Chapter Nineteen
On the way back from Angel’s, Rafe stopped at Pirro and Aunt Vivian’s house so he could check on the older man. Sara admired his dedication to his family. She’d even venture a guess that he felt less confined and constricted by them than he had in the past. He liked to complain about their intrusiveness, but in his heart, he adored each and every one of them. Today, realizing the events of last night had been overwhelming, Rafe had wanted to see for himself that Pirro was doing okay and that he’d mended things with his wife.
Their cars were in the driveway. When nobody answered the doorbell, Rafe grabbed Sara’s hand, sending a jolt of awareness spiraling through her. Enjoying the feeling of being a couple, she let him lead her around back where they found Vi and Pirro holding court on the patio. Rafe’s parents were there, along with friends and neighbors.
“Is it a holiday from work that nobody told me about?” Rafe asked, glancing around at the crowd.
“I gave everyone the day off in honor of Pirro’s heroism,” Rafe’s father said, holding up a bottle of beer.
Rafe shook his head and laughed. “Then hand one over so we can toast to Pirro, the hero.”
Sara grinned. She and Rafe had agreed not to spoil Pirro’s version of events. Apparently, they’d been celebrating, too. Sara was happy to join them. Especially with going home to New York looming large in her thoughts now, it was especially sweet to spend time with Rafe’s large family. Too soon, she’d be home alone.
The way she liked it.
Didn’t she?
“Rafe, a word?” Pirro walked over and pulled Rafe aside.
“I’ll be back,” he promised.
Sara nodded. “I’ll be fine.”
“No, no. You come, too. You’re part of this,” Pirro said. He adjusted his baseball cap by the brim and led them to the far corner of the yard.
“I’m glad you came by. I have something for you.”
“We came to check on you,” Rafe said. “I’m glad to see you’re surrounded by family and doing well. Last night was rough.”
“About last night.” Pirro pulled his cap off and looked Rafe in the eye. “I know I’m embellishing the story a little.”
Sara grinned. “Not by much.”
Rafe shot her a grateful look.
“What else can I do? Tell my wife I was so scared I brought up her dinner all over that animal’s shoes?” Pirro asked, his face flushed red with embarrassment.
Rafe shook his head. “It’s our secret, I promise. Want to know another secret?”
Pirro raised an eyebrow.
“The first time I shot someone, I wet my pants.”
“Really?” Pirro asked.
Rafe inclined his head. “Let’s go back and celebrate, okay?”
Pirro nodded. “Okay. But first, here.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a handful of blue pills. “Here. My final illegal stash. I made an appointment with my doctor for Monday. I’ll get them from him.”
Rafe put his hand on Pirro’s shoulder. “That’s a wise decision.”
“Wiser than the ones I’ve made so far. And I wanted you to know I realize that now. I’m grateful to both of you for getting me out of the mess I made, and I wanted to give you the last of them.” Pirro closed Rafe’s hand around the pills.
“You’re a brave man, Pirro DeVittorio,” Sara said. “I’m honored to know you.”
And she meant it.
“I feel the same way about you, Sara Rios.”
Rafe placed one hand on each of their shoulders and led them back to the party, where Pirro rejoined his wife.
Rafe turned to Sara. “Do you have a place to hold these until I can safely get rid of them?”
She held out her hand, and he poured them into her palm. She slid them into the pocket of her shorts.
For the rest of the afternoon and into the evening, they mingled with Pirro and Vivian’s guests and ended up staying for a barbecue. Sara spent a good amount of time with Mariana, listening to Rafe’s mother tell her stories about when he was a young.
To everyone’s surprise, Nick arrived with Angel, and they both appeared to be in a good mood. Despite her usual pessimism about relationships, Sara still held out hope for the couple.
The beer and wine flowed, and by the time the night drew to a close, Sara was lightly buzzed and definitely enjoying herself.
“Ready to go?” Rafe pulled her against him and whispered in her ear.
All thoughts of the party and guests fled in favor of enjoying Rafe and whatever time they had left.
She leaned into him and nuzzled her lips against his neck. “Lead the way.”
They said their goodbyes, which as usual when among his family took longer than either of them would have liked.
Until finally, he threaded his fingers through hers and tugged on her arm. “Let’s go home.”
Ripples of yearning rushed through her, not just for Rafe, but for the word he’d uttered and the elusive feeling of belonging that was always just out of reach.
Rafe spent the next few days as if they were his last. He spent the hours eating, sleeping, going out on the boat, making love with Sara—and waiting for the call that would send her home. But as the days passed without a word from New York, he stopped thinking about it and began to live in the fantasy that this could last.
Early afternoon, he returned from doing a few errands to find Sara sitting on the couch, his favorite blanket pulled over her legs, and a tub of ice cream in her lap as she ate from the carton. Jeopardy was on the television and Sara called out questions between spoonfuls of Ben & Jerry’s Chocolate Fudge Brownie–flavored ice cream.
