“You are in
“Guilt,” Lily admitted. “I knew you’d yell at me if I told you what I was up to.”
“Of course I’m going to yell at you.” Cate adjusted the phone, said something to Harm-her good-looking groom-informing him that a girl had priorities. Sex was an important second. But sisters came first. “Now-where are you? And I don’t want to hear that you’re spending your whole teacher summer doing stupid stuff like jewelry parties and gardening and volunteering endless hours for some godforsaken cause. I want to hear that you’re up to no good. With a man. Preferably a bad boy kind of man. Preferably-”
“Yup,” Lily said peaceably. “I’m doing exactly that.”
The silence between Alaska and Georgia was abruptly deafening.
“For years now, you two have been urging me to strip off the teacher clothes, quit being nice, quit dating safe guys. So I took your advice-”
Cate, in a crisis, didn’t fool around. She cut through the drivel. “Where are you? I can get the next plane out.”
Lily smiled into the receiver, but then got serious. “I’m in Pecan Valley, Cate. I’m looking into our fire. Or trying to. I know we’ve talked about this a zillion times, that we need to put the fire behind us, take charge of our lives. Only you and Sophie have done that. And somehow I haven’t been able to.”
“Wait. Honey. Wait. If we knew you wanted to do this-or needed to do this-the three of us could have found some time to come together, go there together-”
“No. You’d both have tried to talk me out of it.” Lily snuggled up tighter in the blanket, leaned her head back. “I never thought Dad started that fire. We all repeated the things we were told. That he loved us, but he was desperate, not in his right mind-all that. But I never believed it, Cate. Every time I’m with a guy…I’m thinking of dad. How much I loved him. How perfect we all thought he was. How good. And that if he set that fire, maybe I can’t judge
“You are, Lily. But I hate the idea of you doing this alone. And what about this man you mentioned?”
Lily heard her brother-in-law’s voice in the background, and figured she’d interrupted enough. “Cate, I’ll talk to you in another couple days, promise. Don’t worry. Everything’s fine. Give Harm a big hug from me. Love you.”
She switched off her cell, thinking she’d prowl around Griff’s place one last time, make sure all the doors were locked, make sure he was sleeping, make one more run to the bathroom.
That was the plan. But the last thing she remembered was snuggling just a moment longer in the blanket. It wasn’t as good as Griff’s arms around her, but thinking about Griff set off a chain reaction of dreams.
Chapter 5
Griff awoke with his heart pounding, the threatening smell and heat of fire invading nightmare after nightmare. Immediately, of course, he was fine. His bedroom was familiar, dark and cool and safe. And his bed damned lonely.
He vaguely remembered Lily bossing him around, bullying him into the shower, absconding with his clothes, ordering him into bed. He couldn’t recall ever being so offended…male-ego offended. The bossiness had charmed him. But then, she didn’t even seem to notice when he was naked in the shower, and later tucked the covers around his neck as if he were a boy instead of the sexiest man she'd ever seen in her life.
It was enough-almost-to destroy a guy’s confidence.
The bedside digital claimed it was 3:00 a.m. He’d only slept two hours, was still groggy with exhaustion. Still, he pushed off the covers, swung his feet to the floor. First thing in the morning, he needed to devote 100% effort to the fire and all the fire’s complications. But right now there wasn’t a prayer he could get any further rest without knowing where Lily was.
She could have gone home of course, just taken his car. That would have been a no-sweat. And when he checked the spare bedroom, the couches, and didn’t find her, he thought she’d had the brains to do that-but no. The bunched-up blanket in his favorite recliner had a body swallowed in it. He had no idea how she’d managed to curl herself into that small a ball-much less how she’d escaped being smothered.
When he peeled back the edge of the blanket, he found the gleam of her dark hair in the moonlight. But she didn’t awaken. He scooped her up, blanket and all. That didn’t awaken her either. Her cheek nuzzled against his shoulder, as if she’d been sleeping against him her whole life.
Halfway through the hall, he almost tripped because part of the blanket slipped, tangled with his bare foot. But he managed to compensate, pushed against a wall-none of that commotion woke her either-and finally made it to the bed.
He dropped her on his side, his pillow, and when the last of the blanket slipped away, realized she was still wearing clothes. He hesitated. This wasn’t about seduction, it was about…something else. Showing her that he didn’t need taking care of. Showing her that he could take care of
His body went bone hard the minute his skin touched hers-that was neither a surprise nor remotely strange. But somehow, just the act of wrapping his arms around her, her just being there with him, felt crazily, insanely right. In spite of the fire and all the troubling questions threatened by that attack of arson, he was able to forget it, really close his eyes this time, and zone out completely.
Lily woke to the soak of sunlight on her closed eyelids, her body all cuddled in a nest-warm cocoon-and the erotic, rhythmic stroke of a thumb on her shoulder.
A man’s thumb.
Her eyes popped open. In her immediate vision was a bunched-up blanket, a shoe twice her size, a shirt she could have used for a tent and a wide window overlooking a steep, green hillside. Only strips of sunlight made it through the tangled thatch of trees, but the verdant spice of pine scented everything. A bird suddenly landed on the windowsill-gorgeous, bright blue in color, an indigo bunting, she was pretty sure. It cocked its head, looked at her as if to say, “what on earth are you doing in his bed, you crazy woman?”
And still, that thumb kept stroking.
She knew perfectly well where she was. Griff’s. But she could have sworn she’d fallen asleep in his living room chair. A thousand unexpected sensations all seemed to require her immediate analysis. His bristly chest hair against her back. The weight of his hand. The width of his hips, spooning against her bottom. The hardness of his erection. The size of his erection. The throbbing warmth of his erection.
She strongly suspected that she wasn’t the only one awake. Not that she was willing to turn around and face him yet.
“I have to think up a strategy,” she murmured, and he picked it up as if they were in the middle of a conversation.
“For how you’re going to go back to the B and B?”
“Exactly. If I were back in Virginia, it wouldn’t matter. I’m an adult. Everyone around me is adult. But here… Louella’s going to grill me as if I were ten years old, the instant I walk in the door. Being absent for a night is one thing, but if I also walk in wearing yesterday’s clothes…” She lifted the sheet. “Uh-oh. I seem to be to be missing some of yesterday’s clothes. Something happened to my capris.”
“I was helping you.” Griff’s voice was still husky with sleep.
“Uh-huh. I’ll bet you say that to all the girls.”
“Lily.”
“Hmm?”
“I don’t say that to all the girls. In fact, there’s a giant list of things that I plan to say and do with you. That I’ve
