I’m livid. Thoroughly blood-scalding mad. Not even the soft blue shimmer of his eyes can change it.

Not even the boys laughter or the passive-aggressive snowball game we'd just played.

He’d left. Left. And now he’s back as if it was merely the shopping trip to town I’d told Gramps it had been. No, I wasn’t prepared to listen to my grandfather tell me, 'I told you so.'

I had to save face. I’m also not ready to forgive Rex for what he’s done, either.

He lets out a grunt as Adam, then Chase, jump on his back.

“Dog pile Daddy!” they shout, laughing.

His grin, which shouldn’t affect me, but does, says he’s used to this. To them jumping on him. I have to pinch my lips tighter together to keep from smiling.

Bastard or not, he's a good dad. The kind many, many kids never know. Only dream about.

Adam’s face appears over one of Rex’s shoulders, and Chase’s the other.

“Fun snowball fight, Tabby,” Adam says.

“You got him real good!” Chase laughs, nodding at his daddy.

I can no longer fight smiling. Not at those two adorable faces, which I'd missed terribly today.

But after I smile at both of them, I wrinkle my face, looking at Rex. “He deserved to be hit.”

He plants a swift kiss on the end of my nose before saying, “True, I did.” He sits up then, and guides the boys, one with each arm, as they slowly tumble off him and into the snow. He tickles them both. “You two throw snowballs like baseball players.”

Giggling, they roll away and then jump to their feet.

He still has a hold of my arms, and pulls me to my feet while standing.

“You fire snowballs like a machine gun,” he says, not letting me lose.

Inside, I’m fighting the urge to lean forward and kiss him. It’s a battle. One I’m afraid I'll lose. But I can’t. Won’t. “Ass-hole,” I whisper slowly, elbowing him in the side.

“Oof. Guess I deserve that, too.”

“Why’d you leave? Where’d you go?” I bite my tongue to keep a good dozen other questions from spewing out. He’s so flipping gorgeous and flashes of last night criss-cross my mind. One look, and I recall how amazing each and every part of him is.

“We went shopping.”

I pull my arm out of his hold and head for the cabin. He’s more than an asshole. Right now, he’s a stupid fucking asshole. Who's now walking right beside me. Following.

Hissing, so the boys won’t hear, I let it out crisp and clear, “Go to hell.”

“Okay.”

A lightning bolt couldn’t have struck faster or been hotter than the jolt that shoots through me.

He bumps me with his shoulder.

I bump him back, hard.

He laughs.

“Stop. There's nothing funny about what you did, Rex,” I say.

“Not why I'm laughing. I’m happy to be back.”

I’m happy, too, but sure as hell am not going to admit it. No way.

The boys meet us on the porch, each holding a plastic shopping bag. They're too adorable to be mad at. Besides, they have no control over what their father does.

I open the door for them to walk inside. “What did you buy?”

“Cupcakes!” they both shout.

I pull off my gloves and headband. “Cupcakes?”

“Yes!”

Adam pulls a box out of his bag. “Can you make some with the white stuff in the middle like these?”

“Can you, Tabby? Stuffed-cupcakes?” Chase asks, slurring two words into one. “Don't like the brown stuff, it's not very good, but the white stuff's yum!”

Having recreated those commercial cupcakes many times, I say, “Yes, I can.”

“Knew it!” they shout, bumping chests.

If only it was this easy to please everyone.

I hang up my coat before saying, “Tomorrow. But you can eat one of these right now.” Normally I’d say if it was okay with their father, but right now, I don’t have much respect. “There's milk in the fridge, too.”

“Can we, Daddy?”

I should have known. They're simply too well-behaved.

“Sure,” he answers. “And you can watch a movie, if that’s okay with Tabby.”

I nod at all three of them. Good. It'll give me time to bitch-out their father in private. He better not lie to me, either.

While he helps them get their coats and boots off, I go to the kitchen for the milk, pouring a couple glasses. By the time I return, he has them settled on the floor near the coffee table, a cartoon just starting to play on TV.

I set the milk down and open a cupcake package while he opens the other. As soon as the boys are set, I hiss, “The bedroom. Now.”

“Your wish is my command, Cupcake,” he says, smirking.

