Page 32 of Trust Me With Forever

Including the most magical and consuming kiss of my life.

Chapter Thirteen

Rafe

Me:Just an FYI, I have a surprise for everyone tonight, Emmy.

Emmy:A good kind of surprise? Or, more like I need to duck behind furniture kind of surprise?

Me:Somewhere in-between. But I need your help with West.

Emmy:Uh-oh, now I’m worried. Why?

Me:He might not like it.

Emmy:That’s unhelpful, Rafe. What’s going on?

Me:You’ll see soon. But I’d rather not end up dead tonight.

Emmy:Don’t you trust me?

Me:I do. But it’s not just my secret to share. Please, Em. Will you keep West from murdering me?

Emmy:I’ll try, but I can’t make any guarantees.

Me:That’s good enough for me. Thanks, sis.

Emmy:You’d better bring some macarons with you, then. I’m craving them, and Avery can’t make them yet.

Me:Wait, are you pregnant?

Emmy:No! I just want some fancy cookies.

Me:Consider it done. See you soon.

The drive to my sister’s house had felt like an hour instead of fifteen minutes. Not just because of dreading West’s reaction to Abby and my news, but also because I was both hesitant and looking forward to finally seeing Abby again.

Since our kiss the day before yesterday, I hadn’t talked with her in person for more than a few minutes here and there at the training center. Oh, we’d finalized our story over the phone. But even then, it’d lacked the playfulness from before I’d nearly made her come on my lap.

Fuck, just remembering her hot mouth and tongue twirling with mine as she pressed against me made my dick stir. It’d been one kiss, just one, and we hadn’t even been naked. And yet, I’d dreamed of it both nights and spent way too much time wondering what would’ve happened if I hadn’t stopped it.

Which had been the right thing to do. I wasn’t about to take advantage of Abby, especially after what that bastard had done to her.

And yet, her sweet moans and her taste and the feel of her ass in my hands made me want her every second of every day. How the fuck had one kiss changed her from my sister’s best friend—attractive, but just another woman—into the person constantly invading my thoughts? I craved Abigail Wolfe like nothing I’d craved before.

Oh, wait—Abigail Mendoza.

My wife.

Maybe I should eventually claim my wife?

No, don’t do it. Don’t make things complicated.

Thankfully, I pulled up to my sister’s place before my thoughts could turn dangerous again. She lived in the samewhite, two-story house we’d grown up in, which sat a short distance from the red barn where Emmy held most of her wedding receptions. I turned off the ignition and stared at the house, one where I’d been loved and cared for and had never thought I’d be thirty-six years old and without either of my parents.

Parents who were dead because of me.

I’d been here a few times over the last four months or so, but it never got any easier. Even though Emmy had redecorated the inside, making it her own, each room still held a ton of memories. Happy ones that only twisted the knife of guilt in my heart even more.

---