This is just in my kitchen.

There isn’t much left in this song anyway.

“I’ll be right back!” Luke tears out of the kitchen, cackling like the Joker as he goes.

I spin her again, feeling my boxers grow tighter at the light laughter that crests her perfect lips. When the song ends and the beat of silence slips into a softer, slower melody, I should step away.

But I don’t. Instead, I pull her close, not missing the tiny, shocked gasp she breathes out as I do.

“Should I stop?” I drop my voice, letting my eyes linger on her lips.

Her response comes fast, without hesitation. “No.”

I pull her closer, lining our hips up and feeling her hand slide across the expanse of my shoulders.

As we sway, I take my time trailing my fingers over her rib cage. And I don’t miss the way she shivers when I do.

“You’re a hell of a dancer,” I husk.

She smiles up at me. “Yeah. A total weirdo.”

I chuckle, rubbing a thumb over her lower back. Her hand feels clammy where it’s gripped in mine.

“Pretty good at guitar, I might add.”

“Ah, well, when Ford Grant is your dad, it’s pretty much mandatory.”

“What about the voice?”

“What about it?” Her eyes roll, suddenly shy again.

“Your voice is beautiful.” I say it because it’s true and I met her eye when I do. She’s strangely uncomfortable with being complimented, always deflecting or making a joke. We sway quietly to the song, listening to the words.

It goes on about a stranger’s heart that has no home—smiles covering your heart. It’s haunting and beautiful, and I find myself straining to listen. “What song is this?” I ask, entranced. “Her voice almost sounds like yours.”

Her eyes dart away, and my hand tightens on her waist. I let myself imagine my calloused hands gliding over her smooth skin. Worshipping every inch of her. Sinking into her.

“The song is ‘Fade into You’ by Mazzy Star. It’s one of my favorites,” she rushes it out quickly before the compliment leads her to changing the subject entirely. “Thank you for trusting me with Luke. This is already the best summer I’ve had in a long time.”

“You’re welcome. Thank you for making him laugh like that. Best sound in the world. You missing anything about the city?”

“No. Just riding.”

She steps closer, and I feel the press of her against me. The heat. The friction. My hand splays on her back. “I’ll find you a horse to ride.”

“You’re a good man, Cade Eaton. Quite possibly one of the best.” Her voice is so soft that I barely hear it.