by Kali Argent
“Oh, cut the bullshit, Cecily.” With a heavy sigh, Rafe turned toward her and rubbed both hands over his face. “Nobody’s buying what you’re trying to sell.”
“Excuse me?” She’d be damned if she’d let anyone talk to her like that, especially in her own home. “Get out.”
“No.”
“Get the hell out, Rafe.”
“No.” Holding his arms out, he took two steps toward her. “Not until you talk to me.”
“I don’t have to tell you anything.” She’d been waiting for the other shoe to drop from day one, but she hadn’t expected it to come quite so soon. “I don’t owe you anything, not even an explanation.”
“No, I guess you don’t, but lucky for you, I’m not asking for one.” He took another two steps, shuffling forward across the beige carpet. “If you’d been listening, you’d realize I didn’t ask you for anything. I just said I wanted to talk. I’ll even let you pick the topic.”
“I don’t want to talk. I just want to be—”
“Alone? Yeah, you’ve said that before, but is that really what you want?”
No one had ever asked her that, not in that context anyway. Oh, she’d been asked why she was alone. Friends had asked her if she was tired of being alone, but they made it sound like some kind of disease. No one had ever questioned if she wanted to be alone, though.
“I don’t mind being alone. Most of the time, I prefer it.” Maybe she had an absurdly low tolerance for drama. Some people called it antisocial. Other people just called her a bitch. Whatever way she looked at it, she definitely didn’t play well with others. “What do you want me to say? You expect me to tell you that my life isn’t complete because I don’t have a husband, two-point-five kids, and a white picket fence? I can’t tell you that.”
“When are you going to understand? I don’t expect anything. You don’t want a relationship? Fine. Kids aren’t your thing? Who cares? If you’re happy with your life, then I’m happy for you.” Three more steps closed the distance between them, bringing Rafe to stand directly in front of her. “Are you happy?”
She could barely hear him over the pounding of her heart, but she refused to retreat. Lifting her head, she set her jaw and fisted her hands on her hips. “I don’t need a man in my life to be happy if that’s what you’re getting at.”
“Why are you always trying to pick a fight?”
In a move too quick to counter, he grabbed her face in both hands, pulled her up on her toes, and slanted their mouths together. She hesitated at first, frozen with shock, but when his tongue caressed the seam of her lips, she couldn’t fight it.
Opening on a breathy sigh, she relaxed into him, pressing her hands to his chest when her head started to spin. He had the softest lips, and he didn’t eat at her mouth like some guys. He kissed her like it mattered, like she was the last woman he would ever kiss. When his hand slid down her arm and around her hips, pressing into the small of her back to hold her closer, she couldn’t stop that moan that rumbled in her throat.
What the hell was she doing? She shouldn’t be kissing him. They’d just been arguing—about what, she couldn’t remember—then he’d kissed her. The details on why were a little fuzzy, but she distinctly remembered being angry.
Fisting her hands in the front of his shirt, she meant to push him away, to tell him to get out and not come back. None of that happened. She just needed one more taste, wanted to feel the heat of his body for just a little while longer. So, instead of shoving him away, she pulled him closer and circled her arms around his neck.
It wasn’t until long moments later when breathing became necessary that she finally broke the kiss. She didn’t move away, though, and Rafe didn’t release her. If anything, he held her more tightly as he lowered his head to rest his forehead against hers.
“You continuously surprise me,” he whispered.
It was a strange compliment, but definitely flattering, so she didn’t question it. “You’re not so bad yourself. Maybe we should try it again. You know, just to make sure we’re compatible.”
With a breathless chuckle, he slid his fingers beneath her chin, tilting her head up for another kiss. Their lips met, slow and languid, gentler this time but no less consuming. Closing her eyes, she swayed against him, moaning as a hunger she’d forgotten existed burned through her.
When the kiss ended, Rafe stroked the side of her throat with his knuckles and smiled. “I’ve wanted to do that since the night I met you.”
