The bathroom still smelled like Raptor, and she groaned when she opened the bathroom door, and his scent washed over her. On unsteady legs, she slid out of her jeans and t-shirt and turned on the water. Tired or turned on, she wasn’t sure which was taking more of a toll on her composure. A glance in the mirror explained why he thought she was exhausted. The dark circles under her eyes and her pale cheeks made her look like one of the walking dead. The stress was catching up to her. Why couldn’t the world just leave her alone for a while? She’d paid enough of a price, hadn’t she?

When she came back to Montana, she’d started over, modified her plan and opened the bakery. She enjoyed running her little shop, it was most of what she’d dreamed, but not exactly the happily ever after she’d hoped for in Paris.

They’d had so many plans for the future. Her parents were going to help her open the bakery. They had a little apartment that was close to the magazine Jim worked for, and she hoped to find space for the bakery near there. The competition would have been fierce, but she’d loved Paris. Things changed though, now she couldn’t think of it without seeing the blood all over the pavement, the screaming of those injured, and gazing into her parents’ unseeing eyes.

With the water sluicing over the tense muscles of her shoulders and back, tears formed and she brushed them away. She’d shed countless tears, for days, no months afterward, probably most of the time she’d been in the hospital healing from her own wounds. The worst had been the trip back to Montana with the two caskets. Jim’s family had insisted he be brought back to the family plot in Boston and they’d taken his body while she was still in the hospital. She’d never met them, and they hadn’t stopped by when they collected his body. It was strange, but he’d told her his family was old money and they’d objected to his career choice.

Yup, it was time to move on. Maybe a fling with Raptor was just the thing she needed to push her out of her comfort zone. She’d been so engrossed in her thoughts, she never heard Raptor knock on the door.

“Are you okay? Rori? I’ve been knocking.”

“Oh. Yes, I’m fine. Sorry.” Mortified he might see her she didn’t know what to cover first with her hands. If anyone had seen it, they would have laughed. “Did you need something?”

“No. Just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“Well, I’m fine. Really, just enjoying the heat of the water. I’ll be out shortly so you can leave now.”

“You sure you don’t want some company?” Oh, did she ever. But no way. She was still deciding if this was the path she wanted to travel, and no way did she want his first view of her body in the bright light of the shower. Candlelight would be so much better, or darkness… that would work.

“No, I think I’m fine by myself. Could you shut the door you’re letting the cold air in?” He wasn’t really, but she needed him to leave before she accepted his offer.

Hearing his chuckling as he closed the door didn’t help anything. But hearing the decisive click when it closed made her sink against the tiled wall and breathe a sigh of relief. Hornier than a teenager, she needed to stop this flip flopping around like a crazy woman. It was time to shit or get off the pot as her mom used to say. Mom would have liked Raptor. Her dad too probably, or he would have won him over eventually. Shaking her head, she finished rinsing the soap off and climbed out of the shower.

She’d totally forgotten to bring fresh clothes into the bathroom. It wasn’t her usual routine since she lived alone. It didn’t matter if she walked around in a towel. But it mattered today. Ready to kick herself, she pulled open the door enough to peek out and see if he was around. When the coast looked clear, she ran to her room and closed and locked the door, and leaned against it like she’d been running for her life. What the heck was she doing? Laughing until tears poured down her cheeks, she couldn’t believe she just did that. She was thirty-one years old, and definitely not a virgin, so why was she fighting the attraction so hard? And why was she running to her bedroom to hide like a fifteen-year-old?

“Everything okay in there?” His knock made her laugh even harder.

“Yeah, everything’s fine. I’ll be right out,” she said while trying to catch her breath.

“Are you sure? You sound kind of hysterical in there.”

“Yup, it’s all good. Go check on that salad, it might be wilting.”

“Okay good idea.” As he walked away, she snorted. It was the first thing she could think of to tell him to do. Check on salad, seriously? And he did it? Wow. He really did need help with this kitchen skills.

Pulling herself together, she grabbed a pair of yoga pants and an oversized t-shirt, then pulled her thick curls into a messy bun. Keeping it up was a lot easier to deal with, and a necessity in the bakery, even if it wasn’t her most attractive look. Chewing her lip, she considered getting out her blow dryer and adding a little makeup. Hearing his footsteps in the hallway again killed that idea. What was he doing? Patrolling the hallway to keep her safe? Giggling again, she pulled open the bedroom door and almost walked headfirst into his wall of chest.

“You do know it’s only the two of us here, right? I don’t think you need to be on patrol.”

“Um, I wasn’t exactly patrolling.”

“No? You checked on me three times in less than a half hour. And unless I’m mistaken you were about to do it again.” Looking sheepish, he gave her a gentle smile.

“You’ve been through hell for the last few days. Give a guy a break for wanting to make sure you’re okay.” Well, when he put it that way she felt bad for saying anything, but only until he opened his mouth again.

