“Yeah.”

So Brooke had been dragged around like a rag doll, with no say in her life until she’d been on her own. No wonder she liked her careful control. “Sounds tough.”

“It doesn’t matter—this isn’t a poor-me story. My point is, I got my uptight analness from my childhood, or lack thereof, but I could be worse, and yes, I realize you’re thinking that’d be quite a feat, but it’s true. In any case, I’ve led a sort of wanderlust life.”

“When all you really wanted was stability. Comfort.”

Again, she revealed surprise that he got her. “Yes. And then my grandmother died and shocked everyone by leaving me her great big old house, chock-full of sixty-plus years of stuff, even though she didn’t know me. I shouldn’t have cared, but I did. I couldn’t just let strangers box it up and get rid of it.”

“Of course not.”

She looked around, at the rock, the ocean, gesturing wide. “So here I am.”

“So here you are. In a house. A home, actually. That’s probably new to you.”

“Very.” She lifted a shoulder. “At least for another few weeks, until the job’s over, and the house sells. It’s going on the market this weekend.” She met his gaze, and in hers the truth was laid bare. No matter what happened, despite the danger of caring too much, or falling a little too hard, she didn’t want to miss out on this.

Neither did he. The wind kicked, stirring the warm evening. Her bare arm bumped his, a strand of her hair slid along his jaw as he slowly pulled her closer.

She tipped her head up to his, eyes luminous as her hand came up to his chest. She waited until their mouths nearly touched before she held him off. “I’m going to let loose tonight, Zach.” Her fingers dug in, just a little. “Consider yourself warned.”

His pulse leaped. So did other parts of his anatomy. “I think I can handle it.”

“Sure?”

“Very,” he murmured, stroking a hand down her hair, her back, cupping her sweet ass and scooting her a little closer, closing his eyes when her mouth brushed over his jaw, then met his.

Oh, yeah. He ran his hands down her body, half braced for her to come to her senses and stop him.

Any moment now…

Instead, she kissed him just the way he liked to be kissed, long and deep and wet, and raw, helpless pleasure flooded him.

And instead of her coming to her senses, he lost his.

9

AT ZACH’S RESPONSE to her kiss—a thrillingly low, rough sound from deep in his throat—Brooke melted and kissed him again, and then again…

“Brooke.”

Lifting her head, she looked into his eyes.

His breathing had gone uneven, and against her body she could feel his, solid and warm and…hard.

Very hard.