“You’re going to get spotted.”

Ryan hipchecked her and kept walking, pulling his ball cap a little lower on his brow. “No, we won’t. Look at us. Not a bit of glitter eyeshadow to be found. We’re practically unrecognizable.”

Denver glanced at the rest of the group in front of them. There was no denying they’d all taken care with their appearances. They’d waited to show up until dusk, a disguise of its own at a dusty, crowded fair. Everyone was decked out in tank tops, faded jeans, sneakers, and ball caps, and for the ladies, little makeup and ponytails. They were doing their best to blend in as regular people, and so far, they seemed to be doing a good job.

Except for the whole traveling-in-a-pack thing, though already the band was breaking up into little factions. Lo and West were far in front, because she was on the search for her friend Professor Ethan, who they were meeting soon. Behind them, Michael was strolling along with Elle on one side and Molly on the other. Jules and Randy were in the middle, stopping at every game booth to point out something or another. Mal was off to the side, thumbing through stuff on his phone and occasionally glancing up to glare at whatever fool was dumb enough to bump into him or cross his path.

She and Ry were bringing up the rear, so far back they were barely with the rest of the crew. So yeah, they were together, but not. Much better for not getting spotted. All it took was one overzealous fan to call them out and their ruse was over.

So far, so good.

But Denver was worried. Lately, it seemed as if worrying was all she did, especially when it came to being recognized. That she wasn’t the one on the hot seat this time didn’t tamp down on her nerves.

“You’re not enjoying this at all.” Ryan slipped his hand in the back pocket of her jeans and tugged her against his side, leaning down to brush a kiss against her temple. “This is supposed to be fun.”

When she bristled, he sighed. “No one is paying attention to us. We’re at a fair, Den. And we’re friends. The band has seen us hug before.”

“And kiss?” she retorted.

“Sure. I kiss your ass all the time.”

She poked him in his stupidly rock-hard abs and fought a smile. “One of us has to be practical. If the band gets noticed, who do you think will have to go running for the getaway bus?”

“Us, because I’m not letting you out of my sight tonight.”

Her skin warmed. It was almost impossible for her not to react to every sweet word he said or his quick, hot glances. He affected her in a way no other man but—

Nope. That wasn’t for tonight. Wasn’t for any day ever again. The past was dead, and she was with Ryan. At least for tonight, she could be with him without barriers or boundaries or fear.

She owed him that much.

“Think I need a bodyguard, Waters?” She gave in to the urge to tip her head against his shoulder.

He made her feel small in all the best ways. As if he could overpower her at any time, but she’d enjoy it. He never used his power to control her in ways she didn’t like.

She shivered. The exact opposite.

“No, I think I want everyone here to know you’re mine.”

Sure she’d misheard him, she drew back to study him in the dwindling sunlight. The last rays were fading, but all the booths and stands had lights of their own, as did the midway itself. His face was strobed a rainbow of colors from the dizzying array of lights around them, but all she could see was potent, focused green. His eyes were like lasers, burning into hers. Chasing away everything but him in her mind.

He rubbed her ass through the pocket of her jeans, his idea of subtlety. “You’re staring, Colorado. Keep those feet moving.”

Swallowing hard, she forced herself to keep going. People nudged them from all sides, and the laughter and shouts from the other fairgoers diminished any chance for real conversation. Just as well, because this probably wasn’t a chat they should have here. Or anywhere.

They were supposed to be friends with benefits. That was the deal. Possessiveness had no place in their equation, outside the agreement to be exclusive while they were involved. But that wasn’t what Ryan meant. If she’d had any doubts, the intensity in his eyes had answered that question without hesitation.

He wanted more. She’d suspected as much almost right away, though she’d tried to tell herself she was imagining things. Because if she acknowledged he was looking for a real relationship, that meant she needed to put on the brakes. She could give him her body, but the rest wasn’t open for negotiation. It wasn’t only her job on the line.