“It’s not that kind of wish and you know it.” It’s a lie. Deep down, the part of me that isn't scorned totally owns that wish. But I can’t let it rule me right now.

In the bedroom, I shut the door and grab the envelope off the dresser. “What the fuck is this?” I grab the money out and toss it at him.

“To pay for our lodging.”

He’s so fucking nonchalant I want to scream, but can’t with the boys in the next room. “Your job remodeling the barn includes room and board. You knew it when you made the deal with Gramps. I'll ask you again: what is this?”

“I left instructions for the next person. Ideas, notes saying how to finish what I started.”

I pull that sheet of paper out of the envelope. “Oh, I saw them, but that wasn’t part of the deal.” I throw that paper at him. “You're supposed to finish it!”

“I know.”

I grab the last piece of paper out of the envelope. “And this?” I toss it at him. “Two words? Two fucking words?”

I’m sorry. That’s all he’d written.

He shrugs.

“I’m not asking to become your ball and chain, but I deserve more than this! After last night...” I can't finish. I wave the envelope in his face and toss it on the floor, where everything that he’s left inside spills out and scatters. “Do you have any idea how fucking freaked-out I was? I was ready to call the sheriff, see if those creeps after you finally caught up, maybe found you. I was scared, Rex. Terrified. I –” I can't do this.

I shake my head as my throat burns, plugging up and preventing me from going on. Images of him and the boys hurt, seriously hurt, haunted me all day. The hours he was gone were like an eternity in hell.

“Tabby, I'm sorry. So fucking sorry, but I’m fine. The boys are fine.” He steps forward and grips my upper arms. “I don’t know what else to say.”

“How about the truth?” I say. “Why? Why did you leave?”

He shakes his head. “Hell, I don’t know. I thought I had to. That it was the only way, but now…”

I wait. When he doesn’t continue, I finally ask, “But now, what?”

“I realize how much I need you. Need your help, Cupcake.”

He’s serious. Deadly serious. Something inside me opens up. I can't turn him away no matter how big an asshole he's been. I step closer, folding, wrapping my arms around him. “I’ve said from the beginning I’ll help you, Rex. You just have to let me.”

His arms hold me, and I nearly melt inside. I now know why they call it falling in love, because that’s exactly what happens.

It’s like you’re walking along, minding your own business, and then, bam! The floor drops out underneath your legs and you fall. Fall so hard and fast you don’t realize what’s happened until you crash to the bottom. By then it’s too late. You’re fucking in love.

I can’t let him know that. He has enough going on, but I’m glad I realize that’s what happened. And I’m glad he’s back, so glad it leaves my heart in a savage knot.

Jesus. He's home. I'm thankful. Not to him, but whoever or whatever brought him back.

Gramps would've gloated for months, years, the least of my worries.

“This is the safest place for us, Cupcake. For the boys and me. It’s hidden, off the beaten path. Just need a little time to get things straightened out. I’ve contacted someone to help me. A guy I was in the army with named Knox. I mailed him a letter today, asked him to send his response here. I mentioned your name. Did it without even thinking, fucking fool that I am, but I did.”

It's hard not to smile. The idea that he’s finally including me, accepting the help I’ve offered all along, fills me with warmth. I nuzzle his neck with my nose, drawing in a deep breath, relishing how good he smells. “You can stay right here, in the cabin, with me. It'll make things easier.”

He grasps my face with both hands and forces me to look up. “Darling, listen. Don’t know how long –”

“Doesn’t matter,” I say. “However long it takes. I'm here.”

His lips touch mine like gasoline spritzing fire. A wildfire that roars, screams, and soon consumes both of us.

Memories of the many acts we performed last night makes me all the more brazen. His hands are under my shirt, teasing my already tight nipples, and his mouth keeps mine busy.

We’re still standing in the center of the room. I reach down, unbuttoning his jeans. The hardness of his cock sends a shiver of excitement through me. I push down his zipper, reach inside his underwear, and wrap my hand around his erection, excited how marvelously excited I make him.

He breaks the kiss in order to suck in a breath. I stroke his cock.

“Damn, Cupcake,” he mumbles. “Shit. Missed you so much.”

I love how husky he sounds and stroke harder.

“I went shopping, too,” he says. “But didn’t pick out cupcakes.”

