by then, he gave himself permission to contemplate ending his life on that day. And with the mental exercise came a modicum of peace. It had been the only way he’d survived those first few years. Making bargains with himself that, if it all became too much for him by some set date, he could check out of life’s mortal coil.
He eyed the ranch house critically as he climbed out of the SUV. The roof looked sound and the brick siding looked solid, but that was about the best he could say for the place.
One of the women on the long front porch wore a business suit that screamed Realtor. The other one looked like June Cleaver, complete with pastel-flowered dress, full skirt and a demure little belt cinching in a tiny waist. Her coloring was creamy and soft, her eyes dark, her hair in a French twist… . Good God. Her red hair.
He barely recognized Sammie Jo. She looked sweet. Domestic. Gentle, even. Gone was the leather, the loud makeup, the in-your-face swagger. The change staggered him. He climbed out of the Bronco in minor shock.
“Honey, you’re here!” Sammie Jo cried. “Isn’t it cute? We’ll have so much fun fixing it up. Oh, our first place together,” she gushed.
Oh, God. One month. He could keep up this horrible charade for one month. Jeff Winston deserved that long from him in return for all Jeff had done for him in his darkest days. Gray put one foot in front of him. Then his other foot. One step at a time. One second at a time. Just keep going. Keep moving.
Sammie Jo rushed up to him excitedly. “I knew you’d love it, so I went ahead and started the paperwork. We’ve only rented it for six months. If you hate it, you won’t have to live here that long.” She smiled up winningly at him.
“How could I say no to you?” he managed to choke out.
She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him soundly on the mouth. He was so stunned he just stood there and let her.
“Well, don’t you two make the most darling couple?” the Realtor cooed from behind Sammie Jo.
Couple? A tiny voice wailed in the back of his mind, Nooooooo. One. Month.
He shook hands and murmured appropriate inanities as Sammie Jo introduced him to the Realtor. In a fugue state that made him feel more robot than man, he followed the women inside and duly signed a lease.
He roused enough from his state of horror to register faint surprise at Sammie Jo’s signature. Samantha Jessup. Samantha, huh? Suddenly, the idea of calling her Sam didn’t seem so wrong. As a derivative of Samantha, it wasn’t nearly as masculine and awkward as he’d thought it was. Thankfully, as soon as she dropped a hint about him officially carrying her over the threshold now that it was theirs, the Realtor laughed and took her leave.
“Are you okay?” Sammie Jo mumbled in concern as soon as the Realtor’s car door slammed shut.
“What have you done—” he started as they stood on the porch and watched the woman’s car pull out of the driveway.
“Inside, sweetheart,” she murmured, sotto voce. “The neighbors will be watching.”
“In that case …” He bent down and swept his arms around her. He lifted her in his arms and strode toward the front door. But Lord, the price of it. Using techniques a trauma therapist had taught him, he blanked his mind completely. And then, bit by bit, he let in the details of this one moment. The cool air. The autumn smell of burned leaves. The weight and softness of the woman in his arms. A hint of roses as she shifted slightly. The way his breathing deepened in response to her.
Laughing, she reached down to open the door for him. He added the sultry delight in her laughter to his inventory of sensations.
Carefully, carefully he reached past this moment to the next safest thing: his job. This was a cover. They had to establish themselves as a couple. Being absolutely certain to let no emotion creep into him, he paused in the doorway and leaned his head down to kiss her.
What he hadn’t counted on was her kissing him back. On her mouth opening in surprise beneath his, on her tasting like chantilly cream, all sweet and fluffy with a hint of vanilla. Her arms went around his neck, and she moaned in her throat. She went soft and warm in his arms, cuddling up against him like a purring kitten. Gone was the predator, replaced by this entirely foreign—and entirely female—female.
She casually smashed through every barrier he’d erected for himself, ripping away the fog he’d wrapped himself in like a protective blanket. All that was left was something raw and unnamable, both needy and violent. It scared the living hell out of him.
But the job demanded it, right? It was all part of their cover. It was okay. He let go of the fear and allowed in the sensations bombarding him from every direction. He tested her lips with the tip of his tongue and they were as tasty and alluring as the rest of her. She kissed him back eagerly, almost as if she’d been thinking about it for a while and wondering what it would be like.
And then the heat really amped up between them. What changed, he wasn’t sure. But one second they were kissing, and the next, they were kissing. She was pulling his head down to hers, he was plundering her mouth with lips and tongue, she was devouring him back, and raging need to get her naked roared through him.
He stepped all the way inside the house and kicked the door shut. Not breaking the incendiary kiss, he let her body slide down to the floor slowly, registering every feminine curve that pressed wantonly against him. It had been so long. So very long …
“You’re making me think naughty thoughts,” she gasped.
“That’s how you like it, isn’t it?” he murmured back. “Naughty.”
Her lips curved in a smile so smoking hot he was vaguely surprised his hair didn’t catch on fire. “I guess you’ll just have to find out for yourself.”
And with that, she stepped back from him. She spun into the room off the left of the tiny foyer. Her full skirt twirled around her and she looked like a fresh, young girl. Where had the edgy, tough goth chick disappeared to? He fought to form a coherent thought and came up with, “What’s with the retro virgin look?”
She laughed gaily. “I gather from the enthusiastic welcome home that you like the look?”
He shrugged. “The neighbors were watching.” He wished the words back as soon as he saw her face fall in disappointment. But then she rushed to the corner, yanking at the edge of a horrible gold shag carpet that looked nearly original to the house.
“Check out the hardwood beneath this hideous stuff. Once we pull up the carpet and buff the floor, it’ll be gorgeous.”
“I’m not doing home improvement projects on our hideout!”
“But that’s our cover. We’re setting up our first home together. If folks see us doing yard work and painting and replacing carpet, they’ll know we’re moving in for good. They’ll open up to us.”
“How long are we supposed to spend playing house and hoping it leads to some information?”
“As long as it takes,” she answered blithely.
“You’re mad.”
She threw him a disingenuously innocent look. “Why, I’m not mad at all. I’m thrilled. Let’s make a list and head out to the home-improvement store right now. Shelly—she’s the Realtor—told me where it is.”
“Seriously, Sam. This is nuts.”
“Seriously, Gray. It’ll work. Trust me.”
“I hardly know you! How am I supposed to be your fiancé full-time and in public, no less?”
She laughed. “That kiss you laid on me was a bit more than a hello-it’s-nice-to-meet-you peck. Just go with that.”
“What the hell does that kiss have to do with anything?” He would have added that the kiss had just been an act for the nosy neighbors, but he didn’t want to