She wouldn’t risk him. Even if that risk was so tiny as to be infinitesimal, she’d never take the chance.

“How do you feel about foosball?” He nudged her shoulder and inclined his chin toward a tent a few feet ahead with myriad game tables. “Bet I can smoke your ass.”

“Yeah, right. You know I whip your butt at everything even resembling a game. Including answering Jeopardy questions.”

“Dream on. C’mon.” He stopped stroking her ass long enough to snag her hand and aim for the tent. “We’ll see who ends up on top,” he added over his shoulder, waggling his brows.

“We should let the others know we’re splitting off.”

“Mike,” Ry yelled, catching Michael’s attention. Michael glared back at him, and Ryan laughed. He knew Michael hated being called Mike, so he did it now and then just to piss him off. “See ya in a few.” He pointed at the tent and Michael nodded.

“There. All notified.”

Once Michael had been tugged away by Elle toward an archery booth on the opposite side of the midway, Ry stopped them just outside the shade of the tent and wrapped his arm around Denver’s shoulders. Then he pulled off his hat and laid his mouth full on hers.

She gripped a handful of his shirt and inched up on her tiptoes to get as much of his mouth as possible. He slanted his head, delving deeper, and she couldn’t stifle her moan. His answering one echoed in her head, and she couldn’t keep from tormenting them both by tilting her hips against his. Rocking into him while their tongues tangled under the warmth of the setting sun was like a fucking slice of heaven, and she couldn’t get enough.

Even the niggle of awareness along her spine, as if they were being watched, wasn’t enough to make her pull away from him. Nothing was.

“Jesus.” He pulled back after a moment and rubbed her lower lip with his thumb. “Let’s just skip the show and go fuck.”

She had to laugh as she grabbed his hat and put it back on his head, adjusting his wayward curls. “Such a romantic.”

“That’s why you love me.” He grinned and tugged her into the tent.

Her heart sped and she tried to swallow over the sudden grit in her throat. In the old days, if he’d said that, she would’ve taken it at face value and thought nothing of it. Now every comment had a weighted meaning. She had to be careful not to miss any signs.

She had before, and she’d nearly lost everything. Including herself.

Not that Ry was a danger to any part of her but her heart. It was the possible danger she represented to him that had her waking up drenched in sweat. If the past found her, if what her uncle had done and all the steps she’d taken to protect herself and her family weren’t enough, she wasn’t the only one directly in the crosshairs this time.

Now there was Ryan.

The bad dreams didn’t put Ry off. Nothing seemed to. And because she wasn’t strong enough to resist, she clung to him when he whispered soothing things to her in the dark. Always making sure she was okay, no matter how many times she tried to nudge him away.

Always being her best friend, even if she didn’t deserve it. She was lying to him, after all, and had been since the day they’d met. It was getting harder by the minute to convince herself that what he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him.

“Red or blue?” Ryan asked, circling the only free foosball table in the back.

“Red.”

He deposited some coins in the slot and gave his guys on their rods a testing spin. “Oh yeah, nice and smooth. Prepare to be decimated.”

She flipped her own levers and wiggled her shoulders to dispel the tension. Enough was enough. “Bring it.”

They hogged the table for close to twenty minutes. She won the first game, and he won the second, but she tapped her watch after he demanded a tie-breaker.

“Wanna miss the show? The grandstand is on the opposite side of the fairgrounds. We have a lot of distance to cover, and we want to get there while there’s still enough room on the lawn for us to sprawl out. And dance.” She said the last part on a whisper, but of course he heard her. He didn’t miss a trick.

“Did you say dance?” He came around the table and wrapped her ponytail around his hand to draw her closer. “Why, Denver Casey, you surprise me.”

The name chased the smile from her face. Stupid, since she should be used to hearing it plenty by now. That was the woman she’d become. Who she was, down deep. But the memories that accompanied it always struck her in the chest like a wrong note being played. One that reverberated in her ears and soured everything but his grin.