Using my other hand, I shove the front of his boxers down, so I can see his cock and give it and my hand more freedom. “You didn’t?” I ask, licking his neck.

He groans. “I picked out a full box of condoms, darling.”

Lightning hits my brain. I suck on the side of his neck. “We’ll need them.”

He grabs my wrist. “Stop. Need to bring them in.”

There’s urgency in his voice, a growl, branding a gentle madness into his blue eyes. I know why. I’m driving him to the brink like he did me last night. It’s weirdly empowering. I shift my legs, already aching wet, giving his cock a long stroke before letting it go. The relief in his sigh makes me smile because he has no idea what I’m about to do.

He steps back to straighten his jeans, and I drop to my knees, grabbing his fullness and lifting it to my lips before he can stop me. I bring him in long and soft and slow, wrapping my lips around him.

“Cupcake!” he groans, but his hands are in my hair.

I’d learned a lot since last night. He likes to be the one in control, the one giving. It's his turn to take it. Hard.

I close my eyes, lost in the taste of him, the way his skin feels as it glides over my lips, in and out. In and out.

He shifts his hips. “Cupcake, fuck, I –”

“Need to relax,” I whisper, licking the tip of his cock. “Relax, Rex.” I take him completely in my mouth again, stroking the base.

He pumps forward. I suck harder and give a little moan to let him know how much I like it. How his cock feels filling my mouth full. I swirl my tongue around him, licking and sucking. Needing.

It's heavenly. I’m thoroughly turned on. Squeezing my thighs together, trying and failing to relieve the steady pulse in my core.

Then there's an abrupt knock on the door.

Nightmare flashbacks of Gramps from early this morning dart through my brain.

“Daddy?” A little voice on the other side.

Holding his cock in my mouth, I walk backwards on my knees until my heels hit the door, holding it shut tight.

He plants both hands against the door and grunts as I start sucking hard again.

“Daddy?”

“What?” he asks.

“Is Tabby in there?”

He holds his breath as I giggle slightly, still sucking his cock, a bit more leisurely now. Slowly, twirling my tongue around the tip between taking him fully in my mouth again. At last I stop, keeping him in suspense, wondering what's wrong.

“Yes,” he says.

“Can we have another cupcake? Ask her?”

I nod, my eyes fixed on his angry, interrupted hard-on. He tries not to laugh.

“Yes,” he growls. “One more. Don't ruin your supper.”

“Hey, why do you sound funny?”

I don’t know if Adam or Chase asked the question, but I'm waiting to hear his answer.

“I'm...I'm blowing my nose, son. I had to sneeze,” he growls. “Go eat your cupcakes! Find a movie like Tabby showed you. We'll be done talking soon.”

“Okay!”

That was definitely two voices at once, and I smile up at him.

He grabs my head and thrusts his hips forward and then back quickly. My mouth returns to his cock, hungrier than before. I’m more than happy to comply. His eyes close and I see the strain on his face, in his neck.

His breathing comes short and quick. So does mine. The pleasure I’m giving him takes me closer and closer to my own climax. I have my thighs tight together. Know I'll peak soon. I suck harder, faster, as much for my pleasure as his, and when he plunges deep into my mouth, my own dam breaks.

The boys have already found a movie, I hear it through the wall, cartoon lasers and heroes taunting villains.

Perfect timing.

I suck his dick harder, taking everything he’s giving, faster. My hand reaches up, presses into his balls. Rex snarls as he leans into the wall, fisting my hair, steeling himself for –

Oh, hell.

His seed rushes into my mouth. Hot and thick and potent. I struggle to keep up with the flood. My mouth quickens, up and down, back and forth, sucking him fully off while his head snaps back, facing the ceiling, contorted.

His cock twitches, explodes, sends fiery jets in my mouth. I swallow them down and try to keep going, briefly wondering how much more there'd be if we hadn't fucked so much last night. What's here...it's plenty. Then I think how it'd feel inside me, shooting in my womb, thick and burning hot.

I close my eyes, moaning into his balls, sucking until he finally slumps slightly. Both his hands are planted against the door as I release his cock. He gently falls on his knees, wrapping both arms around me.

“Fuck, Cupcake. You're good. Damn good. Never felt anything like it before.”

I smile, proud and content. “Then you'll remember what happened here today if you ever want more.”

