"So this is personal?"
She sat there for a moment, looking absolutely lost. "I don't know. I “always felt so safe here, so normal. I thought-”
“That you might give that to Henry?”
“Is that dumb?” she asked, shaking her head. "Well, the inn is my newest venture so it’s not running away or anything. But I needed a break. Here seemed like a good idea.”
She looked at him and her eyes were naked. It was almost as if she sought to convince herself. He rose and put distance between them, mostly because his hands itched to touch her, to soothe her. ''A break?"
"Since Phillip's death, I've been struggling to keep my head above water. Not financially. Just mentally. He was my partner,kept everything under control so I could be creative. With him gone, I-”She lifted her hands. "Why am I telling you this? I haven't even talked about this with my therapist. It's not your problem. Really, I wanted to ask you about Henry. That's all. Not dump all my doubts and troubles into your lap."
"Isn't that what friends are for?" he asked.
But we're not friends. We're not anything. We're two memories of a friendship.” She leaned forward and set her chin on her hands, not looking at him.
He stilled at her words. "Memories. Yeah, I guess that's what we are."
Silence once again reigned.
He watched her as she struggled to find something to say. Something not as harsh as implying he meant nothing to her. The words hurt, and the flicker of hope he'd held earlier that day wavered. Why had he thought there could be something more between them? His yearning was of the heart, not of the reality of the world. She'd always done that to him. Made him believe in things he had no sense in believing. Things like beauty, honor, and purity. Things no one would associate with the man he was. Brent was sex, sin, and cowardice. He lived a lie because he was a lazy chickenshit. Was there any good reason to change now? Surely he could live the rest of his life screwing, drinking, and hiding who he truly was to the world. Why not? Lots of people lived a lie.
Rayne had moved on in life, even if she were taking a temporary detour, so he needed to stop trying to make something out of nothing. It was too late to chase that dream."You shouldn't have come here. I'm the contractor. I'm Henry's coach. Nothing else."
She rose and tossed loose curls the color of pennies behind her shoulders. "You're right. I don't know why I came. I do and I don't, you know?”
He shrugged but didn't say anything.
"Thank you for helping with Henry. I'm glad you're aware he's having problems. I would have told you anyway. Since you're his coach."
He nodded and held his ground, a statue frozen in the glow of the torchlight against the window panes.
Rayne walked toward him, her eyes soft in the scant light. “I shouldn't have…I didn't mean to hurt your feelings." She stopped in front of him, reached out, and squeezed his shoulder.
"You didn't hurt me. You're right. I'm just a memory."
A small smile slipped to her lips."You forget. I know you."
"You think you do, but you don't. Not anymore."
“I know you’re not what you pretend to be.”
“Oh, do you?” Her words angered him. Drove him to do something he shouldn’t.
He swiftly pulled her to him, lowered his head, and covered her lips with him. Hard, punishing, using her surprise to his advantage and hauling her against him so that she fit him in all the right places, he gave into what he wanted from her.
She groaned, softened, and for three whole seconds their kiss was agony and ecstasy.
He forced himself to rip his lips from her yielding ones. He pulled back and studied her glistening mouth as if it were the finest art before moving his gaze to her cinnamon eyes. They were soft with desire, and he could feel the want sloughing off her. “I am what I am, Rayne. Just exactly what everyone says. Good for it. A sure bet. So the next time you walk through my door, I'll know what it’s for. And I’ll give you what you want.”
She straightened, her eyes flashing. “Oh, please. Don’t act like I’m the same ol’ pathetic girl who dogged your footsteps. I’ve changed.”
"I noticed." He allowed his voice to drop to a silky purr, all the while hating himself for stooping to such tactics. She wantedhim. If anyone knew a woman's desires, it was Brent. So he asserted control the only way he knew how,using the gift God had given him to its fullest. Like a cat with a mouse, he'd toyed with her desire for him, the yearning she'd always held for him. For a half second he’d enjoyed overriding her defenses because she’s hurt him.
Her eyes crackled. “Yeah? Well, you forget that of all the women in this town, I know you. And because I do, I know exactly what you're doing. It won't work on me."
"Oh, yeah?" He purred again, wrapping a curl around his finger and tugging her forward so he could reach out and stroke one of the nipples outlined against her T-shirt.
She inhaled, but caught herself. Then something happened, something that had happened only once before. Rayne smiled, and it was a devious smile. Her brown eyes filled with power and naughtiness. The mouse had turned the tables on him. "Know what?"