“You do know I’ve managed to take care of myself for most of the last thirty-one years, right?”

“You’re that old?” He said what? Oh no he didn’t. That old?

“Did you just say I’m old? Because if you did you better remember to lock your door tonight or you might find yourself knocked over the head with my cast iron skillet.”

“Well, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No? Why don’t you try to dig yourself out of that hole, and I’ll check on the quiche?” Following a few steps behind her, she could almost feel the wheels in his brain turning trying to figure out what to say next. She wasn’t mad. It was funny, and she’d been trying to hold back her laughter knowing she’d put him on the spot. It was nice not to be the one squirming about what to say for a change.

The quiche wasn’t quite done, but it was getting there. Checking on the salad she was impressed at his prep skills, maybe there was hope for him yet. “Nice job on the veggies.”

“I tried, I figured you’d want everything bite size, so I had to cut them down a bit.”

She smiled to herself as she checked the full salad bowl. He’d chopped everything to the same size. It surprised her that he’d thought about what he was doing. The rare instances she’d convinced Jim to help, he’d do just enough to finish and not caring how it turned out. Most of the time she’d have to go back and fix whatever he’d done.

“Good to know we don’t have to start with Salad 101 and go right into cooking eggs.”

“What? I thought you were kidding about the cooking lessons.”

“Nope. Everyone should know how to cook the basics at least.”

“I don’t need to. I’m never home and when I am the last thing I want to do is spend time in the kitchen. I’d rather grab a beer and watch whatever game is in season.” That didn’t surprise her, but she didn’t plan to back down. Although if she was trying to keep him at arm’s length, teaching him to cook and bake wasn’t the way to do it.

“How much longer ‘til that egg pie thing is done? I’m starving.”

“Quiche, it’s called quiche. Not long, but we can have the salad first if you want? Do you want a beer with dinner?”

“Are you going to have one?”

“I’m going to have a glass of white wine. I only keep the beer for guests.”

“Do you have a lot of guests?”

“No, not that it’s any business of yours.” Damn, she’d gone and done it. Got him riled up again. Just when she thought they’d have a peaceful meal and maybe he’d forget about the conversation he’d promised they’d have.

Pulling the bottle of Pinot Grigio out of the refrigerator, she reached for a glass, while she waited for his next question. He surprised her.

“I’ll have wine too.”

Raising her eyebrows, she grabbed another wine glass from the cabinet. Then carried the bottle and glasses over to her small dining room table. It would be the first meal she’d shared with anyone since she moved in. It was kind of nice. Who was she kidding? Having him around was wonderful and exasperating at the same time.

He followed her with the salad. “You know, I didn’t mean you were old. It just came out wrong. I thought you were barely into your twenties, you look very young.”

“Nice try.”

“Seriously, angel. I figured you were way too young for me.” Raptor grabbed her hands and stopped her from heading back to the kitchen. He tilted her chin up, so she had no choice but to look into his hazel eyes. “You’re beautiful, amazing, and I want you in case you haven’t already figured that out.”

“You want me?” her voice came out in a high squeak. He grinned, but the intensity in his eyes didn’t lesson.

“Yes, angel. And for as long as I can have you. I know I should wait until you’re not my client, but I’ve been searching for you for two long years already.”

“You have?” Why couldn’t she make sentences longer than two words?

“Yes, I have. I’ll explain everything if you let me. Just know that I’m serious, I want nothing more than to make love to you. I will wait until you’re ready but don’t doubt for a minute that I want to make you mine.”

She must have looked like she was impersonating a fish. Her mouth opened and closed while she tried to come up with something to say, but he saved her. Before she could utter a word, his lips took hers, his tongue demanding entrance to her mouth. He pulled her close and crushed her against him leaving her no doubt that he’d meant what he said if the erection pushing against her belly was any indication.

The passionate kisses made her knees weak, and she grabbed his waist to keep from falling.

***

If he didn’t stop now, he’d carry her down the hall to her room. Killing him as it was, he had no choice. He’d just made her a promise to let her set the pace. With a groan that echoed through his body, he released her lips and took a step back.

“I’m sorry. I just got done saying I’d wait.”

“It…it’s okay, really. I just…”

“I think the egg pie might be burning.” You can take the man out of the military but not the military out of the man. In this case, always aware of his environment and any changes.

“What?”

“Dinner?”

“Oh no.” She ran into the kitchen and opened the stove with him following closely on her heels.

“It doesn’t look too bad.”

She gave him an ‘you’ve got to be kidding’ look while shaking her head. “Damn. I don’t remember burning anything since I was ten.”

“I bet we can just cut off the crispy edges and it’ll be fine.”

“It’s egg based, it will have absorbed the burnt flavor.”

“How about we give it a try? I’m game if you are?” She didn’t look convinced, but in the end, their hunger won out. It had accomplished one thing, he might as well have dumped ice water on them. The mood was toasted.