He’s always wanted her. Now’s his chance to claim what’s his.

School teacher Marceline Bellini gave up everything—men, sex, anything resembling a social life—to raise her young daughter. To be the perfect parent. But when she attends an engagement party in her standard stick-in-the-mud mode, her friends begin plying Marcy with shots. Just enough to convince her that a little fun doesn’t sound like a bad idea... and having some naughty fun is an even better one.

Like finding herself deliciously pressed against a dark alley wall by the very familiar and very hot body of her best friend’s older brother.

After years of waiting in painful silence, police officer Aaron Robinson finally has Marcy’s attention. And man, does he have it. But nothing could have prepared either of them for the rush of fiery lust between them. So he’ll just have to convince Marcy he’s for real. And that a rainy, lust-fuelled romp is the first step to a lifetime of completely imperfect happiness…

HIS TO

A OUT OF UNIFORM NOVEL

KATEE ROBERT

Table of Contents

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Epilogue

Acknowledgments

About the Author

Other Books by Katee Robert

The Come Undone Series

The Out of Uniform Series

If you love sexy romance, one-click these steamy Brazen releases...

Out of Control

No Strings Attached

Wilde for Her

Down for the Count

Marine for Hire

Drive Me Crazy

Staking His Claim

Her Forbidden Hero

Fighting for Irish

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Copyright © 2014 by Katee Robert. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

Entangled Publishing, LLC

2614 South Timberline Road

Suite 109

Fort Collins, CO 80525

Visit our website at www.entangledpublishing.com.

Brazen is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC. For more information on our titles, visit www.brazenbooks.com.

Edited by Heather Howland and Kari Olson

Cover design by Heather Howland

ISBN 978-1-62266-567-9

Manufactured in the United States of America

First Edition April 2014

To Bailey and Connor. You’re never going to read this (seriously, save us all the therapy bills), but this one’s for you.

Chapter One

Marcy Bellini looked around the bar and wished she were anywhere else but here. Right about now, her daughter would be winding down and getting ready for bed. Marcy’s favorite part of the evening was when Claire crawled into her lap for a little mommy-and-me time. They’d watch Claire’s favorite movie of the moment—inevitably a princess one—and snuggle until she was so sleepy, Marcy had to carry her to bed. If she concentrated, she could almost smell the faint lavender of her daughter’s shampoo instead of the stale beer and conflicting colognes of the men around her.

She snatched her beer off the bar and smiled her thanks to Gena. The woman gave her a grin in return and waggled her eyebrows. Everyone seemed to be doing something like that—nudging each other or grinning at Marcy like they were in on a joke she didn’t understand. It had started the moment she’d walked through the door of Chilly’s, and as people drifted inside and out of the warm spring night, it was only getting more obvious.

Maybe they’re just looking at Bri. It is her wedding party, after all.

While that might make sense, she couldn’t shake the feeling they were all staring at her. Maybe it was just what people did at bars. It wasn’t like she’d spent any time in them in the last four years. She’d hopscotched right over that wild stage most of the girls in her graduating class went through. There had been no one-night stands or drunken adventures or trips at the drop of a hat.

She had no regrets about that, though. Claire was the center of her universe and there was nothing as wonderful as relearning to see the world through her three-year-old’s eyes. Everything was new and exciting, and she towed Marcy along on adventure after adventure.

What was drinking herself stupid and making bad decisions compared to that?

She dropped into the seat next to Bri, needing to get out of her head before she talked herself right out the door. “This is…fun.”

Bri laughed. It was strange to reconcile this glowing woman with the shy librarian she’d met just two years ago, but falling for the younger Flannery brother had brought Bri right out of her shell. Marcy still remembered Ryan from high school, though, he’d been a few grades ahead of her. He’d blown town so fast after graduation, she’d been sure he’d never come back.

But she’d been wrong about a lot of things back then.

Bri nudged her. “I know this isn’t your thing, but you need this.”

“That’s up for debate.” She didn’t need this. She loved her life. It wasn’t traveling or any of the exciting plans she’d had before graduation, but it was comfortable and filled with the little delights she’d never known existed.

“When did you last have actual grown-up time?”

“I played bridge with Miss Nora and her ladies—and you—last week.”

Bri sighed. “Playing cards with a group of old ladies hardly counts—something Ryan never hesitates to point out to me. I mean something like this.” She motioned at the room around them.

“You’re one to talk. You hate the bar scene.”

“This isn’t a bar scene. This is a party for Ryan and me.” She glanced over the top of her black cats eyeglasses at the Flannery in question. He was leaning against the wall and watching his older brother take his turn at the pool table. There were other friends scattered around the room with the rest of the locals, but that didn’t lessen Marcy feeling like she had a spotlight pinned on her face.

After an hour, she could leave without being a terrible friend, couldn’t she? “It’s been fun, but it’s getting kind of late—”

“Don’t you dare.” Bri grabbed her hand like Marcy was going to bolt out of the door at any moment. Obviously her friend knew her too well, because she was in the process of inching out of her chair. “You have a sitter. A wonderful sitter who Claire loves. You’re going to take full advantage of it.”

“But—”

“No buts. You should do shots! Since I’m pregnant and stuck with ginger ale, I’ve got to live vicariously through someone.”

Marcy laughed and stopped trying to slide away. “Shots? Who are you and what have you done with that nice girl, Bri Nave?”

“You mean Bri Flannery, don’t you?”

They both looked up as Ryan took the seat across the table, closely followed by his brother Drew. Seeing them side-by-side was enough to make most females in town swoon. Both men were of the tall, dark, and handsome variety—the kind who made women sit up and take notice. But she’d seen enough over the years to see the Look but don’t touch neon sign flashing over Drew. He was Wellingford’s most eligible bachelor and Marcy would be old and gray before he settled down. Not to mention, tonight he looked as out of sorts as she felt, even if the lovebirds beside them didn’t seem to notice. Drew glanced at his watch. “Avery’s late.”

“We’ve gone over this.” Ryan rolled his eyes. “She’s waiting for a shipment. She’ll be here after it’s delivered. And, for the last time, no, she doesn’t need you over there and underfoot while she’s doing it.”

Before he could say anything else, Gena approached with a tray. She winked at Bri. “I heard someone say something about shots.” She set two milky-looking shots in front of Marcy.

“Two?”

Gena winked. “One for you and one for you to have for Bri.”

“Good lord, it’s a conspiracy.” She frowned at the people around the table. “You can’t all be working against me.”

Bri grinned. “I prefer to think that we’re working for you, despite you. You have a lot of living to pack into one night.”

“I think you’re under the mistaken impression that I need to get out more.” Getting out meant leaving Claire behind with a sitter. No matter how good a sitter she found, they weren’t a replacement for Marcy. And her daughter wasn’t a burden to be foisted off on someone else when having her around got inconvenient.

“Not more. I’d just like to see you actually having a good time when you are out.” Bri gave her a pointed look. “Which, coincidentally, is right now.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to protest that she was having a good time, but it wasn’t strictly the truth. She’d been dragging her heels since Bri showed up at her front door earlier. Every time she looked at her phone, she was half hoping that the sitter would call her home. Marcy sighed. “I’m being a stick in the mud, aren’t I?”

“That might be kind of a—”

“Yes, you are.” Drew motioned at her with his beer. “You need to live a little, Marcy.”

“I don’t know. I think you live enough for both of us.”

He laughed, looking completely unrepentant. And why would he? He had no idea how heavy even welcome responsibilities could get. But maybe he was right. Maybe she did need to let down her hair a little bit. And it wasn’t like doing it tonight meant she was jumping onto the slippery slope of neglecting Claire’s needs in favor of her own.

Marcy eyed the shots in front of her. They didn’t look particularly appetizing, but Gena wouldn’t steer her wrong. She braced herself and took one. It went down surprisingly easy, leaving a yummy watermelon taste behind. An answering warmth started in her stomach and she shot Drew a triumphant grin. “I can live a little.”

“There you go.”

Bri leaned forward and inhaled. “It doesn’t make any sense. I don’t even like shots, but that smells so delicious.”

“You’re pregnant. Nothing is supposed to make sense.” Marcy laughed, some of her tension melting away. Both Bri and Drew were right—she needed this tonight. She just had to relax and enjoy it.

Gena reappeared. “Everyone’s come out tonight, and they’re all determined to run me ragged.” She passed two more beers to the Flannery boys. “These are from Old Joe.”

They raised their beers as one, and Marcy followed their gaze to find Old Joe sitting at the end of the bar. He raised his beer in response and grinned. Then his gaze landed on her, and his grin widened. Oh no. She knew that look. He was about to start meddling. He hopped off his bar stool, more spry than any man his age had right to be, and nudged the young guy next to him.

Crap. Marcy turned back to the table, already feeling a flush spreading up her neck. The second shot did nothing to bolster her courage, but it was too late to flee. Besides, she was supposed to be letting her hair down. That meant she couldn’t hide in a corner to avoid Old Joe’s matchmaking attempts. Crap again.

§

Aaron Robinson nursed his beer in the corner and watched the rest of the room. Everyone was laughing or talking animatedly and the overall vibe was a good one. There’d be no big dramas tonight. When his gaze landed on Marceline Bellini for the seventh time in thirty seconds, he gave it up for a lost cause and just looked.

It had been a while since he’d seen her in more than passing at the grocery store or walking down the street, though, even those encounters had become more and more infrequent. She’d become something like a princess in a tower, building up the wall between her and other people until it was damn near unassailable.

Though not all other people. She had friends—and he knew for a fact she never missed Miss Nora Lee’s weekly bridge game—but she’d effectively closed the door on any man who got too close.

Including him.

Hell, who was he kidding? He shouldn’t even be looking at her. She’d been best friends with his little sister since high school, and there was something just plain wrong about wanting her as much as he did.

Besides, he understood why she’d taken the stance she had on men. She had a kid—a frighteningly adorable little girl who looked just like her mama—and that responsibility was something Marceline took seriously. She’d move heaven and earth for her daughter, and that kind of dedication didn’t leave much room for dating. A mixed blessing if there ever was one—he wouldn’t have to watch her with someone else, but he had no chance with her, either.

Aaron watched her take a shot and laugh at something one of the Flannerys said, and tried to convince himself that he had no business walking over there and striking up a conversation. He’d promised himself he’d stay away from Marceline. For a lot of reasons.

But then Old Joe popped up next to the table with his grandson in tow. Aaron strained to pick out what they were talking about, but the dull roar of the crowd drowned out any possibility of eavesdropping. There was no mistaking the way Warren looked at Marceline—like he’d just been offered a buffet of his favorite foods. It didn’t matter that the kid was a good boy from all the stories the old man told—he was a goddamn Marine and those guys were all cut from the same cloth. Marceline, of all people, should know that. Her asshole of an ex had up and joined the Corps, leaving town—and his pregnant ex-girlfriend—without looking back. He’d had the pushy asshole aspect down to a science.

Just thinking about it had Aaron clenching his hands and fighting against the urge to pound some sense into the idiot kid. Warren didn’t know the history he was dealing with. He saw an exotically beautiful woman who seemed interested, so of course he was smiling. The little shit probably thought he could charm his way into her panties and then head back to whatever base he was stationed at without a second thought, leaving Marceline to once again pick up the pieces.

Over his goddamn dead body.

She took Warren’s hand and stood, the way she filled out that dress nearly making Aaron groan. These days, it seemed like every time he saw her, she only got more beautiful. She didn’t dress for attention, but those sundresses she favored when the weather was warm did unforgivable things to his blood pressure.

And now the goddamn Marine was looking even happier as his gaze raked over her. God damn it. He wasn’t a good enough man to sit here and let her jump into a mistake like Warren. She deserved better than that.

Or that was what he told himself as he finished his beer and stood, not bothering to slouch like he often did in a crowd. He wanted Warren to see him coming—and hell if the little shit didn’t catch sight of him over Marceline’s shoulder.

Fuck this.

Either she felt him at her back or she followed Warren’s gaze, because she rotated on her bar stool and took him in, an unreadable expression on her face. He hated that, hated how she seemed so damn effective at blocking him out, even if he’d been doing his damnedest to stay away from her for the last ten years. The ever-present conflict inside him didn’t do a thing to help him resist the need to throw her over his shoulder and take her away from this place. This man. “Marceline.”

She grimaced. “Don’t call me that.”