Locking the door behind him, he tossed his keys on the counter and strode into the room. “Is there enough to share, or should I grab my own?” he asked.
Her gaze darted between him and her favorite snack. “You can share,” she said begrudgingly.
He ignored her obvious reluctance to share. Instead, he grinned and, in a split second, crossed the room and jumped into the spot next to her on the couch.
“Well?” he held out a hand for the utensil.
An adorable pout settled on her lips as she spooned out a small bit of ice cream, but she didn’t hand it to him. She held out the spoon for him to eat from it.
He opened his mouth and let her feed him.
She then went back to her own mouthfuls.
“That’s it? That’s all I get?”
She tipped her head to one side. “Do you really want to come between me and my Chocolate Fudge Brownie?”
“Do you really want to make me beg?”
“Begging’s good.” Her eyes twinkled with mischief.
“Taking what I want is much better.”
She raised an eyebrow.
He plucked the carton from her hands and placed it on the table, then came over to her, swiping his tongue over her lips and finally sealing his mouth on hers. He teased the seam of her closed lips until she opened and he thrust his tongue inside, taking all the Chocolate Fudge Brownie he desired.
His yearning grew, desire building as the passionate lip-lock went on and on, all the seductive powers he possessed going into this one kiss. She writhed beneath him and let out a low moan of appreciation. Then, wrapping her arms around his neck, she fully participated in sharing her beloved ice cream with sexy nibbles of her teeth and hot laps of her tongue.
She didn’t seem in any rush to take things further, and he was enjoying the playful moment too much to rush them. He deepened the kiss, and his body pressed against hers, his hips settling between her thighs, increasing the sensation of his hard erection throbbing in his jeans and pulsing against her soft, feminine body.
He wound his tongue around hers, thrusting in and out, mimicking the most intimate sexual act until their bodies began to rock in unison to the same tempo. His hips wound in circles, thrusting against her, harder and harder, until she began to pant and moan beneath him. Rafe didn’t know how he’d hold back, but he’d damn well try, and he pumped his hips into hers, attempting to give her the pleasure she sought, the orgasm that was so obviously within reach.
Harder, faster, harder, faster. He grit his teeth and somehow held on as she trembled and finally screamed her climax, her entire body quaking with the force of it.
She reached up and began yanking on his jeans. He took the hint. He undid his button and stripped naked while she did the same. And then he was over her again, his hands thrusting through her hair at the same time he plunged hard and deep, his engorged member sliding into her hot, moist sheath.
She arched her back, bent her knees and not only accepted all of him but pulled him impossibly deeper. He thought he’d explode right then.
Her fingers gripped the back of his hair, and he pulled out, only to thrust in harder.
“Rafe!”
She called out his name, a mix of pleasure and pain, and he understood. He couldn’t take it, either, but he definitely couldn’t stop. In. Out. In. Out. All the while, her ragged breathing sounded harsh and wonderful in his ear.
In. Out. In. Out. She gasped, her breaths more rapid now.
He couldn’t hold on another second, but he had to take her with him.
In. Out. In. Out.
“Come with me,” he said, his words gruff, barely out of his mouth before the most intense orgasm shook him, body and soul. Quaking tremors rippled through him, over and over, along with “I love you,” words he’d never meant to utter but couldn’t control.
Sara lay awake in Rafe’s arms, cuddled together on the couch. He’d passed out on the couch, falling into a deep sleep. He didn’t move a muscle when the phone rang, nor did he roll over as Sara wiggled free. She missed the call and let it go to voice mail, but the message left by the captain couldn’t have been clearer.
Drive home tomorrow. Court the day after.
Not a minute too soon, Sara thought.
In fact, the order had come way too late. Too late to protect them from the inevitable heartbreak she’d known would come. There was a way to make it easier, though.
Sara saved the message for Rafe to hear. Then she took a quick shower, tossed her things into her suitcase and was ready to leave within the hour.
She knew from Coop that Amanda’s fake story about Rafe and Sara’s honeymoon departure was ready to run on the Bachelor Blog with the hit of the send button. As soon as she was in the car, Sara would call Coop and have him tell Amanda that it was time. The Internet would spread the story in seconds. The Daily Post would follow up with it on the evening edition. Morley and his men would think Sara had fled the country rather than testify, and nobody would be expecting her back in New York.
Ready to leave, she paused only to stop by the couch where Rafe slept. She took the knitted blanket on the arm of the sofa and covered him. Then she knelt by his side. A lock of hair had fallen over his forehead, giving him a boyish look she rarely associated with him, making him seem more vulnerable than she knew him to be. Hurting him was the last thing she’d ever want to do, and she believed that her leaving without forcing them to rehash their opposing views was kinder to them both.
But kinder did nothing to diminish the pain slicing through her heart, because she loved him, too.
She didn’t miss the irony, either. She, the big bad cop who wasn’t afraid of anything—except for believing in love and happily ever after.
She pressed a kiss to his cheek and rose to her feet. Nausea filling her, she grabbed her bag and headed for the door.