Cecily had wanted it as well, even if she hadn’t been able to admit it, not even to herself. “If you’re not careful, Mr. Sorento, I might start to think you like me.”
“Why, Miss Baker, I do believe you’re flirting with me.” He whispered his next words against the shell of her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. “If you aren’t careful, I might start to think you like me back.”
“I won’t tell if you won’t.” Normally, she didn’t have the patience for the do-si-do of flirting and courtship, but with Rafe, he made it easy. “What are your plans today?”
“Actually, I have to swing by the club for a bit. It’s delivery day,” he explained. “It shouldn’t take more than an hour. Maybe we can grab a late lunch when I’m finished?”
Cecily maintained a neutral expression to hide her disappointment. “Yeah, sure, that sounds good. Where do you want to meet?”
“What are you doing right now?”
“Um, nothing really.” She had a project to finish for a client, but it wasn’t due for another two weeks. “Why?”
“Come with me. You’ll get exclusive, backstage access to Electric Mist and all-you-can-eat cheese.”
Pressing her lips together in a thin line to keep herself from laughing, she thought it over for a full two seconds before nodding eagerly. “When you put it like that, how could I possibly refuse?”
“You can’t.” Shaking his head, Rafe adopted a somber expression and a robotic inflection to his voice. “Resistance is futile.”
That did it. Losing the battle, she threw her head back and laughed right from her belly. He could be such a goofball, and it was quickly becoming one of her favorite things about him. Honestly, she couldn’t remember the last time she had laughed so much or so often. Maybe Melissa was right. Perhaps she would keep him.
Composing herself, she plucked at her pink tank top and examined her black yoga pants. “Give me just a minute to change.”
“You look great.” Rafe took her black, sweater jacket off the hook by the door and tossed it to her. “Come on, sweetheart, let’s go.”
If Rafe didn’t care, neither did she. At least she’d put on a bra that morning.
“Fine,” she relented, pulling on the jacket and zipping it halfway, “but I still need shoes.”
“If you must.” He sighed dramatically. “Go ahead. I’ll wait.”
Cecily turned away to hide her smile. The man thought she looked beautiful in old, worn-out pajamas. He admired the work she did, and no matter how bad her day had been, he could always make her laugh. Even when she tried like hell to push him away, he didn’t bend or break. He pushed right back.
Rafe Sorento was different from anyone she’d ever met, and certainly unlike the men she’d dated in the past. If she wasn’t careful, she just might fall in love with him.
CHAPTER SIX
“That’s twelve even.”
Rafe passed a twenty between the front seats to the cab driver. “Keep the change.” Sliding out of the backseat, he waited on the curb for Cecily to join him. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
“You make it sound like we’re going to battle.” She closed the cab door behind her and flipped up the collar of her burgundy peacoat. “It’s just dinner.”
“You obviously don’t know my nieces.” The second week of November had ushered in the coldest temperatures of the season, forcing Rafe to trade in his zippered hoodie for a Sherpa-lined leather jacket. “Trust me, dinner…battle…basically the same thing.” He tucked h
is hands into his pockets to warm them but stuck his elbow out to the side in offering. “Shall we?”
His sister’s place wasn’t much to look at from the outside. The duplex’s brown paint had faded and chipped over the years, giving the entire building a feeling of forlorn and neglect. A rickety swing hung from one side of the wooden porch, the chains rusted and the cushions sun-bleached to a dingy yellow. Plywood covered the door and windows on half the building, suggesting the other unit hadn’t been in use for some time.
Still, it was clean, safe, and most importantly, Annette and the girls didn’t have to share it with twenty other people. He’d had to sell his pickup to afford the deposit and the first month’s rent, but he didn’t regret it for a second. After setting up the utilities and buying a houseful of second-hand furniture, there had even been enough left over for school supplies for his nieces.
Of course, Annette had read him the riot act when she’d found out, but he couldn’t stomach the thought of her and the girls spending even one more night in that women’s shelter. Twice, he’d offered to move them in with him, and twice, Annette had declined.
