Page 9 of Rocky Mountain Devil

Two could play the innocent game.

Trevor demanded her attention, cocky smile in place as he held forward theWinnie the Poohbooks she’d found for him. “No problem. Can you help me check these out, first?”

It was as good an excuse as any. She snatched them from his hand along with his library card then all but ran to escape. Behind her, the guys spoke a little more, but quietly enough she didn’t need to kick into librarian-police mode, which was good because she probably would’ve burst out laughing.

Rafe walked out without saying goodbye, which was also a good thing. It let her keep her cool while explaining something inane about how to get a library card to Trevor.

By the time he left her cheeks were cramping from holding back her laughter.

Luckily, Wendy came back on shift right then. Laurel grabbed the shelving cart and fled to the back of the room, hiding in the farthest corner of the library where tall windows stretched from floor to ceiling. She pressed her face against the cool glass in the hopes it would lower her temperature.

It had been three years and she’d never forgotten what he’d said.

Never forgotten what they’ddone.

Fortunately, some of the items on the cart actually belonged in that corner of the library, so she wasn’t completely wasting time as she forced herself to concentrate and accomplish some work. All afternoon she kept waiting for Rafe to return, and being thankful when he didn’t.

She left at five o’clock sharp, slipping into her little car and taking the first full breath she’d gotten since spotting him.

Tucked under her windshield wiper was a folded note.

So much for breathing. She jerked open the door and grabbed the note, ripping it open.

Do you want to build a racetrack?

She headed to the schoolyard, heart pounding.

Rafe sat at a picnic table on the edge of the playground. He’d rested his elbows on the tabletop as he stretched his long, jean-clad legs in front of him. She took her time walking across the field to appreciate the view, from the sturdy cowboy boots all the way up to his hair that stuck out slightly from underneath his cowboy hat.

He needed a haircut.

Or maybe not. The slightly ragged length looked good. It fit, and it fit the rest of him as well as she continued admiring him.

Since she’d left, the boy had become a man. The muscles pressing the sleeves of his T-shirt were far more solid. His face had matured to sharper angles, his high cheekbones and square jaw just that much more defined now that he’d moved into his twenties.

The expression in his eyes was the same as she remembered, though. Hell-bent on mischief, and one hundred percent on her side.

Laurel came to a stop a few feet from the table. She didn’t quite know where to put her hands. “I missed you.”

He rose instantly, not one bit hesitant about where to put his hands. He wrapped her in a big hug, lifting her off her feet as he swung in a wild circle. His hat tipped off backward as he buried his face in her neck and squeezed her close.

She clung to him tightly, wondering how this could feel so much like coming home and still like the beginning.

He lowered her to the ground, leading her to the picnic table to sit. “Couldn’t believe it when I heard you were back.”

“And I can’t believe that nobody stopped in to tell me everything about you,” she returned, crawling up on the tabletop. “I figured the minute I hit town, the entire Coleman clan would be in my back pocket, giving me the rundown on everything you’ve been up to for the last three years.”

Rafe shrugged. “I don’t think anybody except your family, my mom, and the people we went to school with really remember we were that close.”

“That makes no sense. The sheer amount of time we spent in the detention room together means somebody should’ve noticed.”

He laughed. “Yeah, but we’re younger. Nobody looks that direction. They were all focused on their own stuff and the people they’re chasing.” He ignored the rude noise she made. “You know I’m right. It’s like hiding shit in plain sight, or above people’s heads. Heck, by the time we hit junior high most of my extended family had graduated, and they didn’t give a damn about what was happening back in school. We were two years behind my nearest cousins, Lee and Lisa, and three years behind the Six Pack twins. And compared tothem, we were saints.”

“Still think it’s weird.”

He smiled, stroking his thumb across the back of her hand, and a shiver rolled over her. “Being invisible isn’t a bad thing. It means we get to deal with us on our own timing.”

“Us?” The word came out a little squeaky.