“Yes, it’s perfect. Rafe didn’t mention that he wanted one.”
“I wanted one,” Devin told her. “Don’t worry, I ran it by him.” He hooked the other end and gave it a testing swing. “Works.” Bending, he gathered up the tools. “Going to try it out with me?”
“I really have to—”
“Try it out with me,” Devin finished, setting the tools aside in their case. “I put it up because I figured it was a good way to get you to sit with me on a summer afternoon. A good way for me to kiss you again.”
“Oh.”
“You said you didn’t mind.”
“No, I didn’t. I don’t.” There it was again, that flutter in her chest. “Aren’t you supposed to be working?”
“It’s my day off. Sort of.” He held out a hand, then curled his fingers around hers. “You look pretty today, Cassie.”
Automatically she brushed at her apron. “I’ve been cleaning.”
“Real pretty,” he murmured, drawing her to the swing, and down.
“I should get you something cold to drink.”
“You know, one of these days you’re going to figure out that I don’t come around so you can serve me cold drinks.”
“Connor said you worried about me. You don’t have to. I was hoping you’d come by so I could tell you how much I appreciate what you did for him the other day. The way you made him feel.”
“I didn’t do anything. He earned what he felt. You’ve got a fine boy in Connor.”
“I know.” She took a deep breath and relaxed enough to lean back against the seat. The rhythm of the swing took her back, far back, to childhood and sweet days, endless summers. Her lips curved, and then she laughed.
“What’s funny?”
“It’s just this, sitting here on a porch swing, like a couple of teenagers.”
“Well, if you were sixteen again, this would be my next move.” He lifted up his arms, stretched, then let one drape casually over her shoulders. “Subtle, huh?”
She laughed again, tilted her face toward his. “When I was sixteen, you were too bad to be subtle. Everybody knew how you snuck off to the quarry with girls and—”
The best way to stop her mouth was with his. He did so gently, savoring the quick tremor of her lips, of her body.
“Not so subtle,” he said quietly. “Wanna go to the quarry?” When she stuttered, he only laughed. “Some other time. For now I’d settle for you kissing me back. Kiss me back, Cassie, like you were sixteen and didn’t have a worry in the world.”
With someone else, anyone else, he might have been amused by the concentration on her face. But it struck his heart, the way her mouth lifted to his, that hesitant pressure, the unschooled way her hands lifted to rest on his shoulders.
“Relax,” he said against her mouth. “Turn off your head for a minute. Can you do that?”
“I don’t…” She didn’t turn it off. It shut off when his tongue danced lightly over hers, when his hands skimmed down her sides and up again. Down and up, in firm, steady strokes that had the heels of his hands just brushing the sides of her breasts.
“I love the taste of you.” He pressed his lips to her jaw, her temples, back to her lips. “I’ve dreamed of it.”
“You have?”
“Most of my life. I’ve wanted to be with you like this for years. Forever.”
The words were seeping through that lovely haze of pleasure that covered her whenever he kissed her. “But—”
“You got married.” He trailed his lips down her cheek. “I didn’t move fast enough. I got drunk the day you married Joe Dolin. Bli
nd, falling-down drunk. I didn’t know what else to do. I thought about killing him, but I figured you must have wanted him. So that was that.”