A dark house meant Grace and Nate hadn’t made it back from the diner. If Grace had been home, every light in the place would have been burning. She didn’t like being alone. It was probably why she had so many companions.

The carnival-crash-kiss sequence had taken its toll on me, so I pulled out the extra blankets and pillow that Ryker had brought over and made a bed on the couch. I didn’t have the heart to make a pregnant woman sleep on it, so it had become my new bed. I’d slept on worse. Hell, a few weeks ago I’d been sleeping on a pile of clothes in my room.

One look around the house and I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was a home. A real home with real furniture and walls the color of sunshine. I owed much of that to Ryker. Almost daily he showed up with something that I lacked. Yesterday it had been a lamp.

As soon as I pulled the tattered string, the soft glow of light filled the living room. Curled into the corner of the sofa with my computer in my lap, I Googled the town of Fury. Instead of looking at the town’s webpage, I scrolled through the results until I came up with something that said massacre. There wasn’t much listed, only that two rival gangs had gone to war and dozens of people had died. The deceased weren’t listed.

Was this the incident that had molded Ryker into the man he was today? He’d been at my house more than his own over the past few weeks, but I knew nothing about him. All I really knew was that he was handy and an excellent kisser.

I closed the browser and looked through my emails. The slew of new messages caused me to smile. I’d set up shop on Fiverr and offered to do any graphics work I could. Mostly I was making logos for indie authors and fliers for garage sales, but every dollar counted, and through word of mouth, At Flight Graphics was getting business. Not the kind of business I’d dreamed of—I wasn’t developing brochures for Fortune 500 companies—but I was making enough to pay my utilities and get a little extra work done on the house. For now, that was enough.

The door handle shook, and a moment later, Grace walked in alone.

I slid my computer to the end table, another gift from Ryker.

“Where’s Nate?” I didn’t know where their night had taken them. Was it only the diner, or was it something more? Grace wasn’t one to be cautious. That was obvious by her bouts of morning sickness and her tightening pants.

She hadn’t decided what to do yet about her situation. She was burning up unpaid sick leave and hanging out with me until she had an epiphany.

“Hey, slut,” she said to me as she walked in. Grace threw her purse on the floor in the corner and collapsed on the sofa next to me. In her hands was a white Styrofoam container.

“Slut?” I looked at her with a did-you-really-say-that look. “I’m not the one with the expanding waistline, my friend.” There was no judgment in my voice; I loved Grace, and I’d be here for her no matter what. But if we were talking about sluts, Grace came closer to that description than I did. I could still count my sex partners on one hand. Well, maybe one hand and a finger from my other hand. In this day and age, that was almost virginal.

“I saw the way you two were looking at each other.” She opened the box to reveal a huge slice of chocolate cake and two plastic forks.

I picked up a fork and shoved a bite into my mouth, hoping that she’d drop the subject if I were eating. “Mmm, this is good,” I said with my mouth half full.

“Swallow and tell me everything.” She pulled my blanket over her legs and forked a bite of cake. “Did you kiss him? God, I hope so. The tension around this place has been so tight.”

I could feel the heat of my blush rise to my cheeks. Was the glow of the light too dim for her to notice? I prayed so.

I got my answer when I looked up and saw her wide grin. “Did you have sex with him?” She looked down at my makeshift bed and swiftly stood. She turned around like a dog chasing its tail and looked over her shoulder toward her butt. “Ew, did I get anything on my pants?”

I picked up the pillow and swatted at her, almost knocking the cake from her hands. That would have been a crime because the cake was amazing.

“No, I didn’t sleep with him. We rode the rides and came home.”

Grace narrowed her eyes at me. We’d been friends since I could remember, and it was hard to get anything past her. She was like a walking lie detector.

“I want to hear it all.” She licked a bit of chocolate frosting from her lip and settled back onto the couch.

I told her about the rides and the maze of mirrors. I told her how we’d crashed and about the asshole sheriff.

“What about the kiss?” She leaned forward like she was watching a movie and the good part was about to start.

I sat back and closed my eyes, reliving the kisses we’d shared in the back seat of my Jeep. “He’s an excellent kisser.”

She reached over and pulled my hair. It was such a childish thing to do. “That’s all you got for me?”

“What do you want me to say? He tasted like funnel cake and sex? He made my lady parts quiver and hunger for more? He made me forget my life was shit for a second?”

She rolled her body back a bit. Just enough to take a good look at me. “Is all of that true?”

I couldn’t lie to her. I wouldn’t lie to her. “Yes, every single word is true.”

