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“And I think you do a good job. The fact that you’re here right now shows that you’re not as bad as most. Especially in this town.”

She raises big, sorrowful, blue eyes to mine. “I’m sorry people have been so unfair to you and your sister.”

It’s my turn to shrug. “Nah, don’t be. We’ve earned most of it. I’ve pissed off enough people in this town to get that ‘trouble’ label fair and square.”

“Is that all you did? Piss people off?”

I reach out to glide my fingertips up one of her smooth calves. “There might’ve been a few corrupted daughters and compromised wives in the mix. I can’t remember just now.”

“Compromised wives?” she balks.

“Hey, I was young. And they were . . . needy.”

“Oh my gosh! You really are a bad boy.”

“Don’t wilt on me now. You were so close.”

“Close to what?”

“Coming to the dark side.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Yes, you were. You can sense how much fun it is to stop worrying about what other people think, to just enjoy life as much as you can. We only have a handful of short, sometimes painful days on this earth. You’ve gotta take your pleasure where you can get it.”

“Is that what you’re offering me? Pleasure?”

I sit up and lean toward Laney. She doesn’t back away, just watches me. I can hear as much as feel that she’s holding her breath. “Isn’t that enough?”

I edge in closer and lick over her bottom lip with my tongue.

“I don’t know,” she says softly.

“It can be. You just have to let it. You just have to realize that you’re better off without love. It makes people weak. It makes people lose their common sense and they end up hurting each other. Listen to you! Love has brought you nothing but pain and suffering. But I can make all that go away. I can take your mind off the hurt. Make you feel better than you’ve ever felt before. You just have to let me.”

“I don’t know if I can just jump right in like this,” she whispers.

“That’s okay. Jumping can be fun, but so can . . . exploring. As long as we’re on the same page, with the same expectations, we can’t go wrong,” I assure her, reaching forward to circle my fingers around her upper arm and tease the curve of her breast with my thumb.

“So where do we go from here?”

As much as I’d like to go straight to banging her head against my headboard, I know that’s not the smart move right now. So, I bite back my frustrated sigh and opt for a long kiss instead. When she feels a little more relaxed, a little more pliant under my hands, I lean back.

“We go to bed,” I declare, biting her chin and giving her thigh a teasing slap. She yelps playfully and I wink at her. “And we see what we can get into tomorrow.”

“So just fun? No pressure, no promises?”

“Just fun. Lots and lots of fun.” I scoot to my place in the bed and lift an arm, waiting for her to curl up against me, which she does. When she snuggles in and I hear her contented sigh, I smile.

And lots and lots of sex.

That’s my last thought as I drift off to sleep.

ELEVEN: Laney

I growl at the skillet and pull it off the heat. The other one is already in the sink, sitting in hot water.

Laney, what were you thinking?

What started out as an attempt at cooking breakfast has morphed into a nightmare. First, I should’ve checked to make sure I could find everything I needed before actually beginning to cook anything. The kitchen looks like a demilitarized zone, and I’m pretty sure the house will smell like burnt bacon forever.

Coughing draws my attention toward the doorway. Jake is standing there in jeans that hang perfectly on his hips, a bemused grin on his face and not a scrap of anything else. His hair is sticking up at weird angles and I’m positive I’ve never seen anything more mouthwatering.

“There are easier and much more pleasant ways to wake me up than trying to smoke me out of the bedroom.”

“You said you’re a fireman. I’m testing your skills. You passed,” I say with a cough, my eyes watering so badly I can hardly see.

Jake walks around the island and props open the back door. Einstein, his giant, white-haired dog that I met last week, is sitting on the back porch, whining.

“Quick! Grab a Milk-Bone from the jar on the counter. You’ve deeply offended Einie’s delicate sense of smell,” Jake says. “You must make amends.”

I can’t help but grin as I grab the treat and head for the door. I step outside, give the dog his bone, and drag in a gulp of fresh air. Jake follows. Puffs of thick gray smoke are wafting out the door.

“Sorry about your bacon.”

“Is that what that is?”

“Part of it. It began as an omelet, toast, and bacon, but it quickly deteriorated when I realized that I had no idea where anything was in your house.”

“Like what? The off switch on the stove?”

“Ha. Ha. No, I mean like spatulas.”

“Spatulas? Likely story.”

“No, really. Everything was coming along just fine until I realized I had no way to flip the omelet.”

“And then . . . chaos!”

“Exactly. Once the eggs started burning as I scrambled around looking for the spatula, they got all my attention for a few minutes. At that point, there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t save the bacon.”

“Okay, first of all, burnt eggs, scrambling around, saving bacon—I can’t be expected to ignore any more clichés, so consider yourself warned. Secondly, why the big, elaborate breakfast?”

I shrug. “I thought it was the least I could do since you weren’t mad that I hijacked your bed for a couple of nights.”

“How could any man in his right mind be mad about that?”

“Because it’s so rude! It’s not like I asked or anything, which I should have. I was just so mad! And then, once I left my parents’ house, I realized I had nowhere else to go. If I’d gone to the Sleep Inn, they’d have found me for sure. I mean, it is the only hotel in town.”

“Well, now you have a place to stay, so you don’t need to worry about it.”

“Oh, no. I couldn’t impose on you like that.”

“It’s not an imposition. It’s an opportunity.”

His grin is devilish.

“Dare I ask what kind of opportunity?”

“I don’t know. Do you dare? Are you up for it? Are you really ready to take a walk on the wild side?”

“I . . . I . . . I guess that depends on what all is involved.”

As if sensing my hesitation with where the conversation is going, Jake shifts into a lighter form of attack. Lighter, but no less effective. I can feel him wearing down my defenses with every passing second.

“Well, considering we just survived a nearly fatal breakfast,” he begins.

“I’d hardly call that ‘nearly fatal.’”

He ignores my interruption. “I should probably perform a thorough physical examination,” he continues without missing a beat, stepping closer as he talks. Jake winds his arms around my waist. “Just to make sure there are no burns on your body. Or even red places. You know heat can make the skin feel very . . . sensitive. I’d be sure to treat any . . . sensitive areas right away. Massage them until they feel better. Much, much better.”

My head is swimming—whether from oxygen deprivation or from Jake, I can’t be sure—and a sublime feeling of contentment is threatening to overcome me. I should be leery, but it’s hard to concentrate on much of anything when Jake is gently swaying against me, his lower body rubbing mine.

“As professional and . . . thorough as that sounds, I’m afraid there’s a big mess to clean up now.” Even as I decline his clever offer, a fire is still burning, this one in the lowest part of my stomach. It’s a fire I know will soon need attention. And Jake will be the only one who can do anything about it.