Page 40 of Rocky Mountain Devil

“Jeff didn’t break my heart. Not really,” Laurel said. “I haven’t told my parents that we dated, though, and I don’t think he’s mentioned it either.”

“Awesome. Very churchy and upright of him.”

She offered him a dirty look. “Hey, don’t blame him alone. I’m sure he was worried about visiting Rocky, wondering what my dad would say to him.”

“Oh, he’s a brave man. Totally Captain Canada material.”

“Don’t be a jerk,” Laurel muttered. “I’m just as bad. I’m enjoying the mental picture of Jeff dancing carefully around my father far too much. He had to be totally shocked to find out I hadn’t said anything.”

“You’re not going to convince me you’re a villain, Sitko, so give it a rest. A little foolish, but not a villain.”

“Hey, Mom and Dad not knowing isn’t as foolish as it sounds,” she said. “The whole idea was to go away and spread my wings a little. I didn’t want to tell my parents everything right as it happened, and by the time we were getting to the stage I thought there was something to tell, there wasn’t.”

She stared into space, the sadness on her face seeming deeper than just a first love gone wrong.

“This sucks on so many levels.” Rafe wasn’t sure the whole keeping-secrets-from-her-parents thing was a great idea, and while there had to be more to the story regarding Jeff dumping her for another woman—what he did know confirmed Rafe’s opinion.

Jeff was an idiot, an asshole, and Rafe didn’t like him one fucking bit.

But it was time to switch topics, and stop wasting their date thinking about the bastard.

Rafe stood and brought Laurel with him to the edge of the loft floor. “Well, I can’t change the past, but I’ll be there for you. I’ll keep him away from you.”

“I can deal with Jeff,” Laurel said. “What are you grinning like that for?”

“It’s date time.” The second part of his prepared surprise. “Remember how you always complained about never getting to come out to my place because you were sure there was a fantastic rope swing in the barn?”

“Yeah.”

He stepped away a few paces to the wall, unhooking the wooden seat he’d made and bringing it to the middle of the floor where the long ropes had room to hang straight. Rafe waved his hands over it with a flourish. “Ta-da.”

“That’s not a rope swing,” she pointed out.

“Once we put up the rest of the hay, I’ll hang a real one, and we can try some fancy jumpin’ if you’re still game. But in the meantime”—he patted the seat—“your throne, milady.”

Laurel eyed the wooden seat. “It’s awfully high.”

He’d hung the ropes firmly from the rafters but deliberately tied the seat farther off the ground than usual. “Allow me.”

He closed his hands around her waist, lifting her into the seat as she wrapped her fingers around the ropes. She glanced at him, her sparkling blue eyes nearly in line with his. “You know this is too high for me to get a push off the ground. You’re going to have to help me.”

“Not a problem.” Rafe stepped into position behind her, slipping his hands over hers. “Got a good grip?”

“Yes.Oh…”

Her words faded off into a soft sigh as he pressed his lips to the side of her neck. He leaned his body against her back for a moment, sliding his hands down her arms. Down her sides, finally coming to a rest against her hips.

Heat coiled around them. A slow, gentle simmer he was reluctant to speed up. Not too fast, not too slow…

Whatever history lay between Laurel and Jeff—right now wasn’t about that. This wasn’t about their history, either, his and Laurel’s, even though they had a hundred memories of the past.

He nuzzled the side of her neck, humming happily as he dragged in deep breaths of her scent. “You smell delicious.”

“You swing funny,” she teased, but she tilted her head to the side and presented him with more neck to nibble on.

“I swing perfectly,” he corrected. “Hold on tight.”

Chapter Nine