It was the same conversation they’d been having for years, ever since he found out that his little sister’s best friend’s real name wasn’t Marcy. Back then he’d enjoyed seeing how much he could rile her up. Now he just liked the feel of it on his tongue. “What are you doing here?”

She frowned harder, and he realized how harsh he’d sounded. He met Warren’s eyes over her head and telegraphed, Get lost, fucker. The kid held his gaze longer than he would have expected, but he finally shrugged and stood. “I’ll see you around, Marcy.”

“What? Wait.” But it was too late. Warren was gone, heading across the bar to where Old Joe had set up camp with his old poker buddies. Marceline turned back to him and frowned. “You didn’t have to run him off. He’s a nice guy.”

“He’s a Marine. None of them are nice guys.”

Her eyes flashed. “I think I’d know more about Marines than you would, Aaron. Let me make my own mistakes.”

Her own mistakes… It dawned on him that she’d actually been considering following through on something with Warren. What the fuck? Aaron stepped forward, forcing her to part her knees. This was closer than he let himself be to her in years, but he couldn’t back away. “You were playing with fire with that kid.”

She met his gaze coolly before turning to take the shot in front of her. It smelled fruity, but it had nothing on whatever perfume she wore. “Don’t be silly. We were just going to dance.”

“I saw the way he looked at you. Dancing wasn’t what was on his mind.”

“How would you know what was on his mind?”

Because he’d had the very same thoughts more times than he cared to count. All the ways he could seduce Marceline Bellini into giving him half a chance. “He’s a man and a Marine. He was going to try to take you to bed.”

Her chin went up, and he knew he was in trouble. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

“Well, now—”

Then she went on and ruined his night. “Besides, maybe I was thinking the same thing.”

She’d actually been thinking about letting that asshole have his way with her?

The roaring in his head competed with the red filtering over his vision. He counted to ten once, twice, and a third time. It didn’t do a damn thing to calm him down or give him the distance he desperately needed to deal with this without pissing her off.

That was the problem, though—he’d never had enough distance when it came to Marceline Bellini.

While he was trying to get control of himself, she was finishing the second shot next to her and stacking the glasses. “Obviously that ship has sailed, so…” She met his gaze and trailed off at whatever she saw on his face.

He could only imagine.

He’d come home on leave from the Army at twenty-two to discover that Erin’s awkwardly pretty best friend had morphed into a woman so beautiful, she made his chest ache. It was a blessing he’d had to leave again for another tour or God knew if he could have resisted her back then. By the time he was back in town for good, she was dating that jackass, Jeff. It hadn’t been easy to watch him treat her like shit and then up and leave her with a new baby on the way, but the single time he’d tried to offer to help, she’d shut him down so thoroughly, he’d backed off.

There had been so many times over the years when he’d thought about asking her out, but something had always kept him back. First it was that she had enough to deal with finishing up college with a brand new baby. Then, when the dust had settled, she barely gave him the time of day. She’d seemed determined to put herself as off the market as physically possible.

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “You decided to get back out there by going home with another goddamn Marine.”

She crossed her arms over her chest and glared. “Sure, why not? He’s a decent enough guy, and he’s gorgeous.”

It shouldn’t surprise him she thought Warren was gorgeous. It seemed like every single woman in town did. But that didn’t change the fact that hearing her admit it aloud made him want to kiss her until she forgot that fucker’s name. “Not him, Marceline.”

“You can drop that protective older brother routine. I’m not seventeen anymore, and I’m more than capable of making my own decisions.” When he just stared, still trying to get ahold of his temper, she threw up her hands. “Lord, Aaron. According to you, no one is good enough for me.”

Because it was the truth. He could still remember spending those two weeks he was home running off any boy that looked at her sideways.

Apparently he didn’t respond fast enough, because she huffed out a breath. “If not Warren, then who?”

“Me.” The word fell between them as if it was a physical thing.

Her mouth dropped open. “What?”

It was too late to back out now, and hell if he wanted to. He’d been patient. He’d been more than willing to take the white knight route and let her live her life and take care of her daughter. It was the right thing to do. But he wasn’t saint enough to sit back and let her put herself out there with another man right in front of his face. “If anyone is going to take you off the shelf, it’s going to be me. No one else.”

Marceline licked her lips. “You.”

“Yeah, me.” He let himself look his fill, from her cowgirl boots to her fitted jacket to the flowery dress that hugged her breasts and fell to her knees. Up to her tousled dark hair, to those eyes that held a new awareness. Awareness it would take a better man than Aaron to ignore.

He held out his hand. “Come on.”

Chapter Two

Marcy let Aaron lead her out of the bar and wondered if Gena had thrown a little something extra into those shots. It was the only explanation for what she��d just heard. That, or the countless fantasies she’d concocted over the years had finally sent her around the bend. Because there was no way he’d just told her he wanted her. It was impossible.

She jerked her hand out of his, needing to get this thing between them back on stable ground before she did something embarrassing. Like admit that she wanted him, too. “Enough. You’ve run off Warren and I’m safe from the big, bad Marine. You’ve done your duty.” Just like he had during the two weeks he was home back when she was seventeen. It was just as frustrating now as it had been then.

Attractive, yes, but frustrating.

“This has nothing to do with duty.”

Maybe she shouldn’t have poked at him about Warren, because he was acting like a dog with a bone. And she was the bone. She fought the urge to fan herself despite the rain coming down, already well on its way to soaking her. “Sure it does. You saw me making a mistake, and you moved in to prevent it.”

“Marceline.” For the first time in her life, the sound of her full name didn’t make her cringe. Coming out of his mouth, it sounded like a benediction. He closed the already tiny distance between them, and the look on his face was one she’d never seen before. “The only mistake you made was thinking I’d let you walk out of here with another man.”

She stood frozen as he leaned closer, her mind jumping ten years into the past when she’d spent her junior year doodling Mrs. Aaron Robinson over every spare inch of her binder. She’d put a lot of thought into what kissing him would be like, how he’d be soft and gentle and make her feel like a princess.

In none of those fantasies did he growl against her lips and take her mouth as if it had been his all along.

He claimed her with that single kiss as she’d never been claimed before, silently demanding she open to him, an order she was only too happy to obey. She slid her hands up his chest, whimpering a little at how good he felt against her. He was busy with his own exploration, his big palms smoothing down her sides and over her backside as he maneuvered them around until her back hit the cool brick of the wall. One of his thighs slid between hers, the shock of hard jeans-covered muscle against her panties making her gasp.

She pulled back to say… It didn’t matter, because he palmed one breast, tracing his fingers over the now rain-soaked fabric of her dress. The feel of his calluses against her sensitive nipples had her entire body shaking.

He felt it—how could he not?—and gave her a wolfish grin. That was an expression she’d never thought would be aimed at her.

Marcy took a shuddering breath and let go of the last of her reservations. Tonight she was living a little. Tomorrow she would be back in the safety of her roles as mother and teacher, and her comfortable safe life. Tonight…tonight she was going to give into this man and how terrifyingly good it felt to be touched by him.

She kissed him back for all she was worth, arching into his hand and wrapping one leg around his waist. Aaron took advantage of the new position, shifting his hips until he could slip a hand between them, moving up her thigh.

But he stopped a few inches short of what should have been his destination.

And then he stopped kissing her, too, and rested his forehead against hers, exhaling harshly. That’s good because she couldn’t seem to catch her breath, either. “Marceline—”

Oh hell. He was going to do something honorable, like try to stop this. Next he’d tell her that he never had any intention of defiling his baby sister’s best friend, and go back inside Chilly’s.

Damn it, no. She was trying to let loose and he was in danger of ruining everything. So she did something a little bit shady and a whole lot of pushy. Marcy took his hand on her thigh and pressed it to her panties, holding him there. “Aaron?”

He jerked back—not enough to break contact, but enough to see her face. “Yeah?”

God, he really wasn’t making this easy on her. She took a shuddering breath and rocked against his hand. “Do you feel how much I want you?”

His voice dropped an octave. “Yeah.”

“Then don’t stop.” Please don’t stop. She hadn’t been touched like this in a terrifyingly long time, and if he left her like this, she might just die right here and now.

He cursed, and she knew he wasn’t walking away. Aaron kissed her, reclaiming the tiny distance between them that he’d created. He pulled aside her panties and dragged a finger over her. “Yeah, I can feel you.”

Being touched so intimately out here in the open with the rain creating a mist around them did something for her on a level she hadn’t known existed. She ran her hands under his shirt, needing to feel his skin beneath her fingers. He was just so big. She wanted all that skin laid out where she could take her time touching him.

That wasn’t going to happen, even if she’d had the patience for it.

She unbuttoned his jeans and dragged the zipper down. He sprang free, totally unencumbered by such small details as underwear. Holy crap, had he been going commando all these years? Aaron hissed out a breath, growling her name again. But she wasn’t stopping and she wasn’t slowing down.

“Greedy, aren’t you? I can be greedy, too.” He responded in kind, shoving two fingers into her and nearly making her eyes roll back in her head. He kissed down her neck as he worked her, overloading her body with sensation, until all she could do was cling to him and feel.

Her orgasm threatened, dangling just out of reach. “I need you, Aaron.”

He cursed. “Fuck, Marceline, are you sure?”

She wasn’t sure of anything but the fact she needed Aaron inside her right this second. Even if he didn’t have desire pounding a demand in her blood, the knowledge that she’d never get a chance like this again settled in the back of her mind. “I’m sure.”

He cursed again, and she thought he might stop touching her, but he just yanked her panties off and pulled a condom out of his wallet. He rolled it on and stepped back between her legs. It’s actually happening. He lifted her and she didn’t waste any time wrapping her legs around him. The new position had his hard length rubbing over her clit with each breath, driving her need higher.

But Aaron kept her pinned so she couldn’t adjust their angle. He gripped her thighs, sliding over her until she thrashed against him. “Please!”

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be—”

She kissed him, cutting off his words. Who cared what it was supposed to be? All that mattered was the here and now and getting him inside her. She tried to convey that with tongue and teeth, needing him on the same desperate page she was. He responded in kind, hiking her up until he pressed against her entrance. When he took a deep breath, she had the hysterical thought that maybe he really would call the whole thing off, but then he slammed into her, sheathing himself in a single stroke.

This was perfection. There was no other word for it.

He withdrew and shoved back into her, the move sending bliss spiraling through her body. She moved as much as the position would allow, needing him deeper, taking her harder, driving away anything that wasn’t the feel of him inside her. “Right there, that feels so good.” She dug her nails into his shoulders, but it did nothing to keep her connected to earth as her orgasm shot through her. “Aaron.” He cradled her head as he kept thrusting, following her over the edge.

The first thing Marcy registered was the weight of her wet hair tangled over her shoulders. Then she opened her eyes and realized she was pinned against the wall outside of Chilly’s with Aaron still inside her. He smoothed his hands over her thighs and up to cup her backside, allowing him to move back enough that his weight no longer kept her pinned to the wall. It didn’t create much space, but it was too much. Or not enough. She couldn’t be sure.

All she knew was that there was no mistaking the possessive glint in his gray eyes. What they’d just done was supposed to be about getting her out of her shell for just one night. The look on his face didn’t fit with that. She wiggled until he set her back on her feet. Thank God she wasn’t in high heels, or her buckling legs would have sent her to the ground.

Marcy cleared her throat. “That was…” Hot. Dirty. So damn good.

“Perfect.” He stroked a thumb over her bottom lip and smiled. “Though, this isn’t how I pictured our first time.”

Whoa, Nelly. He’d pictured this? She lowered her eyes, because she wasn’t sure how to respond to that. Because she’d pictured what it would be like to be with Aaron, too, even if it was only ever supposed to be fantasy. The sad truth was that reality blew fantasy out of the water. “I should go before someone comes looking.”

“Right.” He dipped down and kissed her, a light, sweet thing that was completely at odds with what they’d just been doing. He hesitated, his lips a bare breath from her own. “I’ll call you.”

Oh God. No, no, no, no. This wasn’t supposed to be anything but a fun time that stopped when the sun came up. She took in the stormy dark sky. It didn’t look like the sun would ever come up, and hell if that wasn’t something she couldn’t deal with right now. Aaron was wonderful, but he was also a complication she had no room in her life for. The precarious balance she had was too delicate to throw something as… She didn’t have words to describe him right now.

