

“Oh, crap!” She bolted upright, her hand on Tom’s thigh, seeing how dark it was and searching for a clock.

She heard him stir, his hand on her back. “What’s wrong?” He sounded as if he was still asleep as his hand drifted lower and started to pull her back down.

“Tom, what time is it?” He didn’t have a damn clock in his room?

“I don’t know.” He rubbed his hand over his face as she climbed over him and hit the floor, looking for her cell phone and finding it on the dresser. She powered it on and saw it was coming on eleven, then saw the messages on her phone.

“Oh shit, oh shit, this is so bad.”

“What is it?” The bed creaked, and then he was up and walking across the room. The light came on, and she took in the gorgeous doctor she’d just let drag her without much protest to his bed.

“I am so dead, Tom. It’s after eleven. You weren’t supposed to let me fall asleep. My parents are going to be so freaking out, and my phone was off. There has to be…” She dialed her voicemail and heard that the mailbox was full, four messages. This was worse than anything. Gone was any chance of sneaking up to her room and grabbing a quick shower before bed. She could feel Tom still inside her, taste him still, and wondered if his scent was all over her.

“It’s fine, Katy. Just call them,” he said and was pulling on his pants, since her car was still at school.

She quickly got dressed and took one look in the mirror at her disheveled hair and swollen lips from kissing Tom, the red mark on her neck that was impossible to hide. “You gave me a hickey!” she said. You have got to be kidding! She’d be walking around in turtlenecks for a week. Come to think of it, she only had one.

“Call them,” Tom called out from the living room and then appeared in the doorway, his eyes taking a slow drag down her body. His expression and the tension that seemed to be part of him was replaced with ease and the message that this was no big deal. Didn’t he get it?

She said nothing as she dialed her phone and listened to the messages: “Becky, it’s Mom. Starting to get worried. Call me back.” The next one was also her mom: “Becky, why haven’t you called me back? It’s just past ten, and I’m starting to think some pretty scary thoughts.” This was followed by another from her mom, a lot more frantic, something she’d never heard before: “Okay, if you don’t call me back, like, now, your dad and I are going to start assuming the worst and will call the hospitals.”

She was afraid to hear the last one. It was from her dad, less than five minutes ago: “Becky, it’s Dad. Where are you? Call me back now.” His tone said everything. She’d royally fucked up, big time. Scaring her parents and bringing them worry was never something she’d wanted to do. No, she loved her parents deeply, and she’d never heard her dad sound as mad as he had in that message. He hadn’t yelled, but it was in the way he clearly punctuated each word. She touched her head and saw Tom in the doorway.

“Come on, let’s go.” He had his coat on and was holding hers up.

She slid her arms in and walked out of the bedroom, reaching for her purse, when her phone rang again. Of course it was her dad’s name on the screen. Her stomach bottomed out, and she felt Tom’s hand on her back. “It’s my dad,” she said.

“Answer it” was all he said.

Did he have no idea what a shitload of crap he was opening up by having her answer the phone? “Hi, Dad.” She pressed the phone to her ear and squinted her eyes shut just as Tom ushered her out the door.

“Where are you!”

No, he wasn’t mad. He was way past that.

“I’m just on my way home—”

“Without your car? Neil spoke with some guy named Ian, who said your car was still in the campus parking lot.” He cut her off, and she turned and looked up at Tom, who had pressed the elevator button. She wondered whether he could see the panic in her eyes. He gestured for her to give him the phone.

“Ah, yeah, I’m just on my way back to my car…”

“I asked you a very direct question. Where are you right now?”

The elevator dinged, and she stepped inside. Tom pressed the L button, and the doors closed. There was no way in hell she could evade anything now. Her dad wanted answers. She’d have to give him the answers he needed, come hell or high water. He would know if she wasn’t telling him everything, and there would be no pass this time.

“Becky, I’m waiting. So help me God, if you don’t answer me right now…”

“I’m with Tom, at his place. He’s driving me back to my car right now,” she said. Then there was silence, and she looked up to Tom.

He reached for her phone, took it, and pressed it to his ear. “This is Tom Campbell, Mr. Friessen. I’m driving Becky…” He stopped talking the same time the elevator dinged and the doors opened, and she could hear her dad saying something. It was his deep voice that had cut Tom off. Whatever he was saying to Tom, she couldn’t tell, because that same hard emotion that was unreadable to her was back on his face. He had his hand pressed to her lower back, guiding her out the backdoor to the lot where his Durango was parked.

“No, sir, I understand. I’ll drive her to the ranch.” Then he hung up and handed Becky her phone as he opened the passenger door.

“What did my dad say to you?” She pressed her hand to his chest, feeling how tight he was. All the ease of sex had quickly worn away.

“Get in,” he said and closed the door after her.

She didn’t know what the fuck she was walking into as she felt the solid ground she’d once had blow up around her. He slid behind the wheel and started his SUV, then backed out and still hadn’t said anything.

“Tom, what did my dad say to you?” she asked as he pulled out of the parking lot, going right instead of left. “My car,” she said, and he leaned back, reached over, and squeezed her thigh, a move she’d never expected from him.

“I’m taking you home to the ranch.”

She stared in horror, realizing she’d heard him say that to her dad, but she couldn’t visualize it as true. Just the thought of driving in and Tom having to meet face to face with her dad terrified her. If he didn’t remember who he was, he’d sure as shit remember when she walked up the steps.

“And my car?” Her voice squeaked.

He glanced her way just once, shook his head. “You’ll get it tomorrow, but your dad demanded I bring you home. This is a first for me, and I have this distinct feeling I could be facing the end of a shotgun,” he said.

Becky took a minute to grasp the gravity of what he’d said. If her dad was as mad as she thought, having Tom facing the wrong end of a shotgun might have been the least of their worries.