“But not ten-year-old guys and girls,” Greg teased, and watched Zach blush and stare intensely at his Oreo.

“The video is still on,” Brad said mildly. “In case any of you actually care.”

Graham and Greg looked at each other, grinned and said, “Nah.”

*   *   *

REAGAN opened her door, relieved to find Greg there. As much as she had needed the girl time to drink cocktails, bitch, complain and generally get the worst of the day out of her system, there was something about having Greg nearby that settled and soothed her more than an entire vat of cocktails could.

Greg’s large hand cupped the back of her neck and he pulled her in for a seriously heated kiss. One that melted her memory and erased the day’s stresses.

So he could settle and soothe, but he could also frazzle and ignite. Point made.

“Missed you today,” he breathed as he pulled back and rested his forehead against hers. “Practice wasn’t the same without you clacking around the gym in those heels of yours. Where were you all day?”

She started to answer honestly then closed her mouth. It wasn’t something she wanted to relive again, for the third time.

She swatted at his arm and closed the door behind him. “I wasn’t expecting you tonight.” Which explained why she was wearing a pair of ripped sweatpants and a loose, see-through ribbed cotton tank. She could have done a little better with some advance warning.

“Missed you,” he reiterated, toeing off his running shoes. “Hanging with the guys is nice, even with a half-sized man-cub in the mix, but this is where I want to end the evening.”

The simple statement, made effortlessly as he moved to her kitchen to get a bottle of water, warmed her even more than that kiss had. “How was hanging with Zach?”

“Interesting. I don’t have much experience with little kids, so that was different. Sweeney guarded him like a hawk. Seriously, he had his pantry stocked with enough Oreos to feed a platoon. He’s crazy about that kid.”

“Aww.” She debated for a moment sharing what Kara had said about there being no chance with Graham, but she figured that was Kara’s battle to fight. Or not fight. Personally, as much as she respected and admired Kara’s independence and willingness to make it on her own, Reagan was secretly pulling for Graham on this one.

“But he’s ten, and smart, so not completely green.” Greg grinned as he sat on her couch. “I got quite the lesson in dating.”

“Oh, really?” Reagan straddled his legs and settled herself on his lap. Thanks to their near-identical height, her face was a few inches above his, and she had to look down to smile at him. “Share the wealth, please.”

“Well . . .” Greg set the bottle down on her side table, careful to use the coaster she’d placed there, and ran his hands up from her hips under her shirt to press against her back. She leaned against him. “I’ve learned that guys and girls ‘hang out.’ That’s what we’re doing. Hanging out. Adults, of course. Kids don’t do this sort of thing.”

“Naturally.” She breathed in the comforting scent of his skin and nuzzled against his neck.

“Ah, woman. Your nose is freezing.” He pulled away a little, but she pressed harder into him.

“Tell me about your family.”

He stiffened under her, but she pressed a kiss to his jaw. It hadn’t escaped her that he’d fought off questions about his past before. But things were different now. It wasn’t like she needed him to spill all his deep, dark secrets. She just needed something—anything—to tell her she was important enough to open up to, even if it was crack by crack.

He said nothing, and she felt his hands start to drift from her back. “You said you don’t have experience with kids . . . no nieces and nephews?”

“Why are we talking about kids when I’ve got my hands on your skin?” he growled, kissing her hard.

But she couldn’t let him get away with it this time. It was too important to her now. “Just something. Anything.”

His hands gripped her hips, thumbs sweeping down below the waistband of her ratty sweats. “My life started at seventeen, the day I stepped onto that bus on the way to boot camp. Can you accept that?”

She could have pushed. Probably should have. Relationship experts would have said she was a pushover. But the desperation in his voice, hidden under a thin layer of steel meant to armor, squeezed at her heart the way no amount of deflection could have.

She smoothed a hand down his cheek, cupping his face with her palms. “Sounds like we both ran from something.”

“So let’s start running to something.” He captured her lips with his.

CHAPTER

21

His initial instinct had been to avoid. Distract, duck, evade and maneuver his way out of the conversation that led to him confessing his entire ugly childhood. He didn’t want to go there willingly.

But as Reagan deepened the kiss, pressing into him, his motive turned from distraction to . . . oh, who the hell cared what his motives were? There was a smoking hot woman on his lap and she was kissing him senseless. Motives be damned.

“God, you do the best things to my body,” she said, gasping when he nipped at her ear. And when she started to pull the tank up and over her head, she was grinning. She threw the fabric to the armchair and arched her back as he took one nipple into his mouth. His hands rubbed down her bare back, loving the feel of her soft, smooth skin. The arc of her body was almost artistic as she rested her hands on his knees behind her.

He was crazy for this woman.

Slipping one hand inside the waistband of her sweats, he squeezed her ass. No panties. Perfect. She wriggled, but made no move to help him out with the sweatpants like she had the tank. So, he’d just do it himself. He walked that hand, those fingers, around to the front, where she giggled as he pressed into her stomach momentarily before finding her center. Parting her, he found the exact spot he wanted by touch alone and rubbed at her clit.

“Oh . . .” She rubbed against his hand. “Yes, please yes.”

“Like I’d say no to you,” he growled, moving to pay attention to her other breast. Her hands squeezed hard on his knees in response. She was still arched back, offering herself to him in every way possible.

After just a few flicks, a couple of caresses, she exploded against his hand. Her body raised up and then over him, pressing him deeper into the couch as he helped extend her orgasm as long as he could. Thighs pressed against thighs, skin against skin, and he was ready to throw her down, rip her pants off and plunge into her with all the grace and elegance of a water buffalo.

But she finally stilled, gripped his wrist to pull his hand from the waistband of her sweats, and climbed off with a secret smile. “Come to bed.”

“What’s wrong with the couch?” he protested, following along easily. He liked a bed as much as anyone else, but there were other ways to make love. Creativity and variety added a dash of something else to the mix.

“It’s a nice couch, and I paid good money for it, that’s why.” She grinned as she entered her bedroom, then hopped out of her bottoms. “The bed’s more comfortable, and less likely to be wrecked when I attack you.”

“Attack me, eh?” He pulled his own shirt over his head and tossed it, working on the buckle of his belt before she could say more. “Sounds exciting.”

“Hopefully.” She chewed on her bottom lip a moment, and he immediately dropped what he was doing and walked to her.

“Whatever you’re thinking, stop. I can’t wait to have you again. Whether it’s slow and sweet or fast and sweaty, I’m going to be inside you in the next two minutes, and it’s going to be damn good. Because it’s with you, and there’s no other way for it to be.”