How quickly could she change her number? If she called AT&T as soon as she got in her car, could it be done before morning? Surely he wouldn’t try to call her before then? Marcy sidled away from him, well aware that he watched every step she took. “Sure, sounds good.” She almost froze when she remembered he knew where she lived—everyone in Wellingford knew where she lived.

Maybe it was time to take a long vacation down to visit her sister in New Jersey. Claire would love the boardwalk and there was no chance she’d run into him there.

This was in danger of becoming a serious mistake. She gave a little wave as she backed to the corner of the building. “I’ll see you later.” And by later, she meant ten years from now, when the fact she’d just had sex with Aaron Robinson was a fond, distant memory.

Her body ached from what they’d done and she mentally corrected herself—better make it twenty years.

Chapter Three

Aaron stood in the alley a long time, long after Marceline had disappeared in the direction of the parking lot, long after he listened to her car rattle to a start and peel away. He toed her forgotten panties, all too aware he couldn’t leave them here to be thrown out with the trash or picked up by some sicko.

The fact he was picking them up wasn’t lost on him.

He’d only planned on kissing her—on putting himself on her map and opening up the awareness that he’d kept under wraps for years. He sure as fuck hadn’t planned on pinning her against a brick wall and losing himself in how good she felt and how fucking amazing it was hearing her say his name in that tone of voice.

And then she’d ran out of here like she couldn’t stand the sight of him.

It was just jitters. He hadn’t been prepared for the chemistry to explode between them, so there was no way she had been either. It made sense she would be skittish after that kind of blow to her expectations. Hell, he was feeling a little off-center. But Aaron knew what he wanted.

Marceline.

It couldn’t be more obvious that she was finally over that jackass of an ex, and he wasn’t about to miss this chance to explore the attraction between them. He wasn’t about to let her get away without a fight.

He shook the rain from his hair and headed back into Chilly’s. After having Marceline making the sweetest noises in his ears, he needed a drink to settle down before he went home. The noise of the place rolled over him, laughter and half a dozen conversations combined into a dull roar that did nothing to chase away the grin he could feel pulling at the edges of his lips.

Gena nodded at him as he took the bar stool Marceline had been on earlier. “What can I get you, honey?”

“Just a Bud.”

“Sure thing. Coming right up.”

He looked over as Drew Flannery slid into the empty seat next to him. “You look like shit.”

Aaron glanced down at himself and sighed. Now that the desire had dimmed, he was all too aware of his wet clothes. “I’ve been better, that’s for damn sure.” It was a lie. Even with Marceline’s reaction, this night was still one for the record books.

“Any trouble on your last shift?”

“Nope. Little Anna’s cat went on another grand adventure, but we know most of the little devil’s hiding spots at this point.” And the fact that that was the most trouble he’d seen in eight hours was the reason he’d come back to Wellingford in the first place. Aaron had seen enough shit to know when to embrace the peaceful times and appreciate that he didn’t have to deal with anyone shooting at him or his friends. The worst he had to handle these days was the town drunk acting a fool and having to be escorted home or thrown in one of their two cells to sleep it off.

Really, there was only one thing missing from his life, and he’d gotten a glimpse of what it was ten minutes ago in the alley.

“That feline is a pain in the ass.”

He frowned. Normally Drew wasn’t one to snarl over something so minor. “You okay?”

“Fine.”

It didn’t sound like it, but he wasn’t about to prod further. Drew had his own way of dealing with things. If he wanted to talk, he would. The man turned around to lean against the bar and watch the rest of the room, but it would take a blind mind to miss who he focused on. Avery Yeung, sitting at the table with Drew’s brother and laughing her ass off at something. She was a pretty little thing if you ignored the fact she had no problem taking care of herself and a mean right hook for those who crossed her. She and Drew were tight, but both claimed up and down and sideways that they were only friends.

Aaron watched Drew watch her. Yeah, that level of heat wasn’t one reserved for ‘only friends’ but he wasn’t fool enough to point it out. Instead, he drank his beer and considered his next step with Marceline.

A slow smile spread over his face. He had just the thing. “You okay with me taking the career day down at the grade school?”

Drew snorted. “I was going to offer you a case of beer and a pizza to do it so I didn’t have to. I like kids just fine, but in smaller doses. Having a classroom full of them focused on me… No, thanks.”

“Wuss.” He laughed. “They’re harmless as long as you treat them with the respect they deserve.”

“They’re tiny people. How much respect do they deserve?”

Aaron shook his head. “Look at them like a dangerous animal. They scent fear and, if left to their own devices, they will rip a room apart faster than you can say ‘Cupcake.’”

Drew shuddered. “That sounds like my personal hell.”

“Better get used to it. You’re about to have a little niece or nephew in another four months or so.”

“But I can always hand it back. That’s the beauty of a kid that’s not mine.”

“Denial. You’re in it.” He finished his beer and set it on top of a five dollar bill from his wallet. “But yeah, I’ll take that trade.”

Drew narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

“I have my reasons.” Reasons that had everything to do with a certain second grade teacher. “See you in the morning.” He nodded to Gena and started for the door, and he could practically feel Drew’s gaze on the back of his neck. Oh well, let him wonder. It was good for him to be off his game every once in a while. Aaron smiled at Avery. Maybe their sheriff was destined to be more than a little off his game. If there was anyone who could give him a run for his money, it was Avery Yeung. He stopped when he recognized the pale pink purse sitting next to her. Keeping his grin in place—he had said he’d call her, after all—he swooped in and snagged it. “Marceline had to run.”

Bri frowned. “Is everything okay?”

“Right as rain. I’m just going to drop this at her place on my way home.” He straightened. “Congrats, you two.”

“Thanks.” Ryan slid his arm around Bri. “Tell Marcy to call if she needs anything.”

“Will do.” Satisfied all was right in the world—or heading in the right direction—he got into his truck.

§

Marcy got nearly all the way home before she realized she couldn’t walk through her front door looking like this. She parked on the side of the road, doing her damnedest to regulate her breathing, and flipped down the mirror. Flushed cheeks? Check. Lips swollen from kissing? Double check. She stared harder. “Please tell me that’s not a hickey… Please, please, please.” But there was no mistaking the faint bruising beginning to show at the spot where her neck met her shoulders. “This isn’t happening.”

Except it was happening.

She slumped in her seat. Her options were limited and getting smaller the longer she considered. She couldn’t go back to Chilly’s—and she was already going to have to explain why the hell she went outside with Aaron and never came back inside. He wasn’t the type to kiss and tell, so at least that was one less thing she had to worry about. But she couldn’t show up at her house—where her daughter was probably sleeping by now—looking like she’d been doing what she’d just been doing.

First thing was first, though. She reached for her purse…only to realize she must have left it in the bar. If she hadn’t had her keys in her jacket pocket, she never would have walked off without it. “I’m batting a thousand today.”

Headlights filled her back windshield and she let loose a string of curses. What else could go wrong tonight?

Apparently wondering that was tempting fate, because footsteps crunched over the gravel as the driver of the truck got out. She looked into her backseat, but there wasn’t a conveniently placed scarf to wrap around her neck. Hopefully the shadows would conceal the damning evidence.

It didn’t occur to her that she shouldn’t roll down her window until he leaned over and she realized exactly who’d stopped to see if she needed help. Aaron. The person she’d already decided she needed a whole lot of distance from. “I’m fine. Just needed a second.”

“Honey, I needed a whole lot more than a second to recover from what we were doing.”

It would just figure that he wouldn’t be a gentleman who’d never bring it up again. On the other hand, a gentleman wouldn’t yank off her panties and take her against a brick wall…

She flushed and looked away. “Why are you here?”

“I’m an officer of the law. It looked like you ran into some trouble.” He lifted his hand, bringing her purse into view. “And you left this behind.”

“Thank you.” Now please leave me to suffer my humiliation in peace.

But he swung the purse out of reach when she tried to grab it. “You know, I’m a reasonably intelligent man.”

“Mmhmm.” More than reasonably intelligent. He’d graduated at the top of his class in high school and, from what Erin had said, he’d made a name for himself in the Army. Not that Marcy had followed every little tidbit of information and gossip she could find about Aaron. She most definitely had not. She made another grab, and failed just like the first.

For his part, he didn’t seem all that concerned that he was holding her property hostage in his massive paw. “And, as a reasonably intelligent man, I have to wonder something.”

He was teasing her? “Give it back.”

“In a second. Where was I?” He smiled, though it wasn’t the happiest of expressions. “Oh yeah, I was getting to the part where generally a woman who’s going to take your call doesn’t bolt thirty seconds after coming on your—”

“Stop.” She actually lunged upward to put a hand over his mouth, and ended up smacking her head on the roof of her car.

“Shit, are you okay?” He opened the door and had her outside before she had a chance to tell him she was totally fine—except for dealing with a man who seemed intent on bullying her. But then his arm was around her while he gingerly touched her head. She inhaled, nearly groaning as the scent of Old Spice surrounded her the same way his body currently was. She’d always had a weakness for that brand, but she couldn’t begin to say if it had started before or after she’d met Aaron.

She moved out of his grasp, mostly because the only thing she wanted to do was let him take care of her. It had been a very long time since a man had tried, and the temptation to lean on him was almost more than she could stand. But she knew better. She couldn’t afford to want to lean on him. More, she didn’t need to. She had things locked down.

So she took another step back, all too aware that he let her go. “I’m fine.”

“So it seems.”

“I was going to take your call.” When he just stared at her, she sighed. “I was thinking about it.” His expression didn’t change, and she crumbled. “Okay, fine, I was thinking about moving to New Jersey.”

“New Jersey.”

When he said it like that, it sounded really silly. Which was probably because it was foolish. She couldn’t leave her life here behind just to avoid an awkward encounter. No matter how much she wanted to. Still, he didn’t have to look like that—like he was trying to hold back a big belly laugh. “It was a sound plan at the time.”

“I’m sure it was.” A muscle jumped in his jaw and his lips twitched. “Was the sex that bad, then?”

She bit her lip and looked at the sky. The rain had let up, but the clouds still blocked out the stars, so there wasn’t much to hold her attention—or her excuse to find anything to examine but him. “It was fine.”

Now he was definitely smiling. “Damning me with faint praise.”

It was hard to cling to her awkwardness when his dimples were coming out to play. Marcy huffed out a breath. “It was more than fine and you know it. You were there, if I recall correctly.”

“Yep.” He closed the distance between them with one giant step and cupped her face. She went still, half expecting him to lift her and give an answer to the chemistry that exploded between them on contact. As it was, she had a hard time keeping her hips back against the car and not rubbing all over him like a cat with catnip.

But Aaron pressed a kiss to her forehead and moved back. “Answer the phone when I call, Marceline.” He took her hand and closed it around her purse.

Then he was gone, striding back to his truck and climbing in, leaving her to stumble into her car and try to get her bearings. She sat there for a good two minutes before she realized he wasn’t going to drive off until she did first. Her hands shook as she pulled back onto the street, and she had to face the truth.

Aaron wasn’t going to let this fade into memory and move on with his life. No, he had every intention of pushing his way into her life, though God alone knew what role he expected to play.

She couldn’t let that happen. She refused to.

Chapter Four

Five missed calls. That’s how many times Aaron had tried to get ahold of Marceline, and that’s how many times she hadn’t picked up. He’d been amused for the first and second, annoyed by the third, and flat out pissed by number four. He’d known she was cagey, but all she had to do was tell him to leave her the hell alone and he’d walk. Whatever she thought of him, she had to know he wasn’t going to stalk her until she came around.

Had he imagined the way she’d leaned into him when he’d found her parked on the side of the road? At this point, he wasn’t sure. The sex had been beyond outstanding, but that didn’t mean she wanted more.

This shit was turning him into a thirteen-year-old girl with how twisted up his emotions were. With a curse, he climbed out of his cruiser and headed for the school. He hadn’t expected her to completely blow him off when he’d volunteered to speak at career day, and Drew wasn’t interested in helping him out.

While he was used to towering over people, walking into a grade school only made that feeling worse. Everything was tiny—tiny chairs, tiny water fountains, tiny desks. Even though he liked kids, he still felt like he couldn’t touch anything without breaking it. Knowing that made it hard to smile at the two ladies behind the front desk, but it wasn’t their fault he was in such a foul mood. “Mrs. Coulson. Mrs. Bane. How are you doing this morning?” The elderly women had worked this desk for as long as anyone could remember, and Aaron was pretty sure they hadn’t aged a day since he ran amok in these same halls.

