Page 37 of Rocky Mountain Devil

“What?” Laurel demanded. “I know that laugh. You did something terrible.”

“Did not.”

“Rafe…”

He shook his head. “Nope. Not me. Just thinking that the Coleman land’s got my back.”

He wasn’t making any sense. She made a face at him then looked out the front window at the passing countryside. He’d left Rocky Mountain House, headed north. “Fine, keep your secrets for now. I’ll tease them out of you later.”

They sat in silence for a minute, and she closed her eyes. It was fortunate the evening had turned out the way it had. She could easily avoid Jeff during the week, and after next Sunday he’d be gone—hopefully never to return. That part of her history would be gone and forgotten.

The truck slowed, and she popped open her eyes as Rafe took the corner into his brother’s place.

While she liked Gabe and Allison, a visit with them wasn’t exactly what she’d been thinking of for a date. Still, she put on a good face.

“How are Gabe and Allison?”

“Fine.”

He drove right past the house to the opposite side of the new barn.

Okaaaay. “Are you sure I’m dressed for the occasion?”

Rafe caught her by the hand and tugged her out the door after him, the smooth glide of her body against his sending a lovely shot of heat through her system.

“Trust me.” He opened the main door and gestured her in.

Light faded to nothing inside the barn. Rafe grabbed a flashlight from the side of the door and offered it to her.

“One for you, and one for me.” He clicked his on. “This way.”

Chapter Eight

Dinner had turned out surprisingly well, considering Rafe had spent most of the evening trying not to say something inflammatory to get under Jeff’s skin. Instead he took what pleasure he could from realizing the other man hadn’t gone unscathed from their encounter that morning.

It wasn’t as good as planting a fist in Jeff’s gut, but knowing the stinging nettles on the thistles had gotten to him enough to make Jeff squirm was worth a few laughs.

Coming out to Angel property—far more comfortable. He and Laurel had a lot to discuss, but he didn’t want what was their first real date to just be about getting things out in the open.

He’d hurried after getting the invite to dinner and made a few arrangements before going to pick Laurel up. Now he guided her across the floor, her fingers linked in his. The barn smelled like a barn, but a clean, fresh one. Low contented sounds echoed on the air occasionally as she stepped beside him, the boards underfoot clean and white-yellow, not yet aged or stained by years of use.

Laurel swept her arm forward, the light from her flashlight a broad oval ahead of their feet. “Are we spies tonight?” she whispered. “We haven’t done that for ages.”

He chuckled as he led her to a steep staircase against the sidewall. “We do have lights in here,” he said. “But I like how the flashlights feel.”

She squeezed his fingers before reaching for the railing. “I don’t mind. Let’s pretend we’re going on a treasure hunt.”

“Pretend away.”

The staircase was longer than in a regular house, leading up to the second level far above the animals below. The back half of the hayloft was already full, but there was room for a whole lot more bales to be stacked.

He dropped his phone into a speaker set at the top of the stairs and clicked on the playlist he’d made before leading her toward the open area where he’d set a cloth-covered table and two chairs, flickering lights glowing in welcome.

“Rafe Coleman, are thosecandlesyou left burning in a hayloft?” She sounded panicked and outraged, ready to rush forward and put them out.

“Worrywart.” He snagged her by the hand to keep her close until he could pick one up and flip it over to show her the switch on the bottom. “Battery operated.”

She flopped into the chair he held for her. “You’re crazy. There was no need to leave things lit up.”