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Disgusted with herself for being a promiscuous idiot, she rolled over so she wouldn't have to look at him because the more she looked at him the more she wanted to touch him. But his face refused to disappear from her head once she turned away.
Next to her, he remained warm and real. The smell of his skin, musky and male, proved too tempting. Closing her eyes, she allowed her body to sink closer, craving the briefest of contact.
He muttered something in his sleep, and without warning, his arm came around her waist once again. Willow sucked in a breath, wondering if he was trying to still her restless movements or what. But he only pulled her flush against him and nestled his face in her hair as he let out a contented sigh and relaxed.
Blinking rapidly, Willow glanced at his hand possessively wrapped around her hip. The sweetness behind his involuntary cuddling caught her off guard. She stiffened, unsure what to do. Awake, Deputy Raith Malloy was by no means soft or lovable. She didn't want to be sucked into something because he was unconsciously being so affable.
Then again, he was out cold. He wouldn't kno
w how suddenly charmed she was. And despite his hard and muscled body, he felt really warm and comfortable wrapped securely around her.
Against her will, her body relaxed and a satisfied sigh slipped out. At the noise, his hot palm stroked her hip as if trying to soothe her. For a moment, she wondered if he was actually awake after all. But then she convinced herself he couldn't be. There was no way he would purposely be this sweet.
Repeating that thought through her head, she closed her eyes and sank against him. It felt so nice, she was out within seconds.
~ * ~
The moment her breathing changed, Raith gathered her hair in his hand and moved it out of his face so he wouldn't have to snort any more stray tendrils up his nostrils every time he took a breath. Then he rested his cheek on the back of her sleek bare shoulder and tucked her just a little closer.
The primal urge to cover her completely into a safe nest under him was unexpected. But there it was. Glad she'd finally fallen unconscious so he could cuddle to his heart's content, he nuzzled his nose into her neck and inhaled her divine fragrance.
Heaven.
But even as he held her close, his hands shook. He knew this would happen. He knew just a taste of Willow DeVane would make him weak, would make him want. One time—okay, two times—inside the stubborn, hardhead, amazing woman had turned him into a quivering ball of emotions. She was everything he'd ever dreamed a woman should be. Strong and tough yet soft in all the right places, and so damn sexy it made his throat dry just to look at her. She could take his bullshit and dish it right back. And she cooked orgasmic Italian.
He tried to convince himself she wasn't anything special so he wouldn't start thinking things he shouldn't. He even pointed out all her negative points in his head. But with her warm, naked body wrapped so trusting and relaxed around his, he wanted to remain in her life forever.
Yet as he snuggled, his ex-wife's parting words echoed through him. "All you ever cared about was your stupid job. It means more to you than I do. Well, you don't deserve to be loved. By any woman."
His body went cold.
Successful, educated, connected women like Willow DeVane didn't settle down and set up house with men like Raith Malloy. If anything, he was only a bit of amusement to her.
Tomorrow, she'd move on and he'd be yesterday's news.
So he'd act like it meant nothing too. He'd brush it off and move on, and pretend he didn't give a shit.
Seven
When Willow was seven years old, she attended a funeral with her parents and brother for a fallen officer who died in the line of duty. Over five hundred people attended. She didn't know this number. She didn't know the name of the "dead cop." Nor did she care. She merely huddled among the mourners with her family and wished she had been allowed to stay home and play her new video game instead.
The sanctuary was packed. Willow and her family hadn't arrived in time to get a pew seat and were squashed in the standing room only area at the rear of the church. After accidentally jabbing Chase in the gut twice, Willow had been moved from next to him and was now crushed between her parents. To count, she'd been hushed four times by not just her mother but once by Daddy too.
So, to keep from quietly dying of boredom, she blew bubbles with her gum. Chase sent her a dirty look, forcing her to stick her tongue out at him. He—who was only two years older and thought he was so much more mature—rolled his eyes and proceeded to ignore her. She sighed and popped a loud bubble, which got her shoulder firmly squeezed by Daddy's large hand.
Snapping her mouth shut, Willow stopped chewing, hoping they didn't take her gum away. Holding her breath, she looked at the colorful array of uniforms surrounding her and momentarily forgot about the rubbery wad tucked in her cheek.
Men and women in blue uniforms, brown uniforms, black uniforms, totally white uniforms—you name it—surrounded her family on all sides. Some uniforms had white tops with navy pants or white tops with Black pants, and some uniforms had light blue tops with dark blue pants. Willow had never seen so many cops in one place before. Everyone around her— excluding her family, of course—was decked out in badges, stars, patches and guns.
They ranged in size from tall and lanky to short and chubby. A lot of men had thick necks and short haircuts. Then again, some were small and wiry. But no matter their shape or size, one thing remained common among all: the seriousness of their expressions as they watched the proceedings up front.
Willow, being only four feet and two inches tall, couldn't see what was going on. And even if she could have, she still wouldn't have cared all that much. There had been a bunch of singing already and some loud guy had talked for a while. Then there was praying and more singing.
In that regard, it wasn't all that different from Grampy DeVane's funeral. But there sure hadn't been this many people at Grampy's funeral. Of course, not many had liked Grampy all that much, not even Daddy and certainly not Momma. Willow had to conclude this dead cop must've been a pretty nice guy.
Forgetting to hide her gum, Willow blew another bubble. And just as she thought she had to scream or wiggle—or something—before the boredom bug bit her right in the butt, the crowd around her shifted. Strangers squished closer; one guy even bumped right into Momma, making her stumble.
Startled, Willow clamped her arms around her father's pant leg. Obviously sensing her fear, he reached down and lifted her high into his arms. And wow, from this height she could see a lot more of the action.