“Aaron Robinson, could that possibly be you?” Mrs. Bane adjusted her glasses, grinning. “Haven’t you grown up nice and tall, just like your daddy.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

They twittered. “Always were a polite one—when you weren’t getting into trouble. What can we do for you?”

“I’m here to talk to Mar—Miss Bellini’s class for career day.” Even saying her name was enough to remind him how good her skin had felt beneath his hands. He cleared his throat. Now was the worst possible time he could sift through those memories. He had a group of young minds to talk to.

Aaron almost snorted. He’d done just fine with his life, but most of those kids were destined for bigger things than a small town cop. He used to think he was one of them, but then he’d gotten his taste of the world and realized the sleepy town he’d been so keen to leave in the dust had a lot more going for it than he’d ever imagined.

Sometimes you had to leave things behind in order to understand just how precious they were.

“Miss Bellini is down the north hallway, second door on the left.” Mrs. Coulson gave him a sweet smile. “She’s got quite the lineup of attractive men today. The younger Flannery boy got here just ten minutes ago.”

“Why Mrs. Coulson, you’re going to make me blush.” He tipped his hat to them and headed for the north hallway, leaving them giggling like schoolgirls behind him. At least he’d managed to make someone’s day brighter.

He had a feeling he was about to rain on Marceline’s parade.

Strangely enough, he was completely okay with that right about now.

The hush over the hallways was barely broken by the sound of young voices chattering, and a deeper male voice responding. He stopped just outside the door and watched Ryan Flannery in his blues, fielding questions from the children bouncing in their chairs. He handled them with ease, and there was nothing in his posture to indicate that he was ready to flee for his life—something Aaron had seen grown men do when faced with this kind of rabid fascination. But he should have known Ryan wouldn’t be one of them. As a pararescuer, he would have dealt with far more terrifying situations. Though, as Marceline coached the class to thank him and he smiled and walked out, he did look a little wide around the eyes. “Good luck.”

He wasn’t going to be the one to need it. Aaron clapped him on the shoulder and ducked through the door, earning gasps from a few of the kids in the front row. They stared at him with big eyes, and one little towheaded boy piped up, “Are you a giant?”

“Only sometimes.”

A hissed breath brought his attention to Marceline. She sat on the edge of her desk, holding a folder against her chest as if it was a shield. She looked nice and wholesome today, wearing a white sundress with a yellow cardigan over it, the whole thing topped off with a striped lightweight scarf around her neck. He tipped his hat to her, well aware his grin was a little off. “Miss Bellini.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I would think that’s obvious.” He motioned at the kids raptly watching the interplay. “You wanted a local policeman for career day.”

“Because I thought Drew was going to be the one to show up.”

That stung, but she wouldn’t have dodged his calls if she actually wanted to see him. “Well, you’ve got me.” In more ways than one. He couldn’t have shaken Marceline out of his system if he wanted to. And he wasn’t too keen on trying.

She thinned her lips, but managed to turn it into a smile as she faced the kids. “Class, this is Mr. Robinson and he’s a policeman. He’s here to tell you about his job.”

Aaron took off his hat and settled in. Poking at Marceline was kind of like bathing his sister’s cat in high school. Powderpuff was as nice a feline as he’d ever encountered—until she got a drop of water on her. Then she turned into a hissing puffball. Right now, if Marceline had hair, it’d be standing straight out from her body just like Powderpuff’s did.

Well, she better get used to it, because he wasn’t about to roll over and play dead.

§

Marcy gripped the folder so tightly, it bent in her hands. She’d been expecting the Flannery brothers this afternoon. She’d been prepared to smooth the way for Drew because a classroom most definitely wasn’t his comfort zone. What she hadn’t been prepared for was seeing Aaron taking up the entire doorway.

With him in the same room, she couldn’t ignore the fact that she’d almost—almost—picked up the phone each time he’d called. She knew she was in trouble when she caught herself imagining how their conversation would go. Would he ask her out for a real date? Would he offer to pick her up, bring her flowers, and take her to one of the nice restaurants in Williamsport?

Easy enough to shut those thoughts down when she was in her living room with the comforting sounds of her daughter’s laughter and Dora the Explorer in the background.

With him standing here, almost close enough to touch, it wasn’t so easy.

She cloaked herself in righteous anger because the only other response was to melt into a puddle at his feet. Holding herself tall, she smiled at her class, all too aware that they were intensely focused on the undercurrents. Children were like that—they picked up significantly more than most adults realized. It was a big part of the reason she never brought anyone home once Jeff left.

That and the fact there had never been anyone to bring home.

Aaron stood with an easy grace, his aw-shucks grin seeming genuine as he faced the kids. “Like Miss Bellini says, I’m a policeman. I work down at the sheriff’s station and I do my best to keep Wellingford a safe place. We don’t get a lot of bad guys around here, but the ones who show up from time to time are taken care of immediately.” He met her gaze. “I have no problem being relentless when the situation calls for it.”

He wasn’t talking about bad guys. He was talking about her. Even knowing she should keep silent and pretend she had no idea what he meant, Marcy couldn’t quite manage it. “I would think relentless would be excessive for most situations in Wellingford.”

“That’s right.” He gave the class a very serious look. “There’s a time and place for that kind of response. It’s not every day a policeman has to go to such lengths.”

“Especially if he’s misread the situation.” Which he most definitely had. As wonderful as it had been in his arms, she finally had a good balance with Claire and work and life. Letting some bullheaded cop shove his way into her life wasn’t on the agenda.

“He hasn’t. He’s got excellent instincts when it comes to those worth pursuing.”

Her entire body flushed hot at the look in his eyes. He couldn’t have said it clearer if he’d tried—he had no intention of walking away. Knowing that made her shiver. How was she supposed to discourage him? Hell, did she even want to? “He’s got to be wrong sometime.”

“Nope.” He raked her with his gaze, leaving her feeling as if he’d run his hands over her entire body. Aaron nodded to little Christopher in the first row, who waved his hand wildly.

“Have you ever shot somebody?”

His smile didn’t falter, but she saw some of the light dim. “Not as a policeman. Hopefully I’ll never have to.”

No, he wouldn’t have had to working in Wellingford, but he’d been in the Army. He came back much the same laid-back man he’d always been, so no one questioned too closely what his years away had been like. Now she had to wonder.

Chris wasn’t done. “But what about bad guys?”

“We have a nifty justice system in place, so I only arrest bad guys.”

Chris seemed to consider that. “I guess that’s okay.”

“So glad you approve.”

Jenny in the back row raised her hand. “What happens if a bad guy runs away?”

Aaron met Marcy’s eyes. “Then I chase him. I’m pretty good at running things to ground.”

Good lord. Enough was enough. She pushed to her feet, doing her best to ignore the way her skin tingled. Before she could hustle him into the hallway and demand he leave, the final bell rang. She took a breath and tried to keep the tension out of her voice. “Have a great day, children. Don’t forget your math homework tonight.”

As usual, they cleared out inside of fifteen seconds. Normally, that was a good thing, but normally she wasn’t being left alone with a giant of a man who made her want things she had no business wanting. She barely waited for the door to close when she spun on him. “What are you doing here?”

“Career day. You’re the one who set this up.”

“That was before.”

“Before what? Before I kissed you?” He moved closer, and she stepped back, not trusting herself to be within touching distance. Aaron didn’t stop, though. And, damn it, his legs were longer. “Before I slid my hands up your dress? Before you wrapped your legs around my waist?”

Each sentence brought a wave of tactile memory, and it was everything she could do to hold back a whimper. “Stop it.”

“Do you really want me to?”

No. She wanted him to keep going until he overwhelmed the last of her good decision-making processes and she had her hands on him again. But she couldn’t admit that aloud any more than she could follow through on the desire beating like a drum through her. “You should leave.”

“That wasn’t an answer.”

This wasn’t the laid-back man she knew. There was a fire in his eyes that kindled an answering warmth inside her. It flared up with such heat, she almost went to her knees. “Aaron, please,” she whispered when he touched her, his hands on her hips.

“Please what?”

Take me. She didn’t say the words aloud, but he must have seen something on her face because he followed as she backed out the door. “This way.”

Chapter Five

Aaron followed Marceline down the hallway. She didn’t look left or right or over her shoulder at him, just marched over to a door and held it open. He surveyed the broom closet, but having her so close was enough to dampen any need for commentary. There was only one reason she’d lead him here and he was on the exact same page. So he snagged her around the waist and grabbed the doorknob with his free hand. One step and they were in the confining darkness, pressed chest to chest.

Marceline cleared her throat. “This doesn’t mean—”

“Stop talking.” He kissed her, cutting off the words he didn’t want to hear. She could speak until she was blue in the face about how this didn’t mean a damn thing, but he knew better. This wasn’t a woman who gave herself over to kisses and touches without serious reservations. Since Jeff left, he couldn’t recall a single man she’d dated.

And yet here she was, going onto her tiptoes and kissing him for all she was worth.

He pulled her tighter and reached down to slip a hand under her dress. She melted against him, little sounds coming out of her mouth as she unbuttoned his pants. “I need you.”

“Not half as much as I need you.” And hell if that wasn’t the God’s own truth. But there was no time for deep talks or revelations when she was soft and demanding in his arms. He fisted the fabric of the front of her panties and yanked them down her legs as he went to his knees. He wanted to taste her here, so goddamn much his body shook like a junky jonesing for his next fix. It was so dark that she was little more than a shadow when he lifted her dress. “A bed, a bed, my kingdom for a bed.”

“Richard III?” She gave a breathless laugh. “That’s what you’re thinking about right now?”

Of course she’d recognize the quote. It still made him smile against the skin of her thigh. “Marceline.” He loved the way she shivered every time he said her name. “The only thing I’m thinking about right now is how good you’re going to taste.” Aaron leaned forward and dragged his tongue over her center.

But she didn’t give him a chance to truly worship her with his mouth, because she was already grabbing his shoulders. “Up. We don’t have time.”

Though he was tempted to keep going, the thought of someone walking in on them was enough to get him back on his feet. A few seconds later he had a condom out of his wallet and rolled on. He lifted her, her legs going around his waist much the same way they had last time. “We’ve got to stop meeting like this.”

“I’m not complaining.” She reached between them and adjusted his angle. She was wet and ready and practically shaking with need. “Now, Aaron. Please.”

He claimed her mouth as he thrust forward and claimed her body. She kissed him, her body meeting his stroke for stroke, urged on by his hands under her ass. Even as she slid up and down his cock, he could barely wrap his mind around the fact he was half naked, standing in the middle of a broom closet with Marceline. Marceline.

Her body shuddered, tightening around him as her orgasm threatened. He looped one arm under her ass and pulled her closer with the other, until their cheeks brushed as he ground her against him. She pressed her face to his neck, moaning, her body milking him, his own orgasm hitting him hard enough to make his knees weak. He stumbled to the wall and braced her against it. With her face pressed against his skin and his forehead resting on the cool wall, it was a strangely intimate moment. They were as close as two people could be, and she wasn’t in the process of trying to brush him off.

“You’re wrong, Marceline.” There went that shiver again. He kissed her temple. “This does mean something.”

He felt her sigh more than heard it. He held his breath, waiting for her to say something. Any second now, she’d shove him back, make her excuses, and tell him to leave her the hell alone. And, damn it, he didn’t want to. He wanted to get in her face and poke at her until she agreed that this meant something—something more than sex.

But he wouldn’t.

It didn’t matter how much attraction there was between them, or how he couldn’t keep himself from touching her, even now, when he knew how this was going to play out. If Marceline wasn’t willing to take that first step, he couldn’t force her to. He’d be a fool to try.

So if she told him to fuck off, he’d leave her alone. No matter how much it hurt to walk away.

With another sigh, she pushed him a little, signaling her desire to get off the wall. Aaron gritted his teeth and stepped back, keeping a hand on her hips in case she stumbled. Here it comes.

“Aaron, I…” It was hard to tell in the darkness, but she seemed to be looking at their feet. “Damn it, you’re right.”

He frowned, sure he’d heard wrong. “What?”

“Don’t make me say it again, please.” She cleared her throat. “This means something. I don’t know what, but it does.”