“I will,” he growls, touching his forehead to mine, taking my lips.

We kiss long and slow and hard. I want to push his hands between my legs, but there'll be time for that later, and a wicked part of me likes the idea of being forced to wait. We should really get out there and spend some time with the boys, maybe try to salvage what's left of the evening.

One more thing nags at my soul. I open my eyes, gazing into his, pinching my fingers in his hands, I say it. “And don’t you ever leave without telling me again. Promise.”

“Never, Cupcake. That's done, God as my witness.” He gives me a long and leisurely kiss, sealing our pact. “Promise. Cross my heart and hope to fucking die.”

* * *

That day starts a brand new pattern. The boys still go to the barn with him every morning, and stay with me every evening, but the nights.

God. Our nights become my favorite time. Even the nights when I have things to do at the lodge and can't come crawling into bed until after he’s asleep, passed out from a full day of work, are wonderful. I’ve never slept as well as I do snuggled up to his huge, warm body.

I’d never slept naked before meeting him, either. But pajamas, clothes of any kind, just get in the way. I gave him a lodge bathrobe for those times the boys need something in the middle of the night.

There's definitely a skip in my step come morning, and I can’t help but smile ninety-nine percent of the time. Especially after a moment like we’d just had. And there are many.

Like this morning, after Gramps took the boys over to Clayton’s to see the younger horses on his land. Left alone, Rex and I had a very mind-blowing quickie in the barn. We're both busy, so besides looks we share that promise more later, it’s rare we get to go for it so early in the day.

I’m heading to the lodge now, to make Gramps his favorite coconut-coffee cupcakes as a thank you. He’s come a long way lately. It's jaw dropping, really. Especially when it comes to the twins. He’s acting like the grandfather I’d wished I’d had.

No regrets, though. Gramps had to be my father, and mother, and grandparent last. That didn’t leave much room for him to be my grandfather full time. Rex pointed that out to me, and I’m glad he did.

The other thing that ‘turned’ Gramps around was Marcy. He’d pissed her off that night in the kitchen, and it wasn’t until after Rex returned that I learned about something they'd kept under my nose for years, yet I’d never seen it.

Marcy and Gramps are more than boss and chef. Which finally explains the many times I've seen Gramps' bed already made when I go upstairs to clean.

They’ve made up, and everything is running as smoothly as possible. It's too perfect.

I frown as I walk up the front steps. Except, our current guest, Alan Schweikert is back.

He’d stayed several days the last time, along with his son, Brandon. He'd left after a half-hearted interview with Gramps, saying he'd be back in a few weeks. Last night, he'd returned as promised, talking up the article he's 'working like hell to finish.'

I'm not sure I like him. I've seen the looks he aims at the boys when they're all in the lobby, by the fireplace, Alan looking up from his laptop like they've interrupted God himself.

He's snappy with his son, too. To be fair, Brandon's a bit of a brat, but that’s not entirely his fault. If his father would just pay some attention to him, he wouldn’t be that way. He'd stop acting out. I'm not even a mother – not yet – but I know it.

Brandon hangs out in the front room now, watching a show on TV that isn’t very appropriate for an eight-year old. At least in my opinion. Some zombie thing with blood and teeth. Extremely graphic special effects. I'm frowning, wondering if I should go over and shut it off, but knowing he'll cry bloody murder if I do. It's also not my place, I know, but this is our lodge.

I look around, wondering where Alan is now.

It’s anybody’s guess. The man seems all over the place, walking the grounds, snapping photos with his phone. On his first visit, Alan said he needed pics for his small paper. Claims that’s another reason he's back now that the photos are 'touched up.'

Weirdly, though, the only people he’s chatted up this time are Adam and Chase, when he isn't shooting daggers out his eyes over the top of his screen. Which I try not to let happen.

The mail arrived while I was in the barn, too. I pick up the stack and carry it to the office, sorting out the junk I’ll file in the trash can.

There’s an envelope addressed to me, with no return address. I set the rest down, open the envelope and pull out a single sheet of paper.

Dear Ms. Danes,

Please tell R.O. to call me ASAP. Thank you.

K

That’s it. No name. Just a number scrawled under his neat writing.

R.O.?

My heart leaps into my throat. This must be the man he contacted. Knox. The old army buddy.

