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“Don’t be. I’ll talk to her.” He clapped Josh on the arm, the relief still pulsing through him. “And we’re here for you. Don’t forget that. For as long as it takes. Now go, see Megan.”

Josh disappeared into the darkness, the door slamming shut behind him. Brody ran his hands over his face, the relief still seeping in. Tomorrow he could talk to Josh about the long-­term. He’d call a family meeting and they’d figure it out together. Right after he met the tow truck to haul the broken-­down semi off the side of the logging road. Plus, he needed to sit down with Kat to find out if his brother was officially out of the trial.

And somewhere in there, he should probably tell her that he was falling in love with her. Somewhere between keeping the trucking side of Moore Timber running, taking every search and rescue mission that came his way, and looking out for his family, he needed to ask Kat to stay. Because any way he looked at their relationship, she was his.

His hand on the banister, one foot on the bottom stair, Brody closed his eyes. Maybe he should go up there and have that conversation right now, before they landed back in his bed. It was the right thing to do. Kat deserved to know that he wanted something lasting with her. Settling for less felt plain wrong.

And it would break his heart.

At the top of the stairs he headed for his door. His day, the crazy rush to find his brother, the call to help with the truck, the knowledge that Josh was getting better, it all faded away as he turned the knob. The need to see Kat, to hold her, rose to the surface.

Stepping into the bedroom he’d lived in for the past thirty-­some years, he spotted her on his bed. His gaze ran up her long bare legs to the slip of black lace covering the part of her body he wanted to worship until sunrise, over her belly to her chest. Matching lace cups covered her breasts. In one hand she held a magazine, the pages folded back to reveal a picture of a brain. Her gaze met his and her entire face lit up with an intoxicating mix of need and excitement.

Lying there, waiting for him, she took his fucking breath away. His Little Miss Perfect.

“Some light reading?” he asked.

“Neurology Today.” She set the magazine on the nightstand and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, sitting up. “They published my article on new ways to treat athletes suffering from multiple concussions.”

“Let me guess, baking?”

She laughed. “That’s part of it.”

“I hear it works. One of your patients just told me his memory is coming back.”

“Josh did? Good. I’m sorry I couldn’t say anything.”

Brody shook his head. “Don’t be. He was your patient. Not me.”

“I’m glad we’re clear on that,” she murmured, rising from the bed. “I had plans for tonight that would be highly inappropriate if I was treating you.”

She closed the space between them and rose up on her tiptoes to brush a kiss over his lips. “How was your day, Brody?”

“I woke up missing you in my bed.” He held onto her hips, needing to keep her close. “Once I got you back, I had to leave you in a strip club. But then I came home, learned my brother was going to be OK. And then I found you here. In my bed.”

“Sounds like a roller-­coaster. Lots of ups and downs. Maybe I should help you relax.” She placed a hand on his chest, pressing him back. “Are you ready for your private dance? Your brother took his time finishing his breakfast at the club. While I waited, I watched the dancers.”

“Oh?” They hadn’t captured his attention. But the thought of Kat watching them . . . oh yeah, he liked that mental picture. But then the thought of Kat doing just about anything would probably turn him on. “Did you like what you saw?”

Her hands moved to his biceps, guiding him back until his calves hit the chair. “I learned a few moves.”

“I don’t give a damn about their moves,” he growled, his need rising. Two nights without her in his bed and he was damn near dying to have her. “I want you.”

Desire flared in her green eyes. “Sit, Brody.”

He obeyed, drawing her down with him. His hands ran up her thighs as she straddled his lap. “I need to touch you,” he said.

“It’s against the rules. The bouncers were clear on that. Some guy tried to pull one of the dancer’s panties off while she was lying across his table and—­”

“I’m not some guy, Kat.” He palmed her perfect ass, his fingers running over the thin strip of her thong underwear. “I’m yours.”

She began to move over him, her hips grinding against his lap. “I’ll let the rules slide. This time. On one condition.”

“I’m listening.”

Leaning forward, her breasts pressed against his chest, her lips touched his ear. “Close your eyes and tell me about your fantasy lap dance.”

“Easy.”

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