He let go of her long enough to get his pants back on and done up. While pulling her into his arms and kissing her sounded like a great idea, it’d just get them back to where they’d been two minutes ago. He had his sights set on bigger things. “Let me take you out.” It wasn’t his end-all-be-all, but it was the first step.

“What?”

It was hard to do this without seeing her face clearly, but he had a feeling if he didn’t push his advantage, she’d find a million and one reasons why this was a mistake before she saw him again. “This weekend—or whenever works for you—I’m going to take you out.”

Another sigh. “You aren’t going to let this go, are you?”

Not a chance in hell now that she’d left the door cracked open. “Nope.”

“I’ll see about a sitter and let you know.”

She went to move past him but he caught her before she got to the door. Aaron smoothed her hair back, enjoying the small touch nearly as much as he enjoyed what they’d just been doing. “It’s a date, Marceline.”

§

A date. What was she thinking? Marcy didn’t have the time or opportunity to date. She’d never wanted to.

But, as she drove to pick Claire up from her daycare, she couldn’t deny a flutter of excitement at the thought of going out with Aaron. She wished she could blame it on the last zings of desire from being wrapped around him in the broom closet—seriously, what had she been thinking to let things get so out of control?—but it would be a lie.

What she liked was the idea of being picked up, taken to a nice restaurant, and the sole focus of that penetrating gray gaze for a few hours. Would he hold her hand? Open the doors for her? Kiss her goodnight on her front porch?

She parked and walked into the daycare, smiling when she picked out the sound of little voices. As curiously excited as she was about an evening out with Aaron, this was the most important thing in her life. She signed the paperwork and went into the playroom, finding Claire exactly where she’d expect—in the middle of everything. Her daughter looked up from the blocks she was building and grinned. “Mommy!”

She held out her arms as Claire ran, swooping her up and around and planting kisses on both her cheeks. “I missed you, baby.” Even though she loved her teaching job, a part of her withered every morning when she dropped her daughter off. She’d missed so many things because she had to work, even though that same work was arguably what had kept her sane while raising a child alone.

The sheer normalcy of listening to Claire chatter happily as she got them packed into the car and headed for home, dampened the wave of giddy joy she’d been riding ever since Aaron kissed her goodbye. She let it go with only a brief regret. As wonderful as it was being pursued by that mountain of a man, this was her life. She’d fought long and hard to create a home life for Claire that was totally and completely stable. And her daughter flourished as a result.

She couldn’t do anything to risk jeopardizing that.

Aaron might want her now, but a few smoking sex sessions did not a lasting relationship make. She shook her head and turned on Kidz Bop. There was no point in worrying about it now. She would go out with him this weekend and she would have a good time. One date didn’t mean she planned on marrying him, for God’s sake. She just needed to relax and let things be.

Ha! Easier said than done.

There was something about Aaron Robinson that made her think about things she’d put aside a long time ago. He was the kind of man who would step up and take care of anyone he considered his. She’d seen that time and time again with Erin in high school. He’d never once hesitated to run off a boy if he didn’t think the kid was good enough for his baby sister. It didn’t really matter what Erin thought of the guy. Judging from how he took care of the town as a cop working under Drew, that personality quirk hadn’t changed any.

It would be nice to be able to lean on someone, to not have to shoulder every burden alone.

She shook her head. It would be nice, but she couldn’t afford to fantasize about it. It was just setting herself up for disappointment. More than that, it was setting Claire up for disappointment, and that she just wouldn’t do.

“Enough.” This mental circling wasn’t doing anything but raising her blood pressure.

“Mommy?”

“Nothing, baby. How about we make PB&Js and watch a movie?” This was what she needed—to be grounded and reminded of how great her life was. She had Claire and a wonderful job and no huge stressors. She didn’t need anyone else.

“I wanna watch Princess Tiana.”

She smiled. The Princess and the Frog had become one of her favorite movies, and she loved that Claire identified with the princess who prioritized hard work and didn’t wait around for a prince to save her.

The rest of the drive, Claire peppered her with questions about her newest obsession—ponies. By the time she pulled into her driveway, the last feelings of desire from her encounter with Aaron were shoved aside in the face of the norm. Marcy laughed as she unlocked the front door. “No, you can’t have a pony.” She’d thought all those movies were exaggerating with every little girl in existence wanting a pony.

Apparently she was wrong.

“I will name her Buttercup and give her pretty hair.”

The world, according to a three-year-old. “There’s more to a pony than having pretty hair and a cute name.”

“Please, Mommy!” There went the lip. Claire’s big brown eyes watered, and it took everything in Marcy not to give in right then and there. She hated denying her daughter anything, but it was part of life. Even if she could afford the time and money a pony brought, giving Claire everything her little heart desired was a good way to end up with a spoiled little brat.

That didn’t make it any easier saying no, though.

She set her purse on the counter. “You’re too young for a pony.” There. That was a better way to phrase it.

She caught the crafty expression on Claire’s face and realized her mistake a half second too late. “Can I have Buttercup when I’m four?”

More like when you’re eighteen and have a job to support it. Marcy pressed her lips together. “Older.”

“Five?”

Crap. “Sixteen.”

Claire frowned. “Mommy! That’s so old.”

It sure seemed like it now, but the last three years had flown by, and time didn’t seem to be slowing down any. Marcy was terrified that she’d blink and, the next thing she knew, she’d be waving goodbye as Claire drove off to college. “It’ll come faster than you think.”

“Okay.” She seemed to think that over. “Can I watch Princess Ariel tonight, too?”

The kid drove a hard bargain. “Deal.” And hopefully by the time she was actually sixteen she’d have moved on to wanting other things. Marcy moved into the kitchen and opened the fridge. “Let’s get these sandwiches started so we can watch your movie before bath time.”

“Yay!”

As she spread the peanut butter over the bread, her mind wandered back to Aaron. When she was with him, it seemed a million miles away from the person she was right now. Marcy wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not, but it wasn’t what terrified her.

No, what terrified her was that she could picture Aaron here with her and Claire all too easily. And that fact told her exactly how much trouble she was in.

Chapter Six

Aaron fiddled with the buttons of his shirt and considered changing it. Again. He wasn’t used to feeling this out of sorts. Marceline had taken his call and had even sounded somewhat happy about their date, but that didn’t change the fact that he knew everything hinged on tonight.

If it went south, he suspected he wasn’t getting another chance.

And hell if that wasn’t a daunting thought. He knew he and Marceline fit, but convincing her of it was a different thing altogether. Though, truth be told, he hadn’t expected her to be quite so stubborn in her refusal. Aaron rubbed a hand over his mouth and snatched his keys. He’d fooled himself into thinking that seducing her would be easy, ignoring the fact that a woman who’d gone through what she had wasn’t faint hearted. She was strong and ruthless when it came to cutting things out of her life that negatively impacted her daughter.

Last year, he’d heard a rumor that Jeff came sniffing back around. No telling what he was looking for, but Wellingford gossip had it that he’d zeroed in on Marceline and set about trying to convince her to let him back into her life.

Miss Nora Lee saw everything that happened in this town, and she’d told Aaron that Jeff was looking for Claire. Something about his dating a new woman and wanting to impress her with how great of a father he was. Aaron snorted. Great father, his ass. Anyone with half a brain knew that a man who only came around once every two years wasn’t worth shit.

And Marceline had sent him trucking. No one knew what she’d said, but he’d high-tailed it out of town after only two days and no one had seen him since.

He smiled and climbed up into his truck. He’d been an idiot to forget that she wasn’t helpless and hadn’t needed a man in years. If left alone, he suspected she’d go on the same way she’d been, handling her business and raising her daughter. But who would be there to take care of her? To hold her when life kicked her in the teeth? It happened to even the best people, and her history proved she was no exception.

He wanted to be that person to shield her when the bad times came calling.

The trick was to convince her to give him a chance. Aaron pulled out of his driveway and headed for her house. This date was the first step. After that, it didn’t matter how long it took or what hoops he had to jump through. He was in this for the long haul. It was only a matter of time before Marceline realized that.

He couldn’t afford to fuck up now.

Which was why he was calling in the big guns. He dialed before he could regret it, listening to the phone ring. There was only one expert on all things Marceline, and it just so happened that he was related to her.

Erin picked up with a breathy, “Hey.”

He frowned. “What are you doing?”

“Relax, big brother. I just ran up two flights of stairs—I’m not answering the phone while in a compromising position. Also, gross.”

“Uh huh.” As much as she liked to pretend she’d never do something like that just to get his ire going, he knew better.

“But you didn’t call to talk about me. What’s up?”

“What kind of food does Marceline like?”

“Marcy? Why would you…” She gasped. “Oh my God, have you finally grown a pair and asked her out? And she said yes? I’m going to give her an earful for not telling me.”

“Slow down.”

“No, you slow down. Actually, please don’t. If you two moved any slower towards each other, you’d be going backwards.”

He sighed. “You don’t seem too torn up about this.”

“Probably because you two have been eyeing each other for so long it’s stopped traumatizing me.”

“Which is ironic, because this conversation is traumatizing me.” He started his truck, hoping the sound of the engine would be enough of a hint to get this conversation moving. He needed his answer.

“Poor baby.”

“What kind of food, Erin?”

“You’re awfully cranky for someone who’s getting exactly what he wants.” When he stayed silent, she groaned. “Okay, fine. She’s super into everything except fish. So avoid sushi and seafood and you can’t go wrong.”

“Thanks.”

“So, what—”

If he didn’t get her off the phone, she’d chat until he picked up Marceline and beyond, and that wasn’t an option. “I’ll call you later.” He hung up while she was still protesting. But he’d gotten the info he was looking for. It was quick work to look up restaurants that fit the bill and make a reservation. Now he could focus on more important things.

He pulled up outside her house five minutes before five—not too early, but better than being late. Aaron had barely shut off the engine when she slid out the door, looking like a vision in a red sundress and her cowgirl boots, with her thick dark hair pulled back off her face. The sight of her smiling struck him immobile. And she was going out with him.

By the time he had himself under control, she already had the passenger door open. “Hi.”

“Hey there, beautiful.” He waited for her to close the door before her pulled her across the bench seat and tucked her under his arm. Her perfume—something light and fruity—teased him, but even that wasn’t enough to shake the realization that she’d been watching for him. While he wished he could chalk it up to her being excited for the date, he suspected it was because she didn’t want him to have the chance to come to the front door.

Aaron took a deep breath and beat down the irritation that thought brought. So she didn’t want him to meet her daughter yet. She was being cautious. He could respect that, even if he resented her creating yet another barrier between him and the rest of her life. He wanted more than stolen moments in a closet or up against a wall.

He wanted everything.

All in good time. He could be patient when the situation called for it, though he had a hard time calling on that particular trait when it came to Marceline. He’d wanted her in one way or another for so long—even when he’d told himself she was off limits because she was Erin’s friend—it was hard to put on the brakes when it was so obvious that she wanted him, too.

But she was here and smiling now, so he needed to let the rest go for the time being. “How was your day?”

“The usual.” She toyed with the hem of her dress, smoothing it over her knees. “The kids were riled up and everything took a little longer than it should have, but I can hardly blame them.”

“Why’s that?” He’d been pretty riled up lately, but he didn’t think it was for the same reason.

“Spring.” She waved her hand at the windshield. In the fading light, the trees lining the road were just beginning to bloom and everything had begun to attain a green edge. “There’s a warmth to the air that means winter’s finally lost it’s hold, and it’s enough to make the younger kids want to go a little crazy. They’ve been cooped up for the last few months and they can sense it coming to an end.” She looked up at him, her dark eyes sparkling. “Summer’s so close you can almost taste it. It’s a magical time of year.”

He knew what she meant. With the warm weather they’d had for the last week, it was all too easy to turn his thoughts to what the summer would look like. There were plenty of little creeks around town where the kids liked to swim, and he’d caught himself thinking about what color bikini Marceline would wear if he took her and her daughter out to one of them. “A time of possibilities.”

“Exactly.” She seemed to realize she’d been leaning against him and straightened. “So, where are you taking me tonight?”

It was on the tip of his tongue to give some sappy reply, but Aaron managed to hold it back at the last moment. “A new little restaurant in Williamsport that I thought you’d like.” Tonight was about easing Marceline into the idea of being with him, and that meant not moving too fast. Considering what they’d been doing a few days ago, the idea of moving too fast was laughable, but she’d already proven more willing to give him her body than she was to entrust him with her heart.

