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“Okay, then. I don’t think you have anything to worry about. But I reckon you’d be best off checking with Mik directly.”
Rafe thought about that and shook his head. “I think it upsets her.”
“It’s not this that upsets her.”
He shot Callum a look. There was laser-like certainty in his tone. “What upsets her, then?”
“Ask her yourself. I’m only here, saying this much, because I promised her I would if you two made a balls up of it. Which I should have fucking known you would. Idiots,” he said affectionately.
Rafe pushed to his feet.
“She’s not home. She’s gone away for a few days. Len’s weekender.”
“Right. Thanks.”
“One more word of advice, since I seem to be in Guru mode. Whatever you plan to say, start by letting her know you’re madly in love with her.”
Rafe felt a shock hit him like a thousand volts of electricity.
“Seriously, you’re a dumbass.”
As the reality of Callum’s revelation sank in, there didn’t seem to be any arguing with his observation. He, Rafe McKenzie, really was a dumbass. A world class idiot. Without responding to Callum, he ran inside, grabbed his car keys and strode out to his car, ready to fill the Mikayla shaped hole in his life.
* * *
Mikayla sat on the circular cane chair on the front deck of Len’s little cabin and heaved a sigh. The weather was shit. She was shit. She put her feet up on the bench seat in front of her and gazed out at the drizzle. How depressing. Roxette’sIt Must Have Been Love,”played through her headphones. It really was not helping matters. She’d had sad, break up music on her playlist since she’d arrived at the cabin. Talk about wallowing. Every now and then she’d attempt to give herself a pep talk, or some tough advice. But it was just too much. Wallowing was easier. So, she wallowed. She glanced down at the photo album in her lap, traced her finger over the front photo. Wallowing and torturing herself. Such a good combination.
The hairs on the back of her neck prickled. She turned her head and was hit with a wall of emotion. Rafe had one foot on the step of the veranda, looking ridiculously gorgeous. She scowled. How dare he look so gorgeous when she had to work so hard to resist him. She watched as he walked across the short veranda. She hastily moved her feet off the bench when he moved to sit down in front of her. Then he just sat there, gazing at her with an odd glint in his eye. She pulled the headphones out of her ears, her heart bumping painfully.
“I have something I need to ask you.”
“Alright.” He’d driven all this way to ask her a question? It had better not be something stupid.
“The night of your birthday party, when we went to the lookout…”
“Yeah?”
“And we…”
“I know what happened at the lookout, Rafe.”
“Right. When we made love, did it make you uncomfortable? Upset you? Did I upset you?”
“Of course, because toe curling orgasms are the pits.”
A shadow of a smile passed over his face. “So, you’ve never been scared, worried or upset, any time we’ve ever had sex.”
“No.”
“Never?”
“Jesus fucking Christ, Rafe. No! Why would I? We have amazing sex together. I’ve never been scared, hurt, worried, humiliated or anything. Happy?”
“Maybe.” He scratched his chin. “I have to tell you something. A lot of things, actually. But we’ll start with this.”
Her eyes grew round as he told her about what he’d been feeling.
“Let me get this straight. You’ve been a weird asshole this whole time because you were worried that you were accidentally going to sexually assault me?”
