“What did you say to your cousin?”

“None of your business.”

“Chill, Rambo. On another note…” Harper walked past Sam and into the kitchen.

He hated that he watched her ass as she went. What the hell was with her walk anyhow? She didn’t slink or sashay exactly. It wasn’t overt. Just a gentle sway of the hips, just enough to mesmerize him. Cursing his randy reaction, Sam followed. “On another note, what?” he asked, almost tripping on a puddle of red dress near the threshold.

Wearing nothing but a matching silky bra and thong, Harper lounged against the counter in her funky heels, holding a white cupcake in a red foiled baking cup. “Why won’t you try my cupcakes?”

“What?”

“I sent you home with almost a dozen the other day. You didn’t try one. I baked these fresh for tonight. Everyone in the club had one. Everyone but you.”

“I wasn’t hungry.” Sam’s heart rammed against his chest, his cock throbbed. He wasn’t sure why he’d avoided Harper’s cupcakes. Something psychological. He hadn’t given it thought. He would now.

Harper’s blue eyes twinkled with an ornery gleam.

Sam knew that gleam. She was about to torture him with some sexy deed.

Sure enough she stuck her thumb in the center of the strawberry filled cupcake. Gaze locked on Sam’s, she licked then sensuously sucked the red goo from her thumb. One brow raised, she taunted, “Hungry now?”

Sam was randy and moody and not up for games. He moved in—swift and sure. He took Harper in his arms and ravished that luscious mouth. Sin and strawberries. Hell, yeah.

Her hands worked his belt and buttoned fly while he unclasped her bra. He had her naked and writhing in his arms, kissing her, touching her, just rough enough to rev her senses.

Her damn phone rang. Incessantly.

Sam broke the wild kiss long enough to toss the cell on the top shelf of the fridge. Slamming shut the door, he spun Harper around, bending her over the counter. He splayed his hands down her back, over her ass, her thighs. He kissed the back of her neck, made her sigh, then entered her from behind, and made her squeal.

It was hot.

It was fast.

And it left them both limp and gasping for air.

In the aftermath, Sam was shocked that he’d been so urgent, so selfishly dominant. But when Harper smiled over her shoulder at him, the guilt slid away. He started to speak, but she shushed him.

Right. No talking after.

Screw that.

“What was that for?” he asked as she stepped back into her dress, no undies.

“I was wound up. Also I sensed you could use a distraction.”

With that she shoved her tousled hair out of that beautiful face, grabbed her phone from the fridge, and cast him a parting, enigmatic glance. “See you tomorrow, Sam.”

THIRTY-TWO

Luke had never asked a girl to sleep over in his house. Let alone sleep over every night for, well, hopefully the rest of their lives.

After putting in a full night bartending and hosting at the Shack, he’d returned home around two in the morning to find Rae fast asleep in his bed. She was bathed in a soft wash of moonlight and he could see just enough of her face to know she was sleeping peacefully. She looked content. He liked that a lot. Sam’s words had been ringing in Luke’s ears all night.

“I wish you the happiness I had.”

Just thinking about it choked Luke up. Sam’s years with Paula had been the happiest of his cousin’s life. What’s more, the wish had been sincere.

Luke had climbed into bed with Rae, knowing he’d turned a corner in his life. There was no going back. He’d had a hard time getting his mind to shut down. A lot of unsettled issues. The thing with her mom. The beef with Geoffrey, something Luke still wasn’t clear on. Sugar Tots would require a lot of Rae’s time and Luke would be taking on new challenges at the Shack. They’d have to settle into a new routine, somehow juggle their professional and personal lives. He knew he had to attack his dyslexia in a new way. Learning to conquer rather than cover. He wanted to be able to read stories to his kid without stumbling. He wanted to handle the books and inventory at the Shack without having to rely on Dev or Anna.

He wanted to make Rae proud.

Luke drifted off fully expecting to wake up in a panic.

He woke up with Rae in his arms. He woke up content. “How long have you been awake?” he asked.

“A while.”

“Why are you smiling?”

“I’m happy. I don’t remember ever being this happy.”

Luke kissed her forehead. “I’m glad.” He glanced at the bedside clock. “Damn. It’s late. What time did Harper say that film crew would be at Moose-a-lotta?”

“Noon.”

“We best get cracking. You shower and dress and I’ll start breakfast. Craving anything special?”

She smiled and his heart jerked. God, he loved that.