He had to give her a reason to change her mind.

§

Marcy couldn’t decide if she wanted to move away or cuddle up against Aaron. It was easy to say she didn’t need someone to lean on and that she could do everything herself, but the feeling of his arm over her shoulders and his big body relaxed in the driver’s seat was nearly enough to make her throw that plan right out the window. He was as solid as a rock, and not just physically.

To distract herself from the conflicting needs twisting up inside her, she said, “How was your day?”

He laughed, the deep sound rolling through her. “Your second graders aren’t the only ones with spring fever. A bunch of high school kids thought it would be a good idea to skip the last half of school and head out to Mill Creek.”

“They still do that?” She gave up and relaxed against him. She could stand strong and alone later. “I remember giving old Sheriff Johnson the slip a time or two doing the same thing.” It seemed like it was both just yesterday and a million years away that she’d been so young and carefree. All she’d been worried about was having fun and graduating so she could get out of Wellingford and see the world.

So much could change in such a short time. She didn’t have any regrets, but sometimes she missed that weightless feeling before she knew how heavy the weight of the world could be.

“I know.”

“Wasn’t that where you had the party when you were home on leave?”

He smiled. “The one where you hit on me?”

She’d forgotten. Okay, that wasn’t strictly the truth. Marcy had blocked it out, mostly out of mortification. There’d been a huge party out at Mill Creek and, after his family went home, it had gotten a little wild. It was her first time drinking, and she’d gone and made a fool of herself by throwing herself at him in the trashiest way possible. Who the hell walked up behind a man and tried to stick her hands down his pants without first finding out if he was even interested? Apparently Marcy. “Why didn’t you take me up on it?”

She didn’t realize she’d spoken until he answered, his fingers idly twining through her hair. “Because you were seventeen. Even if you hadn’t been drunk off your ass, I was twenty-two, and as sexy as you looked in that bright yellow swimsuit, you were still a kid.”

“A kid.” She glanced at him, but he was staring out at the road. “I can’t believe you remember that bikini.” Even though she’d picked it just for him. Even now, she could still remember feeling him looking her over behind those aviator sunglasses.

But he’d turned her down—as gently as possible, which only made the sting of humiliation worse. Then, when she’d been ready to drive off with a few of the boys in her grade, Aaron had stepped in, bundled up her, Erin, and the rest of the girls still there, and made sure they all got home safely.

“Marceline, I might have kept my hands to myself for the last ten years, but don’t think for a second I’ve been unaffected.”

His words hit somewhere in her chest. She straightened, not sure what it was that sent her heart beating double-time. So what if he’d wanted her for nearly as long as she’d been fantasizing about him? It didn’t change anything about their current situation.

Except it did.

“I bought a yellow bikini last summer.” Again, the words were out before she could take them back. She bit her lip, but Aaron just sat perfectly still, apparently content to wait her out. Damn it. How was she supposed to maintain her distance when he was so terrifyingly perfect? Or, if not actually perfect, then perfect for her? She’d been trying to catch Aaron Robinson’s eye ever since she was teenager.

Now that she finally had, she wasn’t sure what to do with him.

No, that was a lie. She knew exactly what she wanted to do with him. It was just a matter of her figuring out if she was willing to take that final leap of faith and put everything she’d worked so hard for in danger. Because it might not work. As wonderful as it was to know he’d been thinking about her for as long as she’d been thinking about him, it didn’t mean anything in reality. She knew all too well how crappy fantasy was at translating into the real world.

There was only one way to find out, if she was brave enough to try. “I thought about you when I bought it.” There. Now it was out in the open. The ball was in his court.

She’d thought Aaron was still before, but it was nothing compared to now. She watched him, trying to figure out if he was still breathing. When he finally looked at her, she lost her breath. Those gray eyes contained things she wasn’t sure she was ready to hear, but wanted to all the same. He cupped her chin, smoothing his thumb over her the same way he’d done behind Chilly’s after they’d had sex. The memory alone was enough to send a wave of heat through her body.

He released her, leaving her feeling curiously bereft without his hands on her skin. “Marceline, you are going to be the death of me.”

“You think so?”

“I do.” He chuckled, the raspy sound nothing like his normal laugh. “Here I am, ready to take you to a nice dinner and seduce the hell out of you, and you go and throw me a curveball like that. How am I supposed to focus on wining and dining you when all I can think about is you in a tiny little swimsuit, with all that beautiful skin exposed?”

“Multi-task?”

This time his laugh was closer to normal. “Easy for you to say.”

No, it really wasn’t. Because she was having a hard time keeping her mind out of the gutter as it was—knowing he was in the middle of the same struggle only made her want him more. “Maybe we could just take a pit-stop…”

“And we’re right back to you being the death of me.” He shook his head. “As much as I want to pull over on some little dirt road, stretch you out over this bench seat, and taste every inch of you, that’s not what we’re going to do.”

Disappointment soured her desire. “We’re not?”

“I know this may seem a strange concept, but I’m determined to get you into a bed. Being inside you is heaven, but what we’ve had up to this point is scraps.”

Sex with her was scraps? She started to scoot away, but he pulled her right back against him. “Don’t you go getting your back up. That’s not what I meant and you know it. I want you naked and in a bed. I want to be able to take my time, to taste you here.” He traced down the side of her neck to the top of her dress. “And here.” He dipped his finger beneath the fabric, unerringly circling her nipple until it puckered. She gasped, but he was already moving on, withdrawing and smoothing a hand down her ribs and hip, to the hem of her dress. She held her breath as he pulled the fabric up, barring her white panties. Aaron cupped her, his harsh curse rasping in her ear. “And, goddamn it, I want to taste you here as much as I want my next breath.”

Chapter Seven

Aaron had fully intended on just teasing her, but Marceline whispered his name and tilted her hips up, and he abandoned that plan. Just a little further. He’d take care of her and still maintain the plan of getting them both into a bed before the night was out. All it would take was a little restraint on his part.

The idea was laughable.

He dipped his hand beneath the band of her panties and dragged his finger over her clit. She moaned, her entire body shaking. “You’re awfully wet, Marceline.”

“You do that to me.”

Hearing those words on her lips, an acknowledgment that she was as crazy for him as he was for her, nearly undid him. He pushed a finger into her, working her slowly despite the way she rolled her hips to encourage him. Keeping one eye on the road was a challenge, but it was worth it to have her writhing against him, trying to push him deeper. She made a sound of protest when he withdrew, but it morphed into another moan as he circled her clit again.

As tempting as it was to tease her for hours, they were already on the outskirts of Williamsport, and Aaron was all too aware of the growing traffic around them. He picked up his pace, stroking her until she clutched his bicep with shaking hands. “Come for me, honey. I’ve got you.”

Marceline gave a cry that was music to his ears. “Aaron!”

He gentled his touches, though he couldn’t make himself stop completely. She clenched her thighs around his hand, and he settled for cupping her. “You’re beautiful.”

“It’s in the eye of the beholder.” She twisted around and he took the invitation to kiss her, though he couldn’t devote nearly as much time to it as he wanted. Marceline broke away with a laugh and wiggled out of his grasp. “You’re trouble.”

He hadn’t been accused of being trouble in years—not since he’d left the Army. “Only for you.”

She smiled and pulled her dress back down. “Is that supposed to be comforting?”

“Depends on how you want to take it.” Though he could tell her how he’d like her to take it. But, again, he fought back words he had no business saying. Not tonight. Not if he wanted her to stay.

She fixed her hair, smoothing it down and back and refastening the hair tie. “Then it’s a good thing I’m taking it as a compliment, huh?” She took a shaky breath. “Though I’ve half a mind to skip dinner and take you straight to bed.”

He hadn’t thought he could get any harder than when he’d been teasing an orgasm out of her.

He was wrong.

Aaron gripped the steering wheel because the alternative was to reach for her again. If he did that, he might as well throw his plan right out the window. But sex, no matter how great, wasn’t what tonight was about. He forced the tension from his voice as best he could. “Dinner first. Then we’ll talk.”

“Talk? Sounds serious.”

And she sounded spooked. “Marceline, I just want to share a meal with you. We’ll circle back around to you coming on my cock before the night is over. I promise.” He’d do his damnedest to get that image out of his mind ASAP, because the alternative was to spend the next few hours adjusting his pants and suffering from blue balls.

Hell, who was he kidding? He was fucked.

She cleared her throat. “You certainly have a way with words.”

“You like it.” He pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant and shut off the truck. “In fact, you love it.”

She opened her mouth, shut it, and then opened it again. “You have a mighty high opinion of yourself.”

No. He just knew people—Marceline in specific. She wouldn’t be here—wouldn’t have shared the yellow bikini tidbit—if she didn’t like it. Like him. “Let’s not play this game.”

“Game? What—”

“You like me. A lot. You have for years.” While she seemed to search for a response, he kept right on talking. “And I like you, too. More than a lot. I’ve been fighting to keep my hands off you since you were seventeen, and that feeling has only gotten stronger with time. You’re stronger than people give you credit for and you’ve walked through hell and back. So, yeah, I’m not going to play the coy dating game bullshit when it comes to you.”

§

Marcy couldn’t breathe. She was tempted to call Aaron a liar, but what could his motivation possibly be? He’d already gotten into her panties. He knew he would be again before the night was over. There was no reason for him to lie to her.

Besides, this was Aaron. He was as close to Honest Abe as Wellingford was likely to get. Ever since he got out of the Army, he’d been a rock for everyone around him.

He was offering to be a rock for her.

That truth rolled over her, threatening to draw out another whimper. Here was her high school crush, offering up everything she’d ever wanted on a platter. How was she supposed to respond to that?

She bit her lip. There was no need to put the cart before the horse. He said he liked her, not that he was going to take up a permanent spot in her life. Panicking was not the correct response right now. It took her two tries to get words out. “How about we focus on dinner for right now?”

He gave her a long look that seemed to see more than she wanted to show him. “That works for me.”

She managed to keep it together as they walked into the restaurant—a festive German place—and were escorted to their table. They gave their drink orders and then there was nothing to focus on but Aaron. He sat in his chair like it was the most comfortable thing in the world—something he managed to do wherever he was. But his attention seemed to be focused entirely on her.

It was both pleasant and unnerving.

She toyed with her fork. Small talk was easy enough, but she couldn’t bring herself to make some silly comment about the weather. Not when fifteen minutes ago, she’d been coming in his truck. Her legs still weren’t quite up to par after that orgasm. Marcy had always enjoyed sex, but she’d never thought herself to be a woman who wanted to be taken on a whim. Sex in an alley? Never going to happen. And yet with Aaron it had.

He was turning her into a little nymphomaniac, and she couldn’t bring herself to hate him for it. Not when she already wanted him again. She couldn’t quite wrap her mind around this level of need. It had never been like this with Jeff.

Maybe that was the problem. She had years of pent up sexual frustration and she was taking it all out on Aaron. She sipped her water and discarded that thought. This was solely because of him, no matter how much she wanted to blame it on anything else.

Desperate to get her mind away from that subject, she spoke the first thing to come to mind, “Why did you come back?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Getting right to the meaty stuff, huh?”

Marcy kicked herself, but she couldn’t take the words back. To be truthful, she’d been so intent on leaving Wellingford behind that she’d been baffled someone who’d managed to get free would choose to come back. She set her water aside. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“Honey, we can talk about whatever you want to.” He sat back. “I was like you and my sister in high school—ready to get the hell out of here and see as much of the world as I could. The Army was the answer, since I didn’t have much interest in sitting in a cubicle for a third of my life.” He looked away for the first time since they’d sat down. “No need to get into the dirty details, but it was hell. Less than six months after I got out of boot camp, the Twin Towers went down.”

She’d known that, but hearing his tone when he said it put a new perspective on it. “Was it horrible?”

“War is.” He shrugged, but there was a new tension in his shoulders. “After I got out, the thought of starting life over nearly sent me back in again. So I came home to get my feet under me.”

“That makes sense.” She couldn’t begin to imagine what he’d gone through, and Marcy had to admit she’d never really put much thought into it. He’d come back and then he’d just been Aaron. Plus, she’d been in the midst of trying to finish up college in Williamsport while balancing a relationship that was already on the rocks. She’d been focused on other things.

