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His lips curve beneath mine. “So sure of me?”
“Oh, yes.” I turn within his embrace, the photo album forgotten. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pull him down to me. “You are the heart of this town and always stick to what’s right, even when the people here turned their backs on you. Anyone else would have become bitter, but you just keep putting everyone else’s happiness ahead of your own. If you were going to turn bad, it would have happened a long time ago.”
“I’m no saint, Rowe.” His head dips, his nose rubbing against mine. “I have dark thoughts. I get angry.”
“Of course, you do. You’re human.” I rise onto my toes. “But you’ll never be bad.”
Love shimmers in his eyes. “How can I when you believe in me so much?”
His mouth settles over mine in a gentle, unhurried kiss that slowly blooms, our lips opening, breaths mingling. When his tongue sweeps across my bottom lip, my breath catches, and I open wider, welcoming him inside.
With languid strokes, he stokes a fire inside me that grows as my pulse quickens and my heart races.
His hands drop to my hips, his fingers spreading to knead my ass, and his head lifts. “Do you hear that?”
I rise higher on my toes to nibble at his chin. “Hear what?”
He peers up at the ceiling and smiles. “The rain stopped.”
“Who cares about the rain?” I grab his cheeks and bring his face down to mine. “Back to the kissing, Owen Hartford.”
A smile spreads over his lips before they return to mine, and his hands tighten on my ass, lifting me until the toes of my shoes scrape the floor. He walks me backward until a large box presses against the back of my thighs, and he boosts me onto it, then steps between my thighs.
The hard ridge of his cock presses against my core, and my inner muscles clench with the desire to be filled.
His mouth leaves mine to trail kisses down my throat. Pleasure tingles down my body, tightening my nipples and bringing liquid desire to where our bodies press together.
I let my head fall back to give him better access as I wrap my legs around his waist, needing his body against mine.
His hands slip under my sweatshirt, his fingers tracing up my sides to dance along my ribs, teasing as they graze the undersides of my breasts.
A knock echoes through the house from the front door, and Owen’s head lifts, his hands freezing.
I tighten my arms and legs around him. “Just ignore it.”
“It could be important.” He rests his forehead against mine, his breathing fast. “Something could have happened in town.”
I moan with disappointment. “Why are you such a good person?”
“That’s what you love about me.” With a final, chaste kiss, he escapes my hold and adjusts himself before heading toward the open hatch that leads to my bedroom.
Left panting with thwarted desire, I slide off the box. Should I just wait for him to come back so we can pick up where we stopped?
I take in the partially strung lights, the weird shadows they cast in the attic, and hurry after him. We can finish what we started somewhere else.
The knock sounds again as we reach the stairs.
Owen quickens his stride. “Be right there!”
Who could be knocking in the middle of the day?
Apprehension tightens my gut, and I hurry to close the distance that Owen’s longer legs put between us. “Check out the window before you open the door.”
He pauses with his hand on the knob to glance back at me in confusion. “Why?”
“We don’t know who’s on the other side,” I insist. “It could be the killer.”
He swings the door open. “It’s just Aspen.”
