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And foolish.

Reckless.

Just plain stupid.

Giving the gang a sheepish smile, she broke the connection with Keith. “Sorry. He’s just so hot.”

“Oh, God, it never gets less disgusting,” Ronnie said, adding gagging sound effects and gestures. “Anyway, what you don’t realize and what makes this extra great is that we are all named after British rock stars. So the fact that you’re Mick, means you truly belong with us.”

If only.

Beside her, Keith shifted away. The movement was subtle, hell, maybe he didn’t even realize it himself, but she caught it.

Shaking off the disappointment, she pinged her gaze between Ronnie and JP. “You were?”

JP nodded, swallowed his mouthful, then said, “Yep. Our mom was obsessed with British rock bands. Mostly Led Zepplin and The Stones. Jagger is obvious, Keith is for Keith Richards. I’m JP for John Paul Jones. Ian is Ian Steward. Jimmy for Jimmy Paige. And last but not least, Veronica for Ronnie Woods.”

“Lucky me,” Ronnie mumbled.

Mickie’s eyes widened. “Wow, I had no idea. That’s pretty cool. It’s something fun that binds you all but isn’t completely obvious, like having all your first names begin with the same letter.”

“Yep,” JP said. He winked. “And now you’re part of it.”

Ugh, why did Keith flinch every time someone lumped her in with the lot of them? Was it because he didn’t want to include her in his family or because he worried she wouldn’t view herself as one of them? He’d flat out admitted he expected her to get bored and run back to Hollywood in the near future.

She’d forced herself to purge that from her mind the previous night, but now it hit her with a vengeance. What if he couldn’t get past the fear? What if she spent months, years, growing closer to him and his family only to find he woke up each morning waiting for her to hand him a movie script and a plane ticket? Could their relationship—could any relationship for that matter—withstand such doubts and distrust?

But on the flipside, maybe all he needed was to more time to get to know her. To learn her inside and out. If he did, perhaps he’d discover she meant it when she said she no longer wanted that life. Nothing could or would entice her back to Hollywood because leaving hadn’t been a decision to improve her life. It had been a necessity to save her life.

“Hey,” Ralph whispered, bringing her back to the present. The Bensons were all chatting, laughing, and ribbing each other as usual.

“What?”

“Have you told him?”

She wrinkled her nose. “Told him what?”

He rolled his eyes. “All that sex is making you forgetful. Told him about the guy from the diner.”

Oh, crap, impossible as it might seem, she had forgotten about Chuck after Keith came over. “No. Not yet. But I will. I don’t want to ruin the moment.”

His perfectly shaped eyebrows drew down. “Okay, but don’t put it off for too long. He needs to know.”

With a nod, she whispered, “So what do you think of the crew?”

A smile transformed Ralph's face from serious to playful. “I think they are perfect for you and you are perfect for them.”

So did she. It was what she’d been missing all those years in Hollywood. A deep connection to other people. She hadn’t had a tribe, a family, and it’d nearly destroyed her. Now that she’d found it, she wanted to protect the precious gift with all she had.

“So don’t blow it,” he added, tossing in a wink to soften the statement.

I’ll try my very best.

CHRIST, HE THOUGHT his family would never fucking leave.

Yeah, breakfast had been enjoyable and all, but after watching Mickie laugh, have fun, and fit like a glove with the most important people in his life, he was hard as a fucking diamond once again. This need he’d developed for her was insane and bound to be a major distraction, but right then, he didn’t give a fuck. They were alone, and it’d been too many hours since he’d had his hands on her.

Or in her.

“Ugh, why did I tell them I’d take care of the clean-up?” she asked with a groan as she hiked up her sleeves. With her back to him, she stood by the island, surveying the mess. Those damn jeans that probably cost as much as he made in a week hugged her round ass, calling to him like a beacon in a raging storm. He’d say it was money well spent, except he’d been all over that ass without the jeans, and it was even more stellar in the nude. The woman could wear a cloth sack and that ass would still turn heads. “You realize JP ate more than all of us combined? He should be on clean-up duty. And P.S., where the hell does he put it all? That shit’s just not fair,” she grumbled as she whirled to face him.

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