“No, sweetheart. And you take it easy in there. Don’t be standing on those feet too long.”
“I’m fine, Pop,” she assured, kissing him on the top of his head of thick gray hair, then nodded toward the street. “That must be Fallon.”
Whipping his head to the driveway, Rafe watched as Fallon pulled the blue Jaguar into the driveway.
“Come on, Pop. I’ll sneak you some salmon if you keep me company while I cook,” Tilly said, holding the screen door to the house open.
Pop stood up. “Lead the way, darlin’.”
• • •
Fallon turned the ignition off and glanced at herself in the rearview mirror. Tired eyes stared back at her, and her hair had lost some of its volume from when she’d blown it out smooth and full that morning. Gently she bit her bottom lip in hopes of adding a little color to them. She’d fluff her hair, pinch her cheeks, and smack on some lipstick, but she could feel Rafe watching her from the porch.
Normally she wouldn’t feel so self-conscious. But she wasn’t just seeing Rafe again.
She was meeting his family.
Her mouth went dry at the sudden realization and nausea crept into her stomach. She’d known him only a couple of weeks and could count on her fingers the number of days she’d spent with him.
This was fast—too fast. Plus, she wasn’t good with families—it wasn’t exactly as if hers had been an ideal model.
Sucking air into her lungs, she pulled her shoulders back and looked at Rafe, his eyes glued to hers. She couldn’t turn back now.
Heat blazed low, fast, hard. The need to be with him fluttered along her skin. When it came to Rafe, her body never gave her a choice.
Opening the car door, she stepped out and looked up at Rafe, who was leaning against the short wooden railing that lined the porch. From what she understood, Rafe had all brothers and one sister-in-law. Men she could handle. It was the sister-in-law that she was slightly concerned about. The only woman in a family full of men was bound to give another woman hell.
She smiled at him and he returned that lopsided, perfectly unperfect grin that made her do that whole swoon thing again.
He was in a T-shirt and jeans, his tattooed arms hanging loosely at his sides, hands shoved in his pockets. The jeans were worn and tattered, as if he’d owned them forever, thinned out and softened from years of use. His feet were crossed at the ankles and he just stood there against the rail watching her, taking in the sight of her just as she was him.
“Hey, gorgeous,” he said as she finally climbed the few steps to meet him on the porch.
“Hey.”
“I take it you found the house okay?” he asked, straightening himself from the railing.
“GPS is a wonderful invention.”
His hand reached out, wrapped around her nape, and before she knew it he had pulled her into his arms. His scent smothered her, encased her. It was delicious, smelled so good. Like Rafe. Like nicotine and an earthy soap. A spicy, heady aroma just barely noticeable on his skin.
She leaned her face into his shoulder and inhaled, breathing him into her lungs, then lifted her head and kissed the side of his neck. The way her lips pressed along his warm skin startled her for a moment. Her body, her lips, her hands were moving of their own volition, leaving her mind and her defenses to play catch-up.
His fingers clasped around her chin and he pulled her face up to look at him, dipping his head down to hers. “I’m glad you’re here.” His breath bathed her, fusing the intoxicating warmth of his mouth with the comforting scent of his skin.
She hummed in satisfaction. “Me too.”
And he smiled. It was genuine. Not one of those he used to use when attempting to weaken her resolve. She’d realized he’d figured out that little trick by the second day she’d spent with him.
But the smile on his face now was rewarding, because she knew she’d put it there.
She was waiting for it, anticipating it, but even then, when his lips finally closed the small space between them, she sighed. His mouth moved tenderly, softly, sensually. He hadn’t kissed her this way before. Almost careful, and it was over way too quickly.
“Come on, babe,” he said, running his hands up and down her arms, adding heat to her chilled body. “Let me introduce you to everyone.”
“Okay,” she replied, and his hand coasted around to its secured spot on the small of her back. She smiled at him and he winked, leading her into the house.
A groan mewled from her lips, helplessly softening by the warm aroma that hit her face when she stepped inside into the living room. “Oh my god—is that the chocolate cake?”
She hadn’t seen Marco lying on the couch until he paused the football game on the TV and popped his head up. “Sure the hell is, little lady. My cakes have been known to make a woman orgasm on the spot. Fair warning,” he jested.