Glancing at Cecily from the corner of his eye, he had to bite the inside of his cheek to hold back his smile. His sister was proud and stubborn, just like another beautiful woman he knew. Unlike Cecily, however, Annette was a single mom of three. So, every penny she earned went to food, clothing, and child care for her daughters.
The screen door squeaked when he pulled it open, and he made a mental note to bring a can of lubricant for the hinges on his next visit.
“Cooking spray,” Cecily said from his side. “Cheap and effective, and I bet your sister has some in the kitchen.”
Smiling, he leaned in for a chaste kiss. “Brilliant.”
Her cheeks stained visibly in the dim porch light. “Yeah, well—”
Whatever she might have said was interrupted when the main door opened to the screams of bouncing, giggling girls.
“Uncle Rafe! Uncle Rafe! Do you like my new dress?” Maria, the middle girl, had just turned six the previous week, and all things in her world revolved around frilly dresses and pretty hairbows.
“Uncle Rafe, I got a 100 on my spelling test today!” The oldest, Angie, brandished a sheet of paper at him with a clearly marked, red A at the top. She was undoubtedly the smartest kid in her fourth-grade class.
His youngest niece, Sophie, bypassed him completely and ran straight to Cecily. “Hi.” Her little smile lit up her entire face. “I’m this many,” she declared, holding up four fingers. “Do you want to play dolls? I’ll let you be the pretty one.”
Laughing, Rafe swept the brat into his arms and placed a smacking kiss on her cheek. “Okay, okay, back up so we can get in the door.” Once inside with the door closed and locked behind them, he scanned the living room for his sister. “Where’s your mom?”
“In the kitchen,” Maria answered as she twirled in circles that made her dress fan around her. Then, she stopped abruptly and stared up at Cecily. “I’m Maria. What’s your name?”
If Cecily was put off by the noise level in the room, she didn’t show it. Grinning, she crouched down on the floor and offered her hand. “I’m Cecily. It’s very nice to meet you, Maria. I like your dress.”
“It’s new.” Maria squeezed Cecily’s hand with a quiet giggle. “Are you Uncle Rafe’s girlfriend?”
Rafe could have intervened, but he said nothing. He really wanted to know the answer to that one himself.
“Yes.” Only the briefest hesitation. “I guess I am.”
“Are you going to get married?” Angie asked, and she sounded almost accusatory about it.
Cecily, however, didn’t even blink. “Not today.” Pushing to her feet, she offered her hand again. “You must be Angie. Your uncle has told me a lot about you.”
Angie stared at her hand for a few, uncomfortable seconds, then turned and walked away. “I’m going to tell Mom you’re here.”
“Angela Russo,” Rafe chastised. She’d been different in the year since her father had died, but he’d never seen her behave so rudely. “Get back here and apologize right now.”
A hand landed on his elbow, and when he looked down, Cecily shook her head. “Let her go.”
Oblivious to the sudden tension, Sophie squirmed in Rafe’s arms as she shoved her hand toward Cecily. “Hi. I’m Sophie.”
“Hello, Sophie.” Cecily took her tiny hand and shook it properly. “Did you say something about dolls? Do you have any Barbies?”
Sophie nodded enthusiastically, making her brown bob bounce around her face. “Uncle Rafe, put me down.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he answered with a chuckle as he placed her on her feet.
“Come on.” Grabbing Cecily’s hand, Sophie began pulling her deeper into the room. “I’ll show you.”
“Sophie, at least let the lady take off her coat.” Dressed in a loose-fitting, green dress that reached down to the tops of her bare feet, Annette swept into the living room with a gracious smile. “Hello, Cecily. I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Likewise,” Cecily answered, extending her hand yet again. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”
Annette glanced at the offered hand but ignored it to pull Cecily into a crushing hug. “Welcome.” She released her, only to look her up and down with an appraising eye. “Don’t let these heathens bully you. If it gets to be too much, just let me know.”
“Not a problem. I have a little experience with precocious little girls. I pretty much raised my baby sister.”
