LITMIR.BIZ

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face.

      “Wade,” she whispered. “Kiss me.”

      His jaw turned rigid. His fierce gaze burned into hers.

      “Please,” she whispered again, her urgency rising. She couldn’t bear it if he turned away.

      “Erin…” His voice sounded strangled, tortured.

      “Just a kiss. Just…” His gaze scorched her lips. Cicadas screamed in the air.

      Then he lifted his hands and her breath stalled. And he blazed a trail along her jaw, stroking her neck, her throat with his thumbs, sending ripples of excitement splintering through her.

      The air around them stilled. Her pulse ran wild in her throat. And then he tugged up her chin and angled his head, and moved his mouth over hers. Slowly, tenderly. As if she were something fragile, something precious.

      As if he loved her.

      Her lungs seized up. Her eyes fluttered closed and her heart refused to beat.

      But then he probed the seam of her mouth with his tongue and she parted her lips on a gasp. And his tongue swept through her mouth, bold and sure, and insistent, until shivers blazed over her skin and hot blood pooled in her veins.

      He widened his stance and pulled her against his arousal. The sensation shocked her. Excited her. Her heart nearly leaped from her chest.

      And then he groaned and tightened his arms, and seemed to lose all control, devouring her in a deep, carnal kiss that blasted away every thought. Jolting her, flaying her, reeling her in deeper and harder. Until a fever of need scorched her nerves and her body quivered with pleasure.

      She moaned against his mouth, feeling dazed, drugged, obsessed. She craved his big, rough hands on her skin. His hard body fused with hers.

      But he pushed her head to his neck and clamped her tightly against him. Her heart thundered inside her chest. His breath rasped loud in her ear.

      “Wade, make love to me,” she whimpered.

      “No, Erin.” His voice was jagged, hoarse. “Don’t do this.”

      “Please.” Desperate, she pressed herself against him. She’d die if he left her now.

      “You don’t know what you’re asking.” He was trembling, sucking in air, as if he’d run ten miles.

      “Yes, I do. I want you.”

      She pulled her head from his grasp. His eyes were stark. Emotions warred in his face. Resistance. Frustration. Hunger.

      “Wade, please,” she pleaded, her voice breaking.

      “I’ll hurt you. Don’t you understand? I don’t want to hurt you.”

      “You won’t. You can’t.” She burned for him, ached for him to fill that void inside her. “I need you.”

      He tipped back his head and shuddered. He made a deep, rough sound in his throat.

      And then he hauled her against him and crushed his mouth over hers, ravaging her, scalding her, until need overcame thought. Until their senses burned and their bodies merged, and she knew what it meant to love.

      It had been exquisite, the most thrilling night of her life. A perfect moment in time.

      But reality returned with the dawn and he’d closed down that glimpse of his heart. And she’d realized that it hadn’t been enough, that she couldn’t convince him to stay. And she’d stood there alone on her porch, her heart shattering, her entire world collapsing, as the Harley’s rumble receded and the man she loved rode away.

      Her deep sigh cut through the night. And now he was back in her life. Not by choice, of course. And nothing had really changed. He didn’t want a relationship. And he certainly didn’t want her love. All she could offer was friendship, for however long he stayed—which wouldn’t be long now that Norm had died.

      She sighed again, heavier this time. She didn’t envy him the days ahead. Attending the funeral. Settling the estate. Dispensing with Norm’s belongings.

      Then another thought occurred to her and a dull dread crept through her heart. With Norm gone, she had to repay the loan. Norm had never pressed her for payments, but now she didn’t have a choice.

      But where could she get the money? She’d already taken out one bank loan and she had nowhere else to turn.

      She also had to tell Wade. He would probably inherit Norm’s estate, so she’d owe him the money now.

      She frowned at that complication. Wade had enough to contend with without burdening him with her problems. But she could hardly avoid telling him. She’d do it the first chance she had.

      Uneasy now, she gently released his hand. She tucked the quilt around his legs, then rose, hoping in sleep he’d find the peace he deserved. A peace that would elude her until she found a way to repay Norm’s loan.

      Chapter Four

      Cars and trucks lined Norm’s street when Wade pulled up the next morning. He took one glance at the throng of vehicles and nearly kept on going.

      But he’d already ridden for hours and it hadn’t done any good. After a miserable, restless night, he’d dragged himself out of bed, jumped on his Harley, and hurtled down the country roads—just opened the throttle and unleashed the V-Rod’s raw power. But the grief still clamped down on him, crushing him, like a huge vise squeezing his chest.

      And the last thing he wanted to do right now was to deal with people. He didn’t want condolences and he sure as hell didn’t want pity. But he couldn’t leave town yet. He’d promised Norm he’d stay and he would, until they buried him in the ground.

      A sharp ache knifed through his chest, but he sucked in a ragged breath. Then, before he could change his mind, he parked the bike, strode up the short cement walkway and pushed open the door to the kitchen.

      As he’d expected, the house overflowed with neighbors. Max waved from across the kitchen to get his attention, and worked his way to him through the crowd.

      “Wade, thank God you’re here.” Max clapped his hand on his shoulder. “Ed from the funeral parlor called. You need to call him back.”

      Wade spotted the coffee machine on the counter, flanked by cakes and rolls. “Why does he want to talk to me?”

      “He needs to know what you decided about the funeral.”

      “What do you mean, what I decided? Why couldn’t you handle that?” He moved to the counter, tugged a foam cup off the stack and poured himself some coffee.

      “Because you’re next of kin. And I wasn’t sure if you’d want a viewing or just the service.”

      Viewing? Service? What the hell did he care? He wanted to bury Norm and leave town.

      “They’ll send the obituary to the newspaper, too,” Max added. “As soon as you confirm the details. Norm left everything you’d need with the will.”

      “Everything I’d need for what? What are you talking about?”

      Max scratched his head. “You didn’t know? Norm told me it was all set.”

      He slugged back the coffee, then narrowed his eyes at Max. “Exactly what am I supposed to know?”

      “That you’re executor of the will.”

      “Executor? You’re kidding.” How could he do that? Didn’t an executor have to file papers? Pay taxes? Jump through hoops of red tape? “I don’t even live here anymore.”

      Max shrugged. “It shouldn’t take long. A few months maybe.”

      “A few months!”

      “Maybe longer. They can tell you at the courthouse.”

      He stared at Max.

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