Page 73 of Beat of Love
That it would get easier.
That healing was possible.
But she couldn’t.
He didn’t want her near him.
And she needed to respect his wishes.
Still, she didn’t look away, ignoring the stab of guilt for spying, because dammit — she had to know he was okay.
“So much trouble,” she repeated, following the figure pacing in Elsa’s paddock.
She hadn’t been able to shake the way Rafferty kissed her. That reckless kiss that felt like it carried the weight of a hundred unsaid things. It hadn’t been sweet or careful; it had been desperate, like he thought she might vanish if he didn’t hold on tight enough.
And she hadn’t hesitated — not for a second. She’d kissed him back like she meant it. Because she had. Because somewhere deep down, she’d been waiting for that exact kind of madness.
The way his hands gripped her hair, like it grounded him.
The way his voice cracked when he asked her to tell him to stop.
Even as his whole body begged her not to.
She could still feel the tremble in his breath, the quiet plea in his eyes when he looked at her like she was salvation.
And when she’d told him not to stop — whispered it into his mouth like a vow — she’d meant that too.
No turning back.
Not from him.
Not anymore.
“It was … intense. Honest. Like he wasn’t sure he should but kissing me was a … compulsion. And I kissed him back because, dammit, there was no way I could not. And I wouldn’t have stopped at kisses either. He could’ve thrown me down, ripped my clothes off, fucked me senseless right there on my office floor, and I would’ve been okay with that.”
Brandy exhaled, slow and shaky. “And that was after he told me he’d been Kamila’s lover.”
“Who’s Kamila?”
“Fantasma Cartel boss,” she hissed.
There was a dead silence for a beat before Jackie continued. “Maybe I need some context here?”
Knowing her confession wouldn’t go further than Jackie, Brandy gave her best friend a summarized version of the day’s events, starting with her inviting herself on the ride to repair the fence line, to Rafferty’s breakdown in the treehouse, and ending with his confession about his relationship with Kamila.
“And then we kissed. And he walked out.”
“Oh. Well, damn. That’s … complicated.”
“Complicated?” she snorted. “I have kids, Jackie. Teenagers. Hormonal, social-media-obsessed, no-filter teenagers. What am I thinking? Mooning over a self-confessed cartel member. He said he felt at home with those people. Accepted. I should be running as far from him as possible. Not lying in my bed yearning for another kiss. Formore.”
Jackie made a noncommittal noise. “You’re thinking what any hot-blooded woman would think when a haunted, dangerous man kisses her. You’re thinking — why not?”
“I’m drawn to him,” Brandy groused. “He’s like some bad boy magnet pulled straight from a cautionary tale.”
“Hmm.”
“Not helping.”