She closed the box, leaned forward, and hugged me. “Looks like you found your hawk.”

I touched my hand to my lips. They still tingled from his kiss. “Maybe I have, but what about you? Are you making a move on Nate?”

She shook her head hard enough to jumble brain cells. “No way. I mean I like him, but I’m trying out something new.”

“Oh yeah, what’s that?”

“Men as friends. It’s a concept I’d never considered, but it’s amazing what you can learn about a man when he isn’t buried inside of you groaning.”

“Do tell.” I pulled the corner of the blanket up to my chin.

“I can’t explain it, but he’s different from most guys I meet.”

Grace wasn’t speaking like she normally did when the topic was men. The way she talked about Nate was different. There was no lift of the brow, purr of her voice, or lick of her lip. She was building her first friendship with a man. My friend was growing up, and it was about time because soon she’d be raising a child of her own, and she wouldn’t be able to do that and act like a child herself.

“He’s different because he’s not a rooster.” Nate was handsome for sure, but he wasn’t a pretty boy—preppy, maybe, but in no way pretty. “What will you do with a man you aren’t having sex with?”

She giggled and covered her mouth with her hand. “I am so out of my element.” She raised her head and looked at me. “What will you do with a man you’ll be having sex with?” Her hands went to her stomach.

“I’ll enjoy every inch of him.” I thought about the giant of a man and knew he was big everywhere. “Isn’t it time I enjoyed something?”

Grace covered a yawn and rose from the couch. “I think you should let me sleep here.” She fluffed the pillow where I would lay my head.

“Nonsense. I’m happy to let my pregnant friend sleep in my bed. By the way—” I looked at her stomach, “—have you decided what you’re going to do?”

“I’ve decided to keep the baby. The rest I’ll figure out along the way.” Her expression wasn’t one of a happy pregnant woman, but one of a woman confused, yet I had faith in Grace. She was strong, and she’d come out of this okay. “Thanks for everything, Ana.”

I looked around the house and smiled. “Isn’t it amazing that out of my anguish we have a place of sanctuary on a street called Abundant in a town called Fury?”

“Imagine that,” she said before she disappeared down the hallway.

I pulled my computer back into my lap and worked on a new logo. This one was for a horror writer who wanted his name drawn in blood. While I tried to get the drip just right, I heard a noise on the side of the house. A peek out the window showed the shadow of a man. I hunkered down and peeked over the arm of the sofa. The glow of a cigarette ember lit the dark night. Something was familiar about him. His height and breadth could only be one man—Ryker. I relaxed, ran my fingers through my hair, and straightened his flannel shirt over my body. I hadn’t taken it off because it was comfortable. It felt right.

My feet wanted to run to him, but my mind told me to walk slowly. To race to him would give him too much power, and giving Ryker the upper hand wouldn’t be wise. He was short tempered and moody and used to living by his own rules. Grace was right; my hawk was a predator, and if not approached with care, he could pick my bones clean.

I opened the door and stepped onto the porch. A soft wind swirled around me, bringing the scent of him. That was Ryker, clean and fresh and strong. A tinge of smoke wafted in on the breeze, and I scrunched my nose. That wasn’t Ryker, or at least I didn’t think it was. “You smoke?”

He pushed off the trunk of the enormous oak tree and tossed his cigarette to the ground, smashing it with the toe of his boot. Out of the shadows, he stepped in front of me. “Generally no. But when I’m stressed, yes.” He dropped his head as if shamed.

I don't know what compelled me to touch him, but I couldn’t resist laying my hand on his chest. I felt his heart thumping under my fingertips. “What stresses you?”

“Everything stresses me. Sheriff Stuart. This damn house. This damn town. It all stresses me the fuck out.” He kicked at the dead grass under his boot. “You stress me out.”

“Me?” I gripped the edge of his jacket. “Me? Why?”

His gaze lasered into me. “When you dropped me off, I went upstairs and tried to sleep, but I couldn’t. I’m fighting with myself.” He reached for my cheek. His fingers sure and able. His touch soft. “I want you.” He threaded his hand through my hair. “I know if I have you, I’ll destroy you. I destroy everything I touch.”

He leaned closer and then stepped back, but didn’t drop his gaze. Didn’t drop his hold.

I leaned in. I wanted him closer. I wanted the kiss he was denying me.

“Fuck it, I’m weak when it comes to you.” He pulled me into his arms, and his lips crushed mine with a ferocity I’d never experienced. I tried to throttle back the dizzying current that raced through me, but it was no use. If Ryker was intent on destroying me, I was a willing victim.