mock sarcasm, chuckling as they went inside. “So,” he said, following her into the kitchen and noticing the blankets still thrown over the living-room sofa where her friend must have stayed. “What kind of crisis did your friend have?”
“Oh, it’s with her love life, but unfortunately it could also mean trouble for Second Chance.”
He frowned as her voice broke on the last, and he realized she’d stopped unpacking things from the bags.
“You okay?”
She shook her head. “Sorry. I’m worried about the shelter. Pam has some potentially serious trouble, and I want to help. Maybe I could pass some thoughts by you, get your take?”
Rafe was surprised, and flattered. “Sure. Go ahead.”
“I want to find a way to offset the rumors circulating about the place—undeservedly—maybe some sort of event to show people how much good Pam does for the local community.”
Rafe took over unpacking the groceries, leaving items on the counter and said, “Why don’t you tell me what the problem is?”
Joy related most of Pam’s dilemma as succinctly as she could. To her relief, Rafe didn’t particularly see the issue with two consenting adults getting together, regardless of their backgrounds. However, he also knew the world could be far more judgmental, and said so. She warmed to him even more for being so accepting.
“I’ll give you what feedback I can, but it sounds like you’re already on the right track.”
He held out his hand. She took it, and there was a spark of something in her eyes that he liked very much.
No one was more surprised than he was when she launched herself forward into his arms. He was taken off guard, but not about to argue. Joy had a lot of emotion riding under the surface, and he wondered what it would be like when she really let go.
“Hey, I like this,” he teased.
She drew back, looking at him seriously, the way she always did, but her eyes were brighter.
“Thanks, Rafe. It’s nice to have someone to spend the day with, making cookies, bouncing ideas around. I’m so used to being by myself, but I like your company. A lot. The whole thing with Pam, with this guy she likes, well, it has me wondering how much we miss if we worry too much about what other people think.”
“That’s a good point. You have to make decisions that are right for you,” he said in a low tone, his eyes dropping to her mouth.
He knew what a huge step it was for her to be open with him, to share her thoughts and ask his opinion, and the urge to kiss her was killing him. When she didn’t move away, he gave in, dipping forward to taste her lightly, then more deeply until they were winding around each other, breathless. He walked her backward a few steps until she bumped into a chair and lost her footing. Steadying themselves, she laughed and pushed the hair back from her flushed cheeks.
“Maybe we should make those cookies.”
He nodded, his heart pounding from the kiss, his erection straining against his jeans. He could think of better ways to spend the day, but that wasn’t what Joy needed right now.
“Tell me what you want me to do, and I’m yours,” he said, knowing she’d pick up on the not-so-subtle innuendo in his offer. He meant every word.
BY FOUR O’CLOCK, the house was hot from the oven, as well as the sun shining in all day. Cookies surrounded her and Rafe on every side—all surfaces of the kitchen were covered with cooling, decorated or soon-to-be-decorated cookies.
Baking hadn’t been that difficult, really, and it had been fun. They’d worked together easily while brainstorming ideas to help the shelter. Rafe actually was a wonderful sounding board, and he was very creative, and told her what he thought honestly. She was even more excited about her ideas now and couldn’t wait to tell Pam. She felt so good to be doing something, not sitting around worrying.
Joy peeked at Rafe while he stood sprinkling sugar in a very precise, male fashion over a tray of frosted goodies—he was gorgeous, inside and out. He was so easygoing, happy to help. He genuinely seemed to like her company, too. Warmth stole through her, and she bit her lip, watching him. The T-shirt he wore was a little damp from the heat and stuck to his skin, revealing the strong muscles of his back, and she lowered her gaze to other delectable regions.
Rafe might be surrounded by sweets, but he was a sexy confection all by himself. She chuckled out loud, and covered her hand to her lips a moment too late. He turned, looking at her, a dab of green sugar at the corner of his lips.
“What’s so funny?” he asked, unaware.
“You’ve been sampling again,” she accused, her eyes transfixed on the sugar.
Following the direction of her stare, he started to lift his hand to remove the evidence, but she stepped forward, halting him. She shut off her mind and followed her instincts for once. It was about time she started taking some of the opportunities for fun that came her way.
“Let me,” she offered, her heart beating furiously as she slipped a hand behind his neck and lifted up to dart her tongue out and lick the sugar away.
He lasted for two strokes of her tongue against his skin until he pulled her up close with a groan and took over, backing her into the counter and kissing her so hard and so thoroughly that she couldn’t breathe, but air was highly overrated anyway. If she’d thought the temperature was hot in the kitchen before, it was rising by degrees as he kissed her.
“Joy, I want you something fierce,” he murmured in her ear, pressing the promise of his erection against her hip. Tension twisted inside of her, invading the moment—should she?
His hand slipped under the T-shirt she was wearing, finding her breasts, closing and rubbing, plucking and caressing the sensitive tips into hard points against his palm. Oh, my, he knew what he was doing, and her body responded to his dedicated, confident touch.
“You like that? How about this?”
Pulling her shirt off right there in her kitchen, he had her topless before she could object, not that she planned to. It was scandalous—the windows were open; she could hear voices out in the yard where a woman next door visited someone else across the fence. They couldn’t see … but they were there, and she and Rafe were … ohhh.
He suckled her so sweetly she dug her fingers into his hair and she managed to quell her moan to a whimper, lest she be heard through the screen door. When he drew away, lapping her skin with his tongue, she objected with a muted groan.
“Come here,” he said, his eyes wicked as he grasped a bowl of frosting they’d been using for cookies.
She held perfectly still, unbearably aroused as he used the soft spatula to completely frost her breasts. Her skin was so hot she figured the confection would melt right off her skin. Rafe smiled devilishly, reaching for some red cinnamon sprinkles. Her eyes went wide.
“Rafe, what are you doing?”
“Decorating you—you are plenty tasty enough all on your own, but this is fun—isn’t it?” He looked at her intently, and she had no choice but to agree.
“Yes,
