A moment passes, and then he says, "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For thinking I'm macho."
Oh my God, this guy is totally killing me with his lines, and that is so not good—-
"By the way..."
I stare at him warily, wondering if he's about to threaten my heart again with another killer line.
"You never told me your name."
I breathe a sigh of relief. Oh thank God. Something prosaic to talk about, finally, and I'm just so grateful I happily give my name up. "It's Raffi."
"Just Raffi?"
"Short for Serafina."
"Much better."
The words startle a smile out of me. "That's kinda telling, don't you think?" I shift in my seat to look at Wyoming Keanu, thinking I'd tease him about being old-fashioned—-
Shit.
I quickly look away before the heat in his eyes has me doing something stupid. I just don't understand this guy. He's Wyoming Keanu, for God's sake, while I'm...well...I'm the type of girl guys like to hang out rather than make out with. I bring the big O to ordinary, and yet I just caught him staring at me like he's been eye-fucking me this entire time. Is it because there's a shortage of females in Wyoming or...wait a minute.
I think I finally get why he's acting like this, and I turn to him right away, saying, "I think I should make something clear."
"I'm listening."
I clear my throat, and then I say as firmly as I can, "I Am Not Easy. Okay?"
Silence.
"I know it's hard to believe when it seems like I've come on to you first, telling you you're handsome and...and macho, but you shouldn't really read anything into it."
"I shouldn't?"
"You can feel flattered if you want."
"I can?"
"I mean, I don't normally say things like that."
"You don't?"
I open my mouth to answer when it suddenly hits me. I look at him suspiciously, and as if sensing my gaze, Wyoming Keanu also turns my way...with a sexy little smirk playing over his lips.
"Jerk!" I sock his shoulder hard even as a helpless laugh bubbles past my lips. I can't believe it took me so long to realize he was letting the whole conversation play out just to enjoy the sight of me squirming.
"You're Chief of Police," I say chidingly. "You're not supposed to act like a jerk."
"You're probably right," he agrees. "But since I'm off duty right now..."
His tone lowers a notch, and I manage to make myself scowl even as my whole body feels like it's on fire. "Will you quit that?" I grumble. "I mean it when I said—-"
"I never thought you were easy."
The mildness of his tone throws me off, and my mind goes blank. He has to be lying. He has to. Why else would he bother—-
"We're here."
What was that? What does he mean we're here—-oh. I realize what he means when I see him switching the engine off, and I quickly paste a smile on my face even as my heart aches at the thought of him leaving. "Right. Um. Thanks then."
"Let me open—-"
"It's fine, thanks." I open my door and jump out of the pick-up without looking at him. It was nice spending time with Wyoming Keanu, but it's time for a reality check.
A blast of icy wind strikes my skin as I study the B&B he's taken me to. It's a picturesque three-story brick building, and I hear its doors being unlocked just as Aidan takes my hand-carry out of the backseat.
"Thank you for all of your help," I say politely.
"I'll help you check in."
"It's not necessary." I try reaching for the handle of my luggage, but he swiftly puts it behind his back, and I end up falling against him as I lose my balance.
Shit.
Before I can even try moving away, one hand is already gripping my hair while Aidan has his other arm going around my waist.
"Stop—-"
But he's already pulling me closer, and my heart races. I put my hands up, intending to push him away, but the moment I come into contact with the muscular wall of his chest—-
Oh God.
My senses reel at the hard warmth of his body, and I find myself clutching his shirt instead of pushing him away.
"Serafina..."
Hearing my name on his lips makes me whimper, and the sound makes his hold on my hair tighten...just before his mouth crashes over mine, and I'm suddenly drowning in a maelstrom of heat and passion. The kiss deepens, and my heart slams against my chest. His lips ravage mine over and over, his kiss scorching the air around us until every inch of me is burning—-
No!
I manage to wrench myself away, shaken and desperately clinging to the last smallest piece of sanity inside of me. "Why did you do that?"
"Because I want to kiss you."
"You just can't kiss—-"
"I also want you to be my girlfriend."
"What?"
"But if you're ready for marriage—-"
"Are you insane?"
"Please don't think this is a dig on your current situation, but..." His broad shoulders move in a shrug. "I've never had problems knowing what I want."
Shit.
It really does sound like a dig, and I almost wish I can convince myself it is one.
But one look at his gaze, and I know Wyoming Keanu isn't lying. He really does think he likes me. Really does think he wants me to be his girlfriend, and...I just wish I can make myself think it's true.
"I'm flattered," I say lightly, "but I'll have to say no. One of us has to be sensible, and you don't even know me—-"
"I know enough," he says quietly.
What does that even mean?
"I know you think what just happened is next to crazy—-"
"Because it is," I cry out.
"And I can tell you're running away from something—-"
I freeze.
"But whatever it is—-"
I start shaking my head.
"I can—-"
"You can't." It hurts to say the words, and it hurts even more to see the way Aidan's looking at me and think of what could've been. It hurts because I want so badly to think it's real.
But it's not.
I show him the necklace resting under my shirt, and the way his jaw clenches tells me Wyoming Keanu knows exactly what the ring hanging from it means.
Chapter Three
"Good...morning?" What starts out as a cheerful greeting ends in an understandable note of concern, and I hastily muster up a smile when Bettina's gaze grows increasingly anxious as she watches me descend the last steps of the B&B's spiral staircase.
I can't blame her, really. I had hoped a long, relaxing shower would repair some of last night's damage, but my reflection on the mirror says otherwise.
Wyoming Keanu kept me up all night, and it totally shows. Think dark shadows under slightly puffy eyes, and a faintly red spot on the edge of my forehead that may or may not be the birth of a dreaded pimple. Honestly, I can't even remember the last time I've had acne problems. Maybe seven years ago? Or eight? Point is, that's how much he troubles me, and it's just...not...right!