"That was taken a couple years ago," she explained. "He's dropped out of Cub Scouts since then. Said it was something a boy should do with his dad."

Connor reached over and stroked his hand down the length of her spine. It was a gesture of comfort, much like the kiss he'd given her the night before, and it was a source of consolation, but it was something else, too. And she couldn't let it be something else. She couldn't allow him to become a crutch she looked toward or depended on, because he wasn't going to be around forever.

She'd made the same mistake so many times-looking for strength outside of herself. She refused to do it again.

"I'll go start on the pie," she said before passing him and heading into the kitchen. It took him a while to join her, and when he did he wore an odd expression.

"You alright?" she asked, turning off the water she had running to wash the apples. "All the family stuff freaking you out? Want me to take you home?"

"Aidan's house isn't home." He leaned against the jamb of the archway that connected the breakfast nook with the kitchen. There was no formal dining room, which worked because she didn't need one.

He watched her intently, a brooding and overwhelming presence in her tiny kitchen. "Am I supposed to freak out because you have a child?"

His arms crossed his chest in a now familiar gesture, emphasizing his mouthwatering biceps. He dominated her thoughts, making it impossible to avoid being highly aware of him. A larger-than-life personality housed in a larger-than-life body. It was too much. He was too much.

"I don't know." She shook out the excess water from the colander. "You came in here looking funny."

"It's been a rough couple days."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"I do, actually."

"Okay. Shoot." She dug into one of the lower cabinets for her apple peeler.

"I can't."

Stacey straightened and hid her unreasonable feeling of hurt and disappointment with a caustic, "Of course not."

"You wouldn't believe me."

"I'll have to take your word for it." She met his gaze and held it. "Since I've got nothing else to go on."

They both waited a long moment. She sensed the conflict in him, the need to say something important, but she couldn't figure out what it would be.

So she made her best guess. "You're not going to be living in the Valley full-time, are you?"

He frowned. "I have to travel a lot."

"Okay." She sighed. "You're not going to ask me to be exclusive when you're in town, but single when you're not, right? Please don't."

"I'm not an asshole, Stacey," he said with quiet dignity. "Can you raise the bar a little when you think about me?"

Connor watched Stacey fidget nervously and inwardly kicked himself. He was bungling this all to hell, but he didn't know how to fix it.

He wanted to be with her.

It was as simple and as complicated as that.

She sighed audibly. "I'm sorry." She tossed her hands up. "I just don't know what you're doing here. Why you're looking at me like that. What I'm supposed to do or say."

I'm here because I couldn't let you go home alone when there are freaks out there. I'm looking at you like this because I've been in your room and I touched the blankets on your bed that keep you warm. I want you to say that you want me there. With you.

With an impatient hand, she pushed the mass of dark curls back from her face. He knew she wanted promises and stability. Perhaps not promises of forever, but he couldn't even guarantee her anything beyond this moment. He might be on a plane tonight with no clue when he would be back. The best way to keep her safe was by stopping the danger before it reached her.

Aidan was right. Connor knew he was the worst possible choice for her, but that didn't silence the part of him that insisted she was his to take care of.

He straightened. "Do you have tools?"

Busy work. That's what he needed. Something to occupy him physically while his brain worked to sort out his dilemma. Otherwise, he'd be all over her in a minute, coaxing and seducing her into the tumble he so desperately wanted. Face to face. Her legs wrapped around his hips. Her nails in his back.

"Only the basics." Her green eyes gave so much away. He wondered if she knew that. "They're in a yellow metal bucket just inside the door."

"I'll get to work."

"Thank you."

Gratitude. He heard it in her voice and the primitive part of his psyche wanted to howl in victory. She needed something and he could provide it.

Mine.

Connor had never felt even the slightest bit possessive about a lover in his life. But then he hadn't felt even the slightest bit like himself since he'd met Stacey.

He caught up the bucket handle, pushed open the screen door, and stepped out onto the porch. There was a good bit of distance from the house to the street. A wide expanse of lawn took over from the flower beds and ran all the way to the chain link fence.

It was a cute house. Quaint and charming. It was a home that suited Stacey and revealed another side of her. He wanted to stay for dinner and another movie. He wanted to love her body again, the right way. The long way. All night. He wanted to wake up with her wiggling her delightful ass against his cock. Only this time they'd both be naked. He could anchor her leg on his hip and push into her from behind-

The door slammed shut behind him.

"That's got to go," he growled, turning to glare at the offending object.

Connor set down the tools and got to work. He forcibly pushed thoughts of Elders and Nightmares from his mind. He had only this single day with Stacey and though he'd come here because he feared for her traveling alone, he now intended to spend the hours with her indulging as if there were no tomorrow.

Because, for them, there wasn't.

"There!"

Pushing to his feet, Connor stood on the now repaired step and jumped up and down. It bore the abuse beautifully.

"Yum," Stacey purred.

Glancing up as the screen door opened, he watched her step outside. "Hi."

"Hi back."

Connor knew that look she had in her eyes. Other women had been giving it to him for ages. It was the first time he'd gotten it from Stacey, though, and coupled with the unconscious licking of her lips it heated his blood.

"Sweetheart," he purred, "you look ready to eat me alive."

"Have you been out here shirtless the whole time?" she asked, a bit breathlessly. She'd put her hair up into adorable pigtails and was carrying two glasses filled with reddish liquid on ice. For some reason, the girlish hairstyle made him hot as hell. There was nothing immature about Stacey, but the look brought to mind some role-playing that he'd love to indulge in with her.

"The last half hour or so."

"I'm sorry I missed it."

His mouth curved. "I'm still here."

She looked as if she was considering his offer. He helped her along a little by reaching down and stoking the straining length of his erection through his jeans.

"Christ, you're brazen," she muttered, eyes riveted.

"You want me. I want you back," he said simply. "My body gets ready to follow through. Pointless to pretend otherwise."

Stacey blew out her breath and then smiled with false cheerfulness. It didn't reach her eyes, which were clouded with confusion and longing. "I thought you might enjoy some cranberry juice."