Page 52 of Rocky Mountain Devil
“I’m curious,” she corrected him. “Not the same thing.”
They danced on, Rafe’s hold on her possessive, yet right. It wasn’t about getting turned on, but about being together. Being connected.
They stayed on the floor for nearly an hour before Laurel begged off, making their way outside into the cool fall night.
“I’ll walk you home. When you said you’d be coming straight here from work, and you didn’t have your car, I left my truck outside your apartment.”
Which meant they’d be at her place…
Maybe the night wasn’t over yet.
Chapter Twelve
They held hands and strolled along, chatting about nothing. Laurel soaked in happiness like a sponge.
Rafe let out a contented sigh. “I needed this.”
“Friday night at Traders?”
“Time with you, at Traders or anywhere.” Rafe squeezed her fingers but kept walking. “It’s been a tough week, but the entire time I was thinking about you, and it made it easier to get through the day.”
“That’s sweet.” The warm glow in her heart increased. “Anything in particular make the week tougher than usual?”
He hesitated before answering. “Sometimes I get caught up wishing for things I can’t have—and the biggest of them is a father I can look up to.”
Sadness swept over her. “I know, and I’m so sorry.”
“I don’t begrudge you your dad, or Jesse his, or anything like that, but…” He sounded so worried, Laurel tugged him to a stop.
“What? Tell me.”
“What if I end up like Ben?” Rafe held up a hand to ward off her protest. “What if, even though I plan to do things differently, I turn out like him? I’ve got him inside me, and I’ve grown up with him around, and even if I want to make different choices, they say we become our parents.”
Laurel thought for a moment. Of all the things for Rafe to worry about, becoming his father was not on the list. Not as far as she was concerned. “Gabe isn’t like him, and he’s got the same blood as you.”
Rafe made a rude noise. “My brother is a way better man than me. He’s walked away from trouble far more often than I ever have.”
“Yeah, because you’re totally out there, brawling the nights away,” Laurel teased. “Not to make light of your concerns, but do you really think you’re some kind of town bad boy?”
“No, but—” He made a face. “I’m not telling you what I’m most worried about.” Rafe looked away, lowering his voice so much she had to listen carefully to hear. “He gets me so mad I literally see red. I want to hit him, and keep hitting him until he learns a lesson. Feeling that kind of rage scares the shit out of me. What if I go too far?”
“But you don’t.” Laurel curled her arms around him. “Even when you’re absolutely furious with him, and I know that’s happened before, even then you don’t act on it. You don’t knock his head off, and you don’t let his anger overwhelm you.”
“So far.”
She nodded, linking her hands together behind his back, and letting her body press against his, warm and soothing. “Because you’ve decided that’s not you. You made the choice, and that’s what makes you who you are. I think you can trust yourself. The Rafe I know is a pretty good guy. Even-tempered. Cool. I’ve hung out with him a time or two—and I like him. I trust him.”
He tucked his fingers under her chin. “I never want to break that trust.”
“Then don’t. Keep trying. That’s as much as we can do…our best.”
He kissed her and she leaned into it, accepting the contentment pouring from him.
“You make me a better man,” Rafe said.
Laurel snorted without intending to break the serious moment, because his comment was too funny to ignore. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s not what Mr. Taylor said back in seventh grade. I think he said something to effect of ‘Miss Sitko seems determined to ruin your chance to excel in this math class.’”
“God, how can you remember these things?”
