Chapter Thirteen #3
He unhooked the leashes from their collars, removed his hat and walked across the hardwood floor to the kitchen to brew another steaming cup of coffee.
The rich aroma of dark roast filled the air just as Skylar entered, dressed in a cable-knit azure sweater that made her eyes shimmer like sapphires against her porcelain skin.
Her faded jeans hugged her curves, ending at scuffed brown cowboy boots that clicked softly with each step.
Her hair cascaded in loose waves past her shoulders, and Rawley felt his heart stutter.
She was the most breathtaking woman he’d ever laid eyes on, and he knew he was falling hard and fast, but the thought didn’t frighten him.
Her presence in his life felt as natural as breathing.
He just had to solve this case before pursuing anything deeper, but he couldn’t deny his growing feelings. The thought of not having her in his life left an emptiness he couldn’t bear to contemplate.
Rawley smiled as she glided toward him, slipping her arms around his waist. She rose on her toes, her vanilla scent intoxicating as she pressed her soft lips against his.
He pulled her against his chest, feeling the rapid beat of her heart matching his own as he deepened the kiss.
She moaned softly, the sound sending heat coursing through him before he reluctantly broke away.
“You never showed me what you could do with a cherry stem,” he murmured with a grin.
She pulled back from him; her lips still flushed from their kiss and walked to the gleaming stainless-steel fridge.
The cool air wafted out as she reached inside, emerging with a small jar of plump maraschino cherries, their vivid red color almost artificial against the morning light filtering through the kitchen blinds.
He chuckled, as he watched her nimble fingers twist open the lid with a soft pop.
She selected a perfect cherry, its stem intact, the syrup dripping back into the jar in slow, sweet droplets.
“Are you sure you want to see this?” she asked, her voice teasing, eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Why not?” He raised an eyebrow and smirked.
“Well, if you like it too much, there’s nothing we can do about it right now. You might have to wait until we get back from riding.” Her cheeks colored slightly with the implication.
Rawley narrowed his eyes. “You think it will make me hot?”
“Maybe.”
“Sweetheart, you make me hot anytime I look at you.”
“You say the sweetest things.” She smiled, brushing her hair over her shoulders.
“I mean it. I always say what I mean and mean what I say. You should know that by now.” His gaze held hers, steady and sincere.
“I do. Okay.”
With deliberate slowness, she placed the glossy cherry between her lips, tugging it from the stem with a gentle pull.
She chewed, then swallowed before slipping the slender stem into her mouth.
He watched, transfixed, as her jaw worked delicately, her eyes never leaving his.
After a moment, she pulled the stem out, revealing the stem perfectly tied into a neat knot.
“Son of a bitch,” he muttered.
Skylar laughed. “I did warn you.”
Rawley pulled her into his arms, the heat of her body enveloping him as he kissed her lips, tasting the lingering sweetness of cherry. He slowly lifted his mouth from hers, their lips clinging together like they couldn’t bear to part.
“Do you want to have breakfast or wait until we get back to my house?”
“I’m not really hungry. I could make you something though.” She traced the outline of his jaw with her fingertip.
“I’m fine. Let’s go then.” He glanced around the kitchen. “Come on guys,” he called, then chuckled when they ran into the room, nails clicking against the tile floor, and sat obediently at his feet, tails sweeping across the floor.
“They are so well behaved.” She knelt to scratch behind a velvety ear.
“Border collies are one of the smartest dogs there are with Australian shepherds right behind them.”
“Oh, I love Aussies. They are so pretty.”
“A friend of mine used to raise them, but he stopped doing it years ago.” He leaned against the counter; arms crossed over his chest.
“Why?”
“It can get expensive raising purebred dogs. You have to register the litter, get all the shots for them before selling. Gabe did it for years, pouring his heart into each litter, plus he sells horses for tie-down competitions.”
“Gabe?” Her head tilted in question.
“Gabe Stone.”
“I don’t know him.” She shook her head, causing her hair to catch the light.
“He’s a good man who loves his wife and family.”
“Maybe one day I’ll meet them.”
“Stick around and you’ll probably run into them eventually.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“I’m happy to hear that.”
They stared at each other, the air between them charged with unspoken possibilities, until Rawley looked down at his feet to see Cosmo winding his way around his legs, fur brushing against denim in silent feline impatience.
“I feel like I’ve been ignoring him,” Skylar said.
“You can bring him to my house.”
“He would have to have a litter box. The one I have is self-cleaning.”
“Well, we’ll just have to get one for my place.” Rawley pulled her back into his arm. “I want this to keep going, so we need to get one. I’d love for you to stay with me on weekends.”
“I’d love that.”
“Tonight?”
“Yes.”
He gave her a quick kiss, then waited for her to gather her things, and they stepped onto the porch.
Skylar gasped as snowflakes stung her cheeks like tiny needles of ice. The sky hung low and heavy, a blanket of gray stretched across the horizon, spitting crystalline flakes that swirled and danced in the wind.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Her breath clouded in front of her face, dissipating into the frigid air.
Rawley looked at her. “You don’t want to go?”
“What if I can’t get back? I can’t leave Cosmo alone for too long. He might be a pain in the ass, but I love him and hate leaving him.” She tugged her woolen scarf tighter around her neck.
“I’ll get you home. I’m used to this. I’ve made it to work when it was a lot more than this. My truck is four-wheel drive.”
“Alright. I trust you.”
Rawley grinned. “Good. Let’s get going.”
They trudged through the ankle-deep snow toward the truck, their boots crunching with each step. Rawley opened the back door for the dogs, who bound inside, bringing with them the smell of wet fur. She made her way to the passenger side; fingers numb as she yanked open the door and climbed in.
Rawley slid into the cab. The leather seats were cold enough to bite through his jeans. He turned to her and raised an eyebrow.
“I could have gotten the door for you.”
“It’s too cold. Besides, I’m very capable of opening a door.” She smiled.
Rawley grinned and winked, then started the truck and drove to his place.