Nothing could dim the power of that.

“Don’t think I can bust a move, huh?”

“That particular phrase makes me a little nervous, but I think you can do anything you put your pretty brain to.” He lowered his mouth to her ear. “So this means I get to watch you shake your ass?”

“Watch? Who do you think’ll be dancing with me?” She cocked her head and lifted her brows. “Unless you’re a chicken.”

“I know where my talents lie, and dancing just happens to be one of them.”

“No way.” She reeled back to see if he was putting her on. But nope, his face was in earnest mode—though that could’ve been a fake. He had a good poker face.

Another place she wasn’t dwelling on tonight. Good things only, please. She was making it a requirement.

“Dancing’s like fucking with your clothes on, and I’m basically an expert at both.” He laughed and feinted backward as she pelted his chest with blows. “It was right there. You had to know I’d go for it.”

She slid her arm around his waist and kissed the side of his neck. “And I walked right into your trap.”

“You like my traps. They’re so dark and warm and moist,” he said, adding extra emphasis to the word he knew she hated.

She shook her head at him. “Funny guy.”

“I am. And you’re a beautiful girl.” He drew her outside to the darkened midway, now only lit by the rainbow of colored lights that decorated the booths and the sodium lights that stood high above the well-worn footpaths. The play of hues flickered over his face an instant before he pulled off his hat and kissed her again, quick and hot.

Just a taste. Not even close to enough.

“Cotton candy?” he asked while she was still catching her breath.

“Caramel apple,” she corrected. “With nuts.” He started to speak and she pointed. “If you make any sophomoric jokes about your nuts, you’ll be getting laid by your hand tonight.”

“So harsh.” He set his hat back on his head and diverted her to the candied apple booth a few stalls up the midway. “So you want extra nuts, right? Big, salty ones?”

She rolled her eyes at him. Such a boy. But he bought her an apple dripping with thick, gooey caramel and the perfect amount of nuts, so she’d tolerate him. Until he tried to get a bite of her apple, and then all bets were off.

When she growled as he leaned in to sample it, he grinned. “Greedy much?”

Her gaze drifted to a young woman with long blond hair and big eyes checking out Ry’s ass, and her growl deepened. And she lifted her apple to his mouth. “Take a big bite, baby,” she whispered in her dirtiest voice, making his eyes widen before he complied.

Her laughter nearly made her bobble the apple.

He bit in and drew back to chew, and somehow even the movement of his jaw was sexy. So not right. He immediately leaned in for a second bite, extending the moment with his eyes on hers.

Chewing an apple shouldn’t be foreplay, but with this guy, it was.

“Delicious,” he said once he’d swallowed, and she was fairly certain he wasn’t talking about only the fruit.

Cheeks heating, she quickly grabbed his hand and tugged him up the midway, his laughter ringing in her ears.

She’d never heard a better sound.

They stopped a few more times. There was a souvenir tent that had a crapton of team jerseys. He even found some Raiders gear buried under the local teams. Ry was so proud of himself he insisted on buying it for her. After she tossed out her decimated apple, he tugged it on over her tank, mumbling something about the wind. She would’ve sworn she was dressed up in a ball gown by the way his expression went heavy and dark.

Her nipples responded in kind, tightening under her tank. He noticed that too, so she grabbed his hand and dragged him toward the pay stand. Otherwise they’d probably end up making out in a shadowy corner and miss the show altogether.

“No way,” he said, picking through a tray at the checkout. He pried out best friend keychains in the shape of—of all things—a pair of hummingbirds. The wings interlocked.

She shook her head. “Seriously?”

He wasn’t listening to her, because he’d already whipped out his credit card to pay. The instant the charge went through, he deposited hers in her palm and closed her fingers over it, sealing the gesture with a kiss that made the people in line behind them clear their throats.

