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“Just me and the horses. Plenty of privacy.” She flushed, realizing how that sounded. “I mean ”
His hands found her waist, hard through the thin material of her jacket. “I know exactly what you mean.”
She sucked in a breath, but then he was kissing her.
When his lips touched hers, it was like lighting a match: a quick flare of heat, a burst of light, and then a slow burn. Her body melted into his, letting him support her again. His hands slid under the edge of her jacket, and even though there was a turtleneck there, she froze anyway.
His hands stopped but his kisses didn’t. They slowed, his mouth drawing at hers carefully, his tongue brushing hers until he’d coaxed small noises from her throat and the heat in her body was everywhere, not just near his hands or his mouth. This time, when his hands slid under her jacket, she let him, even when she knew he had to be feeling the scars beneath the fabric.
She didn’t realize they were moving until her back hit the wall of the stable, until she felt his weight against her. Everything accelerated, a pace of desperation. Her pulse, her breathing. The way her jacket was just suddenly gone before she even felt him pull at the zipper. The way his hoodie was a puddle on the concrete floor, before her hands recognized the bare muscles of his arms. His kisses were wild, crazy, addictive.
Layne reached up to find his face, her thumbs tracing the stubble along his jaw. She took a chance and bit at his lip, feeling raw and animalistic and shy, all at once. But he made a small sound, a good sound, and she did it again, more sure.
Then he did it back, and her body lit like a live wire. She wished he didn’t have a T-shirt. She wished she didn’t have a turtleneck. When his hands slid along her waist and found an inch of bare skin, she didn’t flinch. And her indrawn breath meant nothing bad.
Until she heard the roar of a diesel engine, the crunch of truck tires on the gravel road leading to the barn.
Gabriel snapped back. He looked almost panicked.
“The barn manager,” Layne said. “She checks the lower barn first. We have a minute.”
His control was getting better.
He checked the phone. Hunter.
Four alarm fire at Tanyard Springs. U in?
Gabriel slid his fingers across the keys to respond, then froze.
As long as you can stay out of trouble . . .
But a four-alarm fire would be big. And Tanyard Springs was a townhome community. This could be more than one family.
He paused his iPod and slipped out of bed to crack the door.
His brothers were in the kitchen, cleaning up and goofing off from the sound of it. The rain had long since stopped. He could sneak out and be gone before they noticed.
But things weren’t terrible right now. Spending the day with Michael had actually been nice, in a bizarre way. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d played ball with his older brother.
Even the trip to Home Depot had been peaceful.
If he snuck out, it could unravel everything.
But a four-alarm fire. There would be a lot of firemen. It would be easy to stay hidden.
Then again, Michael would know. Hell, he’d probably check the news first thing tomorrow morning. And Michael seemed to be offering him some . . . trust.
Gabriel considered going downstairs, joining them. It might be awkward at first, but maybe it would be okay.
Then he caught Nick’s voice. “So how was your afternoon of babysitting?”
Gabriel started to ease the door closed, sure his twin was talking to Quinn or Becca but Michael responded. “Fine. We ran to Home Depot to pick up supplies for that gazebo job tomorrow.”
Gabriel jerked back.
Babysitting. Babysitting.
Michael wasn’t being nice. He wasn’t being brotherly. He was sitting around, making sure Gabriel didn’t go out and start any fires.