I stick the letter in the envelope and walk out of the office.

“Ah, there you are, Tabby!”

I turn toward a voice I'm in no mood to deal with. “Yes. Is there something you need, Mr. Schweikert?” I make a point of not calling him by his first name. I don’t want to be on a first name basis with this weirdo.

“My son, Brandon, wants to see inside of your barn. Horses and kids, you know...”

His smile looks as false as the rest of him. Slimy is a better way to describe him. His hair is slicked back and even though it's neat it hides too much of his head. “I’ve explained before that the barn's under construction, sir. No guests are allowed out there until the project's complete and passes inspection. No horses, either. Our few retired animals have been temporarily moved while the work finishes.”

Try to smile. Try to be nice. Gramps told me as much, says it's good marketing if we can get him to lend us a glowing review. He does work for a major newspaper in a Detroit suburb. Supposedly.

Alan's smile vanishes. “He...he won’t touch anything. Honest. I’ll make sure of it. He’s just curious. I'd also love a chance to shoot a few more pics. The stable's one of your oldest buildings, isn't it? Mr. Danes said his father had a refinery there in the old days making moonshine.”

Brandon’s still on the couch, staring at the TV and hasn’t looked away. I really wish Gramps hadn't told him so many intimate family details.

I shake my head, trying to soften the blow. “Sorry, sir. Rules are rules. It's a big liability if anything goes wrong.”

“Well, then...perhaps we need to find other accommodations.”

His threat is actually my hope. I reach under the desk for the copies I rarely need, yet keep handy. “Here’s a list within a fifty-mile radius. There's a Best Western closer to Marquette, within an hour.”

I regret the words as soon as they're out. Kind of.

Damn it, I want him gone, but it's losing money and I promised Gramps. And lately, he's actually been decent. He really wants this stupid article.

“Sir, if you'll reconsider, I'll talk to my grandfather. I'll see what he can do. Maybe we can set up a quick supervised tour, or something.”

Alan's face brightens. “Wonderful. Just what I was hoping to hear!”

I purse my lips, studying him. Maybe he really is just an odd bird after a story. I've heard sometimes reporters are that way.

Still, I have a gut feeling I shouldn’t leave him alone in the lobby, but there isn’t anything he can steal, other than the ancient ten-year-old guest computer that he’d never figure out the password for. I turn and walk out the door, anxious to get the letter to Rex.

The grin he gives me when I push open the barn door fills me with delight.

“Back for more?” he asks. “Already?”

“Not quite,” I say, closing the door behind me. “Well, maybe after...”

He laughs. “Thought you were going to make cupcakes, Cupcake?”

I shake my head and plant a quick kiss on his lips before I hold up the envelope. “This just arrived.” I take out the letter and hand it to him. “Is it your friend?”

I already know the answer. His expression is priceless, a hope like I haven't seen fills his eyes.

He reads it quickly, and then flips it over to see the other side.

“That’s it,” I say.

“Let me see the envelope.”

I hand it to him. “No return. Phoenix postmark.” He huffs out a sigh and examines both the letter and envelope again. “Shit.”

His tone concerns me. “Wait, it’s not from your friend?”

“Must be,” he growls, shaking his head. “There’s...just not enough here for me to be certain. For all I know, it could be a trick.”

That doesn't add up. How would they know? Then again, what do I know about the monsters he's dealing with?

I take the letter. “Here, I’ll call the number.”

He frowns. “Tabby...”

“And ask a question only you and him know the answer to.”

His face lights up. “I like it.” He kisses me. “Have I told you today how fucking glad I am we met?”

“Well, maybe not today,” I say, laughing. My heart hums happily. “Come on, we can use my phone in the cabin.”

“Isn't there, like, a business cell phone? Something without your name attached to it for the lodge?”

I roll my eyes. “You know my grandfather. We'll use my landline.”

“Right. Stupid question.”

As we’re leaving the barn, I say, “Lock the door. I don’t want anyone sneaking in here and getting hurt.”

He does, and then as we’re walking towards the cabin says, “If it really is Knox, the call could take a while. You should go make your cupcakes while I talk to him.”

I read between the lines and shake my head. “Oh, no. You aren’t getting rid of me that easy.” Looking at him as we walk, I add, “No more secrets between us. Not in the bedroom or out of it.”