“It turns out the same things that I hated about Wellingford when I was in high school were the things that grounded me and kept me from losing it when I got back.” Another shrug. “That was a long time ago, though. I got past it, settled back into my roots, and made a life for myself here. And if the worst thing I have to deal with is dragging Rusty’s drunk ass home once a week, I count it as a blessing.”

Marcy dredged up a smile for the waiter when he dropped off their beers and took their orders. She turned back to Aaron as soon as he was gone. “I think I understand, at least a little. I don’t have the traumatic reasoning for staying—just an idiot boyfriend who liked his cushy job working for his dad too much to move away—but I stayed even when he left because everywhere I looked at taking Claire and settling down shared the same traits as Wellingford. Plus, my parents are here.” They’d helped her keep it together when she’d had a brand new baby and a year of schooling for her teacher’s certification left.

“A support system.” He nodded. “It’s strange how a few years and a whole lot of life can change your perspective.”

She smiled. “I was planning on going with Erin, you know. We were going to move to New York and live like queens in a tiny little apartment that probably had roaches. She was going to sing on Broadway and I’d get my degree in art history. I have no idea what I thought I was going to do with an art history degree in New York City but I was determined to have it.”

“Do you regret not leaving?” He waved his hand before she could say anything. “Obviously you don’t regret anything that resulted in your daughter, but not seeing more of the world before you settled down?”

She started to reply, but stopped and actually thought about it. Did she regret not having more of a wild youth and getting into the fun kind trouble like Erin had done? “Sometimes I think I would have liked to do a little more before life happened, like go to a college that was more than forty minutes from my front door, but mostly I’m grateful for the way things worked out. My priorities now aren’t what they used to be.” They pretty much boiled down to Claire and what was best for her, but Marcy had no regrets when it came to her daughter. If anything, being responsible for another person had kept her out of trouble over the years. The world became pretty black and white when she was making decisions that would impact more than just Marcy.

“Good.”

That was it. No pointed looks or pushing because he didn’t believe her. She said she had no regrets and Aaron took it at face value. It was…refreshing. Maybe she could really do this without compromising Claire. If things between them went well, she could ease her daughter into the idea of having a man—this man—around. Claire didn’t like change any more than Marcy did, but she could take things slow and let them both get used to each other.

The more they chatted, the surer she became that she could make it work. Letting the last of her worries go, she relaxed and enjoyed good conversation with a man she’d had a thing for as long as she could remember.

Maybe this could really happen without blowing up in her face.

Chapter Eight

The entire ride home, Marceline stayed cuddled up to Aaron in the middle seat. He could hardly believe how great the date had gone. She’d stopped pushing him away and seemed to really enjoy herself. “I want to see you again.”

She smiled. “You haven’t stopped seeing me this time.”

“And I still have a goodnight kiss before I do.” He wanted to show her how serious he was about this, which meant he had to put their plans for a bed on hold. It wasn’t easy to hold onto that thought with her leaning against him, smelling so sweet and feeling so good, but he’d managed. “When can you be free again?”

Her smile dimmed. “I don’t know. Maybe next weekend?”

A whole week before he could take her out again. He wanted to push for sooner, but that wouldn’t do anything but stress her out. She didn’t want to leave her daughter—or didn’t have a sitter—and he couldn’t fault her for that. He could be patient. He would be.

Aaron pulled up in front of her place and shut off the engine. “I’ll be counting down the days.” He opened his door and held a hand out to help her down. It was an excuse to keep touching her, but she didn’t call him on it. Instead, she let him tuck her against his body as they walked up to the front door.

“I had a really good time.” She stopped in front of the door, seeming as reluctant to end this night as he was.

“I did, too.” He took her hands, stopping them from fidgeting, and pulled her into his arms to kiss her, intending it to be a goodbye.

He should have known better.

Marceline melted against him, her tongue sliding into his mouth as she fisted the front of his shirt. He stepped forward and pressed her against the wall next to her door, using the leverage to lift her a little until she hissed out a breath as his cock slid against her softness. “More.”

He was already nodding before the word escaped her mouth. Aaron cupped her breast, dipping his hands beneath the fabric so he could trace her nipple. She nipped his bottom lip and then soothed it with her tongue, the taste of her better than any whiskey. He was reaching for the bottom of her dress when the porch light flicked on.

“Shit.” He got her dress in place and took a step back before the door opened, but it was a close thing. She moved in front of him, effectively hiding evidence of how turned on he was.

Bri Nave looked between them, and there was no doubt she knew exactly what they’d been doing because a big grin spread over her face. She focused on Marceline. “Looks like you’ve had a fun night. Things went great. Claire has been asleep for about an hour.”

“Wonderful.”

“I’m just going to…go now.” Bri slipped past them with a wave and practically skipped down the walkway and over to her house next door.

He waited until her door had shut and her porch light turned off before he stopped holding his breath. “That was close. I’m sorry.”

She turned around to face him. “I’m not. Not for this, either.” She took his hand and pulled him into her house. Aaron got an impression of floral couches that his grandmother would approve of and then they were down the short hallway and into a darkened bedroom.

“Marceline—”

She shut the door. “You said you wanted to get me into a bed.”

Yeah, but he’d also decided to play things slower from here on out. Aaron turned around to tell her that, but the words died. She stepped out of her dress, leaving her in only a pair of white panties and a barely-there bra. Even in the shadows, the sight stopped him in his tracks. She reached behind her and unclasped her bra. “Take me to bed.”

“Or lose you forever?”

She laughed softly. “Top Gun? I can’t tell if that’s better or worse than Richard III.” Marceline stepped closer, bringing them nearly chest-to-chest. She unbuttoned his shirt and slid it down his shoulders, the simple move killing him. “What are you waiting for, Aaron? Touch me.” She took his hand and pressed it to her breast. “Like you promised.”

To hell with good intentions. He lifted her and carried her to the bed in the middle of the room. This, at least, wasn’t floral, but he wouldn’t have cared if it was. He moved back, dragging her panties down her legs as he did. When he stood so he could get his pants off, she stretched her arms over her head and he groaned. “You have no idea how much I want you right now.”

“Show me.” She arched her back.

“Oh, honey, I’m going to.” He kicked off his pants and grabbed her hips so he could yank her to the edge of the bed. He went to his knees and kissed her center, needing her too much to tease. In this position he had her exactly where he wanted her, and he took full advantage of it. She muffled her own cries with a hand over her mouth, but he knocked it away and replaced it with his own. “I want to feel every sound you make.”

She nodded against his hand, and he rewarded her with another long lick over her clit. So he did it again and again, until she shook as she came apart around him, her moans vibrating against his palm. Only when she was quiet again did he slip on a condom and move up her body until he settled between her thighs. She opened her eyes as he slid into her, and the intimacy of the moment hit him somewhere deep in the chest. This was right. It couldn’t be more right if he’d tried. “The things you do to me.”

§

The things she did to him? Marcy had just experienced the best orgasm of her life and he was talking like she’d done him a favor. She kissed Aaron, needing to show him that she was as deeply affected. And she was. Having all his naked skin sliding against her own wasn’t doing nearly as much as those gray eyes staring down at her with something a whole lot deeper than like.

She wrapped her legs around him, holding him as close as she possibly could while he pushed her nearer to the moon with each stroke. When she couldn’t hold back her cries any more, he covered her mouth again, and hell if that didn’t make the whole thing that much hotter. She gave herself over to the feeling of him inside her, around her, covering her so thoroughly, she wasn’t sure where she ended and he began. The pressure inside her built, as inevitable as the tide, and sucked her under even as he shuddered over her.

Aaron collapsed to the side, keeping her pinned against his chest as the sweat dried on their bodies. Marcy had thought sex couldn’t get better than when she had it with him. She’d been so wrong. This was beyond better. Which only led her to wonder what would happen if they kept going.

“I think—” She caught the door opening out of the corner of her eye and flailed, kicking him off the opposite side of the bed and rolling the comforter around her in a single move just as Claire poked her head into the room.

“Mommy?”

Oh shit. What the hell had she been thinking, bringing Aaron here where Claire was? She was supposed to be taking things slowly, and she’d jumped straight in at the first opportunity. It was never a problem she’d had before, but every time she got too close to him, she was pulling stunts like this. “It’s nothing, baby. Just go back to bed and I’ll be in there in a minute to tuck you in.”

Instead of obeying, Claire leaned further into the room. “Who’s that?”

She glanced over her shoulder to find Aaron kneeling on the other side of the bed. He was effectively covered, but he would have made her life a lot easier if he’d just stayed on the floor until she got her daughter out of the room. “It’s no one, baby. Just a friend. Now, go to bed.”

Claire hemmed and hawed a minute longer, but finally obeyed. Marcy barely waited for the door to shut before she leapt to her feet and grabbed the first clothing she touched—a pair of running shorts and an oversized t-shirt. “I’ll be back.”

Aaron said something, but she shut the door in the middle of the sentence. He was an adult—he could wait until she got back. Right now she had to set things right with her daughter. Marcy stopped right outside her door and ran her fingers through her hair, hoping she could avoid more uncomfortable questions. She was so stupid for getting in this position to begin with. She didn’t do things like this. She didn’t bring men home, and she sure as hell didn’t bring them home and then not lock the door so her impressionable three-year-old could walk in on them.

She wanted to blame this on Aaron, but the truth was that it was her fault. She was the one who’d lost her head over him and put everything she’d worked so hard to accomplish at risk. One look from him and she was jeopardizing her job by having sex in a broom closet where anyone could walk in, or dragging him into her house without a thought to her sleeping kid or how confused Claire would be if she woke up and saw him.

She’d worked so hard to measure up to the responsibility of being a single mom, and she couldn’t afford to throw that away.

Not even for Aaron.

Claire’s nightlight was off when she stepped into the room, so that was the first thing she took care of. Her daughter was curled up in the middle of her twin bed, her big blue eyes wide. “Who was that, Mommy?”

“He’s just a friend.” The words were heavy like a lie, but she refused to get into a complicated discussion about the specifics.

“I want to meet him.”

This was exactly what she was afraid of—that Claire would irrationally bond with the first male who stepped into her life. She could do a lot worse than Aaron, but that didn’t mean it was right. He hadn’t asked for that level of responsibility. Yes, he cared about Marcy, but there were plenty of men out there who saw the mother and ignored the child. She was all too aware of the many ways such a situation could go wrong. She smoothed back Claire’s hair and pulled the covers up under her chin. “Maybe, baby. Not tonight.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s time for bed.” It was a token of just how tired she was that she didn’t keep arguing. Instead, she rolled over and let Marcy rub her back until her breathing evened out in sleep. Even then, she didn’t head back to her room for another five minutes.

Here, in this moment, she could almost pretend that things weren’t going to blow up in her face. When she had to face Aaron, she wasn’t going to be able to hold onto that belief any longer. With a sigh, she stood and made her way back to her bedroom. The longer she put it off, the worse it was going to be.

And it was going to be bad. There was no denying that when she found Aaron sitting on her bed, fully clothed and staring at his hands. He looked up as she shut the door behind her, but the expression on his face said he knew where her mind was. “A friend, Marceline? Not even worth a name?”

She’d hurt him. That realization only struck home how ill equipped she was to deal with this whole situation. With one fell swoop, she’d hurt Aaron and exposed her daughter to a situation she never should have been part of. “I can’t do this.”

He stood, towering over her. “Can’t? Or won’t? I’m sorry that things got so out of control, but that’s no reason to turn tail and run.”

“You make me sound like a coward.”

He shook his head. “I know what it’s like to check out of life because you can’t deal with the hand you’ve been dealt, but I thought you were ready to live again.”

“Aaron, I am living. My life might not be glamorous, but I’m happy.”

He stepped around her and opened the door. “When’s the last time you did something solely for the pleasure it brought you?”

It was this thing with him and he damn well knew it. Just because she wasn’t off being selfish and pursuing her own happiness didn’t mean she was somehow doing something wrong. Claire was happy. That was all that mattered. “You’re wrong.”

“If you say so. See you later.”

“I’d rather you didn’t.” It was going to be hard enough to get past this without having to see him on a regular basis. Maybe she really should take her chances down in Wildwood.

“Whatever makes you happy.”

“It will!” But that didn’t change the fact that her heart broke as he walked away from her.

Chapter Nine

“You want to tell me what the problem is?”