This was news to Rafe. “I didn’t know that.”
“Where on Earth were your parents?” Annette demanded, utterly appalled at the prospect.
“Nettie,” Rafe warned.
Cecily waved him away. “It’s okay. Our dad died when Melissa was two. I’d just turned sixteen. Our mom started drinking after that, and things got pretty bad. By the time I graduated, Mom was either drunk or passed out all the time.”
“No one called CPS?”
A sad smile curved Cecily’s lips as she nodded at Annette. “They did. I was already eighteen, but they wanted to take Melissa. By some miracle, they granted me custody instead.”
Rafe felt humbled, and he’d never admired her more. It also explained why her relationship with her sister was more like mother and daughter rather than siblings. “Is your mom sober now?”
Her smile brightened several degrees. “Yes. Seven years now.”
Annette wiped at her eyes, then pulled her shoulders back and mirrored Cecily’s grin. “Okay, well, let’s get you fed.”
“Come on!” Sophie insisted, pulling at Cecily’s wrist again. “You can sit by me.”
“And me!” Maria added, grabbing Cecily’s other hand. “Do you like spaghetti? It’s my favorite!”
Rafe stood rooted in place, his heart filled to bursting.
“I like her,” Annette whispered when Cecily disappeared into the kitchen with the girls.
“I like her, too.” He more than liked her. “I’m going to marry that girl, Nettie.”
“Oh?” Annette chuckled, leaning sideways to bump her shoulder against his arm. “Does she know that?”
“Not yet.”
He knew Cecily wasn’t ready to hear a declaration of love, let alone a marriage proposal, but it didn’t change how he felt. There was time, and he’d wait as long as it took.
~
Dinner had been an animated affair with lots of conversation and laughter. Cecily didn’t necessarily want kids of her own—in her mind, she’d already raised one, and that was more than enough—but spending time with Rafe’s nieces brought back a lot of memories of when Melissa had been that age.
She did miss it…just a little.
Maria and Sophie kept up a constant stream of chatter, but Angie barely spoke throughout the meal. She certainly went out of her way not to talk to Cecily. Twice, she’d been reprimanded for her behavior, but Cecily didn’t take it personally.
Angie was
still grieving from the loss of her father, as well as the subsequent changes that had happened in her life after his death. Rafe couldn’t replace her dad, but he’d certainly stepped in to fill that void. Now, he was spending time with someone new, threatening that very fragile balance.
“Miss Cecily?”
“Hmm?” Coming out of her thoughts, she blinked several times at Maria. “What is it, sweetheart?”
“Your phone is ringing.”
“Oh.” Sure enough, she could feel the vibration of it inside the pocket of her jeans. “I guess it is. One second, kiddo.” Leaning back on the sofa, she dug her phone out and frowned at the screen before answering the call. “Melissa?”
“He broke up with me,” her sister sobbed over the line. “Daniel dumped me!”
Cecily couldn’t exactly be sorry that he was out of Melissa’s life, but she hated that the idiot had hurt her sister. “I’m so sorry, baby. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
“No, no.” There was a long pause, presumably while Melissa pulled herself together. “I shouldn’t have called. I’m sorry I interrupted your dinner.”
“Stop it. I’m glad you called me.” No matter her feelings on the situation, there wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do for her sister. “I’m always going to be here for you, Mel. You know that.”
“I know.”
“Now, do you want me to come home?”
“No.” She sniffled again. “I’m okay.” Her voice cracked. “I don’t know why I called.”
Cecily’s lips twitched at the corners. “Make some popcorn and pick a movie. I’ll be home soon.”
“Okay.” The relief in her voice was nearly palpable. “Thank you.”
“Anytime. I love you.”
“I love you, too, Cecily. You’re a good sister.”
She found two sets of big, brown eyes staring up at her when she disconnected the call. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”
“You can’t go,” Maria whined.
“I have to.” Gently, she tucked a dark curl behind the little girl’s ear. “My sister needs me. If your sister was sad, you’d want to help her, wouldn’t you?”