“Can I get a best friend like yours?” the teenaged checkout boy asked, his cheeks red.

Ryan chuckled and wrapped his arm around Denver’s shoulders. “Not sharing her, sorry.”

Once they were outside again, the faint sounds of country music reached Denver’s ears. “Shit, that’s gotta be the opener.”

“Nah, it’s the opener’s opener. We got time, baby.” He swung their hands between them, pointing at a guy guessing ages and weights. “Wonder what he’d guess about us?”

“That you’re crazy and going to make us late for the concert?”

“Wise-ass. No, better yet, look at that.” He indicated the purple tent with a revolving crystal ball out front. “Tarot card reading. They have couples’ ones. Let’s go.”

“Dude, you can’t be for real. Tarot? No. That stuff is so fake.”

“So? If it’s fake, just listen and enjoy.”

“It’s a waste of money—”

But he was already pulling her along, and she didn’t have the heart to tell him no.

That was becoming a bad habit of hers.

In no time, she found herself seated beside him in front of a folding card table covered in flowing orange and purple fabric. The older woman smiled at their linked hands, because Ryan seemed to have an aversion toward letting her go. She couldn’t say she minded overmuch.

It was nice just holding hands and having fun with someone she cared about. Or it would be if she could chase away the prickle of anxiety that kept popping up every time she looked behind her. She just couldn’t settle tonight.

Probably because she was waiting for Ry to be discovered. That had to be it. Not that it would be a crisis, but screaming women and being swamped for autographs would kind of put a damper on their relaxed evening.

“Couples reading, is it?” The woman drew a pack of cards from a basket adorned with fake flowers and surrounded by hunks of crystal. “How long have you been together?”

“Not long enough.”

Denver shot Ryan a look under her lashes, but he was too busy smiling earnestly at the tarot card reader to notice.

“Your energy together, it’s very good. I sense a lot of mutual love and respect between you.”

“Yes, respect for sure,” Denver said swiftly, pretending not to notice how his grip slackened on her hand.

“Love is there too,” the older woman said. “No matter what you call it, the feeling is the same.”

She handed the cards to Denver. “Please shuffle them. Then when you are finished, allow your young man to do the same. This way, you are transferring both of your energies to the cards.”

After releasing Ryan’s hand, Denver accepted the deck and shuffled as requested. Her grip wasn’t steady, and her palms had grown slick. Silly. She didn’t believe in this mumbo jumbo. No reason to get freaked that the tarot would see something dire in her future.

Their future.

Ryan shuffled them next, and then they went through a routine of picking different cards that the older woman placed in strategic places on the table. She flipped them through one at a time, giving a short explanation and asking questions. The Sun card made the woman ask them their professions, and she seemed quite certain that Ryan was headed for greatness with “his band of compatriots.” He hadn’t specified he was in a band, just said he was in the music business, but it probably wasn’t a huge leap that he made music with others.

Still, Denver had to fight a shiver.

The tarot card reader flipped over another card. Death. She smiled slowly and stared right at Denver. “Death isn’t necessarily a negative card. Often it merely means a change. A rebirth of sorts. You’ve experienced one of those, haven’t you?”

Denver laced her fingers together in her lap and let out an uneasy laugh. “Sure. I switched from college to driving a bus. You can say that’s a change.”

“Not just a change of circumstances. You transformed. The woman before me right now isn’t the same—”

“I’d like to think so.” Denver knew her voice sounded stiff, but there was no helping it.

She’d known this was a mistake.

“Your scars run deep,” the woman said softly. “You fear the past is chasing you—”

Denver jerked to her feet. “Actually, no, I’m most afraid of missing the concert we have tickets for.” She glanced at Ry, who was staring at her as if she were a stranger. “Can we go now?”

When he didn’t move, she skirted her chair and stumbled through the murky darkness until she reached the flap of the tent. She didn’t look back before ducking outside.

And she kept right on going.