Aaron glanced up from writing his report to find Drew leaning against the desk across from him. He looked amused, which only made Aaron feel more pissed off. “There’s no problem.” No problem except a stubborn ass woman who was so determined to do the so-called right thing that she’d let her life slip by.

“You want to think harder and try that answer again.” Drew held up a stack of yellow papers. “I think you’ve set a new record for speeding tickets in one week.”

He’d been determined not to stand still long enough to think about how happy he’d been when he thought she was really going to give them a chance. The problem was there wasn’t exactly a lot of criminal activity going on in Wellingford on a day-to-day basis. So he’d set up a speed trap. “If people obeyed the speed limits, they wouldn’t have to worry about tickets.”

“You gave Old Joe’s grandson a ticket for going three over.”

Yeah, because the asshole had grinned at him and asked how Marcy was doing. What the hell was he even still doing in town? Aaron crossed his arms over his chest. “He broke the law.”

Drew gave him a long look. “Take the rest of the day off.”

A whole afternoon without something to occupy his mind? It sounded like hell from where he was sitting. “That’s not necessary.”

“I could care less about necessary. You need to deal with whatever it is that crawled up your ass before the whole population of Wellingford decides to demand your head.”

“Let them try.”

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about.” Drew stood. “You’re not acting like yourself. You’re spoiling for a fight, and you don’t need to be picking one while on the job. So go drink yourself stupid, or if you’re feeling really brave, why don’t you actually fix the problem?”

Fix the problem? He wasn’t sure that was possible without a lobotomy. That was the only way he’d get Marceline out of his system once and for all. “Easier said than done.”

“Jesus, Aaron, just go talk to her. Fix this shit. Today.”

Of course Drew thought he could just demand Aaron step in line. “It’s none of your goddamn business.”

“No, it’s not, and I don’t want it to be. I’m not a fucking relationship shrink. But I am your boss and I’m telling you right now to fix your shit or don’t come back.”

Surely he wasn’t… “You’re firing me?”

Drew marched over and dropped the stack of papers on his desk. “Easy fix—go talk to her.” He glanced at his watch. “School should be getting out about now. I bet you can catch her if you hurry.”

“I hate you.” But he was already reaching for his keys.

“You’re welcome. Good luck.”

He strode to his truck, the distance doing nothing to ease his irritation. Of all the people who he expected to meddle with his fucked up love life, Drew was the last on the list. The man couldn’t even hold down a relationship for more than a few months and he was telling Aaron to work his shit out? Typical.

He didn’t make a conscious decision to drive to the grade school, but he found himself there five minutes later. This was ridiculous and borderline stalking. She didn’t want to see him. She’d made that pretty damn clear when she made all her excuses on why this wouldn’t work between them. The truth was Marceline was scared shitless and she was letting that dictate her actions instead of taking a leap of faith.

After parking next to her car, he got out and leaned against his truck, letting the spring sunshine wash over him. It didn’t do a damn thing for his mood. There was only so much chasing he could do before even a stubborn ass like him had to chalk a situation up for a lost cause. The problem was he didn’t want to write Marceline off.

Aaron was more than ready to take on the responsibility that came with dating a single mom because any daughter of Marceline’s had to be one special kid. Hell, he’d covered her mouth when they were in her room because he was all too aware that they weren’t alone in the house.

But did she stop reacting long enough to think about that? Nope.

A throat clearing had him opening his eyes to see Old Joe. He blinked. “What are you doing here?”

The man grinned. “Mrs. Coulson and I thought you could use some help.” He shoved a bouquet of flowers into Aaron’s hands and walked away as the school bell rang, calling over his shoulder. “Don’t be too hard on Miss Marcy. She’s been miserable ever since you two had your falling out.”

How the hell would he know that? Then again, Marceline played cards with Miss Nora Lee, and she was thick as thieves with Old Joe. He caught sight of Mrs. Coulson waving at him from the entrance of the school and shook his head. Goddamn meddling townsfolk.

A few minutes later the front doors opened, expelling a giant tide of children. A few of them waved at him and he recognized them from career day. The memory of what came after actually brought a smile to his face. Was he really ready to give up on Marceline? He knew damn well that she hadn’t dated anyone since that shithole of an ex, and yet he’d expected her to magically get over all that and jump into his arms.

As much as he didn’t like the method, all she’d been trying to do was protect her daughter. If that wasn’t a noble reason to try to kick him out of her life, he didn’t know what was. He looked up and the world stood still.

She was ten feet away and had a stack of folders in her arms, looking like a ray of sunshine in her orange shirt and white skirt. “Aaron?”

It was now or never. He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Marceline. So damn sorry.”

§

She couldn’t believe it when she saw Aaron standing by her car with a bouquet of flowers and an apology on his lips. What did he have to apologize for? She was the one who’d acted like a beast. Which it seemed like everyone she’d encountered in the last week was all too willing to point out.

It didn’t make it easier to swallow their words when she knew they were right.

She hurried to him. “Don’t. Please don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s my fault.”

“It’s not. I expected you to welcome me with open arms without me doing anything to earn your trust. And then I got pissed when it didn’t work out like I wanted.”

If she nodded and said he was forgiven, things would go back to being good between them. As tempting as it was to just kiss him and move on with their lives, she had to get this out first. “You’ve had my trust from the beginning.” She set her folders on the trunk of her car. The truth was, that’s what scared her so badly. She didn’t exactly have a great track record when it came to men. But in torturing herself with the past of Jeff, she’d realized something vitally important.

Back in high school, she’d been so infatuated with the idea of someone taking care of her like Aaron took care of her best friend, that she’d fooled herself into believing Jeff was the same caliber of man. Marcy had been young enough to mistake a domineering attitude for true protective instincts and love. It was ancient history and she’d been blessed with Claire as a result.

But how could she doubt that Aaron was the real deal when he’d been her glowing standard since she was sixteen? She couldn’t. “I’m just… I don’t know how to say it. I’ve kept my head down and done everything I could to stabilize my life for the past few years, and then you came along and knocked me right off my path.”

“I’m sorry.”

“But I’m not. I was scared—terrified, really—because you make me feel things on a level that is so far beyond anything I’ve experienced.” She looked away and then made herself meet his gaze. “I’m still scared, Aaron. This is new and there are no guarantees and I’m so afraid I’m going to screw Claire up or drop the ball or do half a million other things that will bring the world crumbling down around me.”

“Oh, Marceline.” He set the flowers next to her folders and cupped her face. “You don’t have to shoulder that responsibility alone. I’m here.”

“What if one day you’re not?” And that was the crux of her problem. What if she gave in and let him take care of her and then he disappeared?

“If you want me in your life, it would take an act of God to force me out of it. I won’t leave just because things get rough.”

“Okay.” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Yes.”

He went still. “What?”

“I want you in my life.” She opened her eyes and smiled. The next words were harder than she would have guessed, but she managed. “Would you…would you like to come with me to pick up Claire? Maybe we could go for a walk in the park?”

“I’d like that.”

Which meant she had to get the rest of the words welling up inside her chest out. A leap of faith. “I want you, Aaron. More than want. I…I think I’ve been in love with you since I was seventeen years old.”

“That’s good to hear, because I’ve been in love with you at least that long.” He pressed butterfly kisses to each corner of her mouth. “Which means I have a good ten years of loving to make up for.”

Epilogue

Marcy held one of Claire’s hands while Aaron held the other as they made their way across the parking lot and into the restaurant. It was the same one they’d gone to on their first date, and it had become one of Claire’s favorites because she loved the paintings on the walls. As expected, she gave a squeal of happiness when they walked through the doors.

Aaron smiled at Marcy. “Think she’ll ever get tired of this place?”

“We’re going to before she does.” But not tonight, not when the last six months had been filled with such happiness she constantly had to pinch herself to check if it was real. Aaron had never faltered. From the moment he’d shown up at her school, he’d been there, an apparently permanent fixture in her life.

She’d thought she was happy before, but now she’d come to realize she’d just been dipping her toes in the shallow end. Having Aaron as a partner, as someone who’d come to love Claire just as much as she did and find equal delight—and occasional trauma—in raising a precocious three-year-old.

At the end of the day, they’d lay in bed and talk, and those quiet moments grounded her just as much as the sex and having him there as a shoulder to lean on when she’d had a rough day and couldn’t stand under her own strength.

“You’re thinking awfully hard over there.”

She smiled at him. “Just happy.”

“Me, too.” He held out her chair for her, and then did the same for Claire. As expected, that drew a delighted laugh from her daughter. Everything about him delighted her daughter. About a month after Marcy and he got together, he’d started taking Claire out on Aaron-and-Claire dates. So far, they’d toured the police station, the fire station, and pretty much every business in Wellingford because no one could say no to the combination. He was talking about starting Claire on mini hikes the next spring, and knowing he was just as excited about it as her daughter only made Marcy love him more.

Aaron ruffled her hair before taking his own seat. “Claire-bear, I have a very serious question to ask you.”

Her daughter drew herself up and put on a serious face. “What?”

“You know I love your Mommy.”

Claire sent her a look that was equal parts happy and baffled. “You do gross kissy stuff.”

He laughed. “That’s only part of the reason, but yes.” He leaned down until he was at her level. “I love you, too. You two have made me the happiest man on earth.”

Marcy smiled. It seemed like most mornings these days, she woke up with a smile on her face because she could smell Aaron on her sheets, even when he wasn’t there. He’d even switched his schedule around with the new guy at the sheriff’s office so he only worked nights when there was an emergency need to fill in so that those days she woke up alone were few and far in-between.

It’d gotten to the point where she sometimes wondered how she’d gotten on without him in her life. He was such a constant presence—a rock—and she felt so blessed that he’d bullied his way into her life.

Aaron drew out a little box that made Marcy’s heart skip a beat, but he seemed solely focused on Claire. “Claire-bear, I’m going to ask your Mommy to marry me, but I was hoping you’d say yes to being my little girl the same way you’re hers.” He held out a tiny ring with a little emerald—Claire’s birthstone—on it. “I’d be honored if you’d say yes.”

Marcy pressed a hand to her mouth, trying and failing to get control of her emotions while her daughter considered the ring. It was the kind of permanent promise he’d been making all along, but it suddenly felt so much more real to see the representation of it being offered to Claire.

If she’d had any doubts about Aaron before now—and she hadn’t—this would have turned them to ash. He was the man for her. He always had been.

Claire made grabby hands. “Yes!” When Aaron slipped the ring onto her finger, she held it up for inspection. “Look, Mommy! It’s so pretty!”

“It’s beautiful.” The setting was small enough not to look gaudy on a three-year-old’s hand, but just as obviously something that could be built on as she grew older. It was perfect.

She looked over as he rounded the table to go on one knee next to her. Had her heart skipped before? Now it felt like it was going to beat itself right out of her chest. “Aaron.”

“Marceline Bellini, I changed my mind.”

She blinked. “You have?”

“Yeah. When we got together, I said I had ten years of loving to make up for. I was wrong.” He opened an identical box to the one he’d presented Claire with. This one, however, held a large diamond with two emeralds nestled in against it on either side. “I need a whole lot more than ten years. I need forever. Will you marry me?”

As if there was any question of her saying no. She wanted him in their lives in the most permanent way possible. Her hand shook as she reached for him.

“Mommy.” Claire whispered loud enough to raise the dead. “Mommy, you better say yes.”

Marcy laughed, her heart in her throat. “Yes, Aaron, yes, I’ll marry you and spend the rest of my life loving you. Yes.”

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Acknowledgments

To God. These last few months have been pretty freaking terrible, but this story was a beam of light in the midst of chaos. Thank you for that.

To Heather. You’re right. We did need this. Every time I hear you say, “You’re going to kill me…” I know we’re about to go on a grand adventure. I can’t wait for the next one!

To Kari. Thank you for your input and for loving Aaron as much as I do. And for the never ending string of, AHEM, inspiration.

To Tim. For always being willing to distract the kids while I lock myself in the office to catch up on a million and one things, and never commenting on the Pinterest boards full of half-naked men. I love you. MUAH.

About the Author

New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author Katee Robert learned to tell stories at her grandpa’s knee. She discovered romance novels and never looked back. When not writing sexy contemporary and speculative fiction romance novels, she spends her time playing imaginary games with her wee ones, driving her husband batty with what-if questions, and planning for the inevitable zombie apocalypse.

www.kateerobert.com

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