“Pancakes,” she said. “With lots of butter and a ton of maple syrup.”

“You got it, Champ.”

She scrunched her brow. “Why do you call me that?”

“Because when life knocks you down, you get back in there swinging. Sam was right. You’re a warrior at heart, Rae. I admire you for that.”

“Thank you, Luke.” She flushed then and bit her lower lip. “I hope I don’t get knocked out today in that interview. I’ve never done well in the spotlight.”

“You’ll be fine. Harper’s going to coach you beforehand and you’ll have a huge cheering section watching from the sidelines. This mess will be behind us before you know it.”

She nodded and swung out of bed. “That’s incentive enough to kick this Champ in the butt. Meet you downstairs. I won’t be long.”

“You look cute in my T-shirt,” he said as she padded toward the bathroom.

She grinned. “I may never wear my pjs again.”

“Speaking of,” Luke said as he pulled on a pair of sweats. “I slid by the Pine and Periwinkle late last night like we talked about and I gathered all of your things.” He nodded across the room. “Your laptop and suitcases are over there. Be warned. I’m not a neat packer.”

She did a one-eighty and hustled over, thanking him with a brush of her lips. “I don’t care about neat.”

He thought about his overall housekeeping skills. “Remember you said that.”

Twenty minutes later, Luke was adding a sixth flapjack to a serving plate when he heard a knock on the door. He wasn’t expecting anyone. Wary of paparazzi, he peeked out a window before answering and was surprised to see his mom and dad standing on his front porch.

Frowning, he swung open the door. “You okay?”

“What kind of greeting is that?” Jerome asked while guiding Kaye inside just ahead of him.

“We wanted to meet Rae before this afternoon’s filming,” Kaye said as she shook off a chill. “To wish her luck.”

“To tell her the family’s behind her one hundred percent.”

Luke dragged a hand through his hair, his chest swelling with emotion. “That’s great. That’s … I appreciate it,” he said while taking his parents’ coats and scarves. “I just wish you would have called first.”

“Why?”

“So I could have prepared Rae. She’s nervous about meeting you.”

“Why?” Kaye asked.

While hanging the coats on the tree stand, Luke heard Rae galloping down the stairs. Damn.

“Luke! Help! Fashion crisis. I should know what color looks best on TV but I can’t remember. I don’t know which blouse would be best. I need…” She skidded to a stop in a skirt and her bra. “… your opinion.” Red-faced, she crushed the two shirts she’d been holding at her side to her chest. “Hi.”

Suppressing a smile, Luke placed his hand at the small of her back. “Rae, I’d like you to meet my parents. Jerome and Kaye Monroe.”

Juggling the crumpled shirts to strategically hide her bra, she offered a hand in greeting. “Pleased to meet you. So sorry for my … disarray.”

“I read somewhere that you should avoid pastels,” Jerome said. “I’d go with that purple shirt.”

“It’s not purple,” Kaye said. “It’s eggplant and it does go nicely with your red hair, Rae.”

Luke nodded. “I like the purple.”

“Your mom’s right,” Rae said. “It’s more eggplant. I do have a couple of other choices.”

“If you’d like a woman’s opinion, dear, I’d be happy to help.”

Rae smiled, looking a little flustered but pleased. “Okay. Thank you.” She backed away, still clutching the shirts to her chest until Kaye spun her and shielded her with her body as they climbed the steps.

Luke cleared his throat. “You’re staring, Dad.”

“Lovely girl.”

“Yes, she is. Inside and out.”

“Those pancakes I smell?”

Luke blinked at a man who’d lost several pounds over the last few months due to treatments and a loss of appetite. “You hungry?”

Jerome unbuttoned his wool coat. “I am.”

If this was the sign of the day to come, Luke thought, we’re in for a great one.

* * *

Rae knew there would be paparazzi on top of the film crew. She expected a few reporters, some local, some freelance. But she wasn’t quite prepared for the circus that awaited. At least three TV news trucks were parked along the street. Photographers were huddled outside of Moose-a-lotta, smoking cigarettes, drinking coffee, and trying to keep warm on a day when the temperature had yet to clear the teens. Then there were the curiosity seekers.

“Harper said it was pretty intense when she called a few minutes ago,” Rae said. “but she didn’t mention spectators. I don’t understand. It’s not like I’m famous.”

“But your mother is,” Luke said. “And this war she’s got going with you made national gossip rags.”