Page 76 of Takes Two to Tango

''Hey," she said, brushing his back. It was like hot flames licking his skin, a mixture of pleasure and pain.

"You made it back,'' he said, not yet meeting her eyes.

He didn't want her to see how much he wanted her. How much he needed to grab hold of her the same way she'd done to Henry minutes before.

“Harder than I thought it would be. Little windy” she joked, snaking her arms around his waist, squeezing him. "Thank you. Thank you so much. For taking care of Henry. For being there for him when he needed it."

Wrapped in Rayne's arms was exactly where he wanted to be, but he couldn't allow himself the pleasure. Not when he hung in limbo. He gave her a squeeze, unwrapped himself from her, and stepped away. "You're welcome."

He could feel her question in the silence. And he thought about all the times he’d unwrapped a woman from his body and moved away from her. Too many times. He’d always comforted himself that they knew the score, that what they’d done was understood. Now he knew how they felt. Well, some of them.

Because he wanted Rayne Rose to love him, to choose him, to stay with him and make his life better.

And he was fairly certain she was going to do to him what he’d done to so many others.

She was going to walk away.

RAYNE WATCHED AS BRENTmoved away from her. He'd pulled away. Physically. Mentally. And it hurt. The vibes were deep, and after the afternoon of near exhausting emotions, she didn't want to wade through more with Brent. Not yet.

But obviously she wasn't getting what she wanted.

"Why did you pull away?" she asked, latching her hands behind her back and keeping an eye on Henry as he tossed a ball for the Boston terrier that belonged to the Hamiltons.

Brent didn't answer. Just stared at the sagging gutter on the side of the Hamilton's house. He seemed so not himself.

"Brent?"

He turned toward her. "Did you come back for Henry? Or for me?"

Rayne opened her mouth, but Henry chose that moment to run toward them. He galloped full speed tugging on the dog's rope toy. "Hey, Mom. Can we get a dog? I think I need one."

Brent glanced at Henry and then back at her. She opened her mouth and then closed it as Henry looked at Brent.

"Apple's not yours, is she? She's your mom and dad's, huh?” Henry went right on talking as he tugged the now-growling dog in circles around them. "Maybe I can get one just like her. I mean she's cute with her mashed-up nose, huh? Can I, Mom?"

"Henry. Please stop pulling that dog. Brent and I are trying to talk. Take her to the porch," Rayne said, trying to tamp down the irritation she felt at being interrupted. Ten minutes ago she'd kissed Henry all over his sweet little face. Now she felt exasperation creeping in. The timing was off. She couldn't talk to Brent about their complicated relationship after a tornado had swept through town. Not with Henry whirling around them much as the storm had done. Not in the side yard of his parents' house with rain dripping from the trees.

“I can’t, Mom. She might eat that baby squirrel. She likes to eat frogs, too. Brent says they make her throw up. So-"

''Now,” she said trying not to yell.

Henry gave her a hurt look but slunk toward the porch, dragging the dog with him. Apple had her teeth clamped on the rope and shook her head ferociously.

Guilt flooded Rayne. "Um, after I finish talking to Brent, I'll get you a Pop-Tart.”

Henry visibly brightened.

Great. She now used processed food to bribe her child. She'd sunk to a new low. She opened her mouth to say "nevermind" as Brent's mother stepped onto the porch. She called for Henry to come have some gingersnaps and milk. He threw Rayne a questioning look before looking back at Mrs. Hamilton.

The older woman didn't give Henry time to refuse. She turned and disappeared into the large house. Apple, who obviously knew what gingersnaps were, took off, abandoning her rope toy in the wet grass. Henry followed.

Rayne glanced at Brent. He brooded. She hadn't seen him do that in quite a while. "Brent?"

He looked at her, his light blue eyes so indecipherable. "What happened in New York?"

"Before we talk about me and New York, let's talk about what happened here. What have you heard about damage? Is everyone okay?" She looked around but there was no place to sit. Everything was wet including her feet. Strappy sandals weren't the best choice for slogging through storm-strewn yards.

Ever in tune to her, Brent jerked his head toward the carriage house. "Let's sit on my porch and talk."

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