She shook her head and tried to get her thoughts clear.

Keep it fantasy, not reality.

“Oh no…” Michelle said softly as a big fat raindrop beaded Chloe’s hair.

There was little more warning than that. The clouds unleashed gallons over all of them and beat down on the fire, sending everyone scattering to their cars or inside East’s house.

“I was going to take off anyway,” Natalie said loudly, unconcerned about the rain.

Michelle ran up to them, the poor girl’s perfect hair now a soggy mess. “Can I get a ride with you?” Michelle asked, and Natalie nodded. Chloe tossed her empty beer bottle onto the extinguished fire and headed for the car.

“Not afraid of the rain?” Gage asked from behind her. He held up his jacket like an umbrella and covered her head with it.

“It’s water. Nothing scary,” she said.

Water she wasn’t worried about, but Gage getting closer? Much more nerve-wracking. He was the one man who made her heart shake in her chest, and the closer he came, the less she could deny how she felt about him. And that terrified her.

She looked into his intensely dark eyes. With the orange glow of the fire gone and the clouds muting the light of the moon and stars, Gage’s gaze slid over her skin like a touch she wanted to get lost in.

She knew better, but he was her drug, and with him in front of her, she couldn’t say no.

She took a step forward, stood on her toes to kiss him—

“Ah!”—and fell right on her ass in the mud. “Oh, God.”

Gage smiled and bent to help her up. Mortification surged through her like hot water. This was nowhere near a fantasy. This was real and embarrassing, nothing sexy about it.

She moved to run away, but Gage caught her arm. “I thought you weren’t afraid.”

Right then, with his hand on her skin and his gaze searching hers, fear buzzed in her chest. But it wasn’t the rain, or even him setting it off—it was something deeper, something she’d been denying for weeks.

She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t stay. It was getting too real.

“I’m not. I’m fine,” she fibbed and hustled away. Gage caught up with her near the tree line before she reached her car. Everyone had left. A few people were inside East’s house. Gage closed in, the splattering sound of his boots tromping through the mud made her skin buzz. His entire presence was engulfing her.

He pressed against her. “When are you going to stop running?”

“When are you going to stop chasing?”

He stared at her for a long moment, uncertainty in his normally confident gaze.

“What if I said I wanted to keep chasing you for as long as I was in town?”

“I’d say you’re crazy.”

He dropped his coat, and the rain pelted them both. Even beneath the tree and in the darkness, she felt him. Smelled him. Wanted him.

“You come in and out of town,” Chloe said. “Anything longer than a weekend complicates things. Don’t you see that?”

He nodded, and Chloe arched an eyebrow. He was agreeing with her?

“What if complication was a consideration?” he asked.

“It doesn’t work that way, Gage.” She wiped her brow and moved her hair off her face as rain streaked down from the top of her head to her neck. “You come in for a weekend, we have a good time, and you leave. That’s worked well for us, but anything longer comes with…”

“Strings?”

Truth was, she was more attached to him than ever—and it terrified her. The more she felt for him, the more power he had over her emotions. Her heart.

Distance had provided an excuse before, but now he was standing in front of her, in her town for a few weeks, and she wanted to touch him all the time. She could think of little else—which was a problem. She was dangerously close to handing her heart over to a man for him to do as much or as little with it as he wanted.

And then, after everything, he would leave.

“We have great sex,” she hedged.

Gage frowned. “Can you look at me right now and say this is still just sex to you?”

She pursed her lips. No, this was absolutely more than sex, but she couldn’t say that.

“This is why I don’t date,” she whispered.

He ran his fingers over her cheekbone. “It’s only been a week.”

“It’s more than that.” It was the past two years. It was the way he looked at her, the way he tapped into every fantasy she had, the way he gave a damn. The way he made her cave.

She’d given in to him, and deep down, a raw part of her heart was already at his mercy. But there was no way she’d admit it.

No, she needed to get out of this wet, increasingly real moment. Now.

But when she tried to pull away, he grabbed her arm and stopped her.

“Don’t look at me,” she said.

He cupped her chin and lifted her face. “Why?”

“I have makeup everywhere and I’m all muddy and—”

“And you’re still gorgeous.” He took her hand. “Stop running, Chloe. Let go so we can fall together.”

She didn’t know exactly what he meant, but he took her several yards away from the house and down a small hill as the rain pounded on their shoulders. When they reached the crest, he tugged her with him and slid down the muddy hill.

She screamed and laughed, and Gage was right there with her.

He rolled over to face her, covered in mud and grinning ear to ear. “See, dirty isn’t so bad.”

“Maybe you’re right.” She scooped up a big handful of mud and slapped it on his cheek.

“Oh, you’re going to pay for that, sweetheart.” He smeared mud on her thigh.

“Oh, it’s on now,” she said and leaped on him.

He hit his back on a thick patch of grass. She straddled him, but instead of searching for mud, she gripped his shirt and kissed him hard. The thick scent of rain and grass surrounded them. Her clothes were plastered to her body, and she wanted to peel them off and feel his skin.

The heat was too much to bear. It burned up every ounce of willpower she had. She wanted—needed—to feel him closer. Experience him again, because he was better than any roller coaster and gave her an incomparable adrenaline rush.

Gage caught on real quick and kissed her back. There in the sopping grass, she tugged on his shirt, and he hiked up her skirt. His hands slapped against her ass and flecks of water tickled her skin as he ground her body against his.

“Is this still reality or fantasy?” He pulled her bottom lip into his mouth.

“Both,” she murmured. She floated somewhere between the ground and sky, between emotions and lust. She couldn’t stop, and she didn’t want to—she needed him.

He ran his hands from her thighs, up her back, and then cupped her neck. He tilted her head and kissed her hard. Plunged deep to taste her, worked her lips with his powerful tongue. He relaxed further into the grass, grinding against her and sampling every inch of her mouth. His every muscle was straining and taut beneath her. The ridge of his hard cock pulsed between her legs while his biceps and abs flexed and cut out of his skin.

He was fighting something within himself. She sensed it. Felt it. As if content with having her stay right there with him, while also fighting the urge to push. But push for what? Push her for more? Or push her away?

She slowed her kiss, ready to ask if what she was reading from his body was right, but he didn’t let her get a fraction from his mouth before he yanked her back.

“Don’t move away from me. Not tonight.”

“What’s happening, Gage?” she asked. Because something was happening. With him. With her heart. With their relationship.

“I’ll have to leave at some point.”

“I know,” she whispered against his mouth. He had missions to go on. But he held her like maybe he’d come back. Like he’d just travel for work for a few days and that was it. Not the end of the world surely. Or maybe she was reading into his hold on her. Maybe she wanted him to stay more than she’d realized.