She didn’t leave him a note. She wouldn’t know what to say, and the answering machine message would provide enough of an explanation.
Nick had just left their second try at marriage counseling. Another session of him doing the talking and Angel maintaining her silence.
Nick had had it.
He’d done what was expected of him by his brother and the rest of the family. He’d put himself out there and opened himself up to his wife. He’d reached out and tried to understand—and even accept Angel’s need to run her own business. All before she’d ever given an inch in meeting him halfway.
He was finished trying. If she wanted to fix their marriage, she’d have to come to him.
Rafe jumped up and realized he’d fallen asleep on the couch. Loud banging on his door told him what had woken him, and when he stood, he discovered he was still naked.
Where was Sara?
He pulled on his jeans while the knocking on the door continued. “I’m coming!”
He headed for the door and let his visitor inside. “Nick! What are you doing here?”
“I have to talk to you.” He glanced beyond Rafe and looked around the room. “Where’s Sara?”
Rafe rubbed his eyes, still groggy and half-asleep. “She’s probably in the shower.”
Nick shook his head. “Her car’s gone.”
That woke him up. “What?” He started for the door, but Nick’s voice stopped him.
“Her car’s gone.”
Rafe’s gut churned. “Maybe she went to the store.”
His churning gut denied that possibility.
They’d made love, and she’d taken off?
What the hell… He looked around the family room for a note and didn’t find one.
He headed for the bedroom next. Sure enough, all signs of Sara were gone. From the open suitcase on the floor to the toothbrush in the bathroom and piles of clothes on the floor in between.
Gone.
Rafe walked back into the other room.
“There’s a message on your answering machine,” Nick said, pointing to the kitchen counter.
Feeling like a ball of lead had settled in his stomach, Rafe strode to the machine and hit Play. The captain’s voice flooded the room. “Court date scheduled for nine o’clock in the morning day after tomorrow. Hit the road in the morning. See you soon.”
“Well, that explains the why,” Nick said too cheerfully.
Rafe shot him a dirty look. “We’d agreed that when it was time to go back, we’d go together. She had all day tomorrow to get on the road.”
They’d made love, and she’d taken off.
That explained the why. He’d told her he loved her and then, stupidly, contentedly, fallen asleep.
“What the hell was I thinking?” he muttered.
“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Rafe ran a hand through his hair. “Tell me why you’re here.”
Nick groaned. “Because I’m participating in one-sided marriage counseling, and it’s pissing me off.”
“And you want my advice?” Rafe let out a harsh laugh. “What do I know about love? Sara’s gone.” And it damn near killed him that she could walk out the door after all they’d shared.
“Then get in your car and follow her home.” Nick pointed to the front door. “She can’t have that much of a head start. Go after her.”
“You say it like it’s simple,” Rafe muttered.
“Same way you’ve said it to me.” Nick slung an arm around his brother’s shoulder.
“I’ll go after Sara if you go over to Angel’s and put your foot down,” he said to his brother.
Rafe shook Nick’s hand. “Good luck.”
“Back at you.”
They’d both need it, Rafe thought. Neither one of them was guaranteed the outcome they desired.
Sara wasn’t a crier. She normally didn’t shed tears, yet from the minute she pulled out of Rafe’s driveway after she’d called Coop and given the okay on the fake blog story, the waterworks flowed. Sara understood the tears meant something deep and meaningful. Something she would have to deal with. She even considered turning around and going back, but she was so overwhelmed with emotion, she couldn’t figure out what she was feeling, or even what she’d say to Rafe if she returned.
The one thing she knew for sure, the only thing, was that she had to be in the city to testify. So she kept driving before she could put her focus back on herself and her feelings for Rafe.
She’d barely driven ten minutes out of town on the highway when she caught sight of a car pulled over on the side of the road. A white distress flag had been tied to the antenna.
Sara slowed down to see if the person in trouble was still with her car, and, sure enough, she saw a woman with long hair sitting on the side of the road. The day was typically balmy and warm, the road basically empty, and who knew how long she’d been sitting there waiting for someone to stop and help.
Sara’s cop instincts kicked in, and she pulled over, just in front of the woman and her vehicle. Leaving her car running, Sara walked around toward the woman in distress.
“Can I help you?” Sara called out.
“You certainly can.”
The woman had jumped to her feet, and, as she came closer, Sara realized she looked familiar. “Joy, right? I met you at Angel’s Bed-and-Breakfast, remember?”
“Of course I remember. You’re the reason I came to this godforsaken town.” Joy reached for her back pocket and withdrew a gun.
Sara made the same move, coming up empty.
Off-duty and upset about Rafe, she hadn’t even thought about taking out her weapon to help a solitary woman on the side of the road.
Bad move, Rios, she thought to herself.
“Hands in the air,” Joy said.
Sara slowly complied, raising her hands as Joy’s words finally registered. “What do you mean, I’m the reason you’re here?”