He told himself it was Willow being Willow. That she wasn’t flirting, wasn’t interested.
But the way she kissed him back? There was no pretending now. Not with her hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer like she couldn’t get enough either.
He deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against hers as he mapped the sweetness of her mouth. She tasted like maple syrup and promises, like everything he’d been denying himself since the day he’d arrived at this ranch broken and hollow.
When she pulled back slightly, her breathing ragged, he was already missing the contact. Her gray eyes were dark with desire, and her lips were swollen from his own. Beautiful. Perfect.
A throat cleared behind them.
Decker’s blood turned to ice as he straightened, automatically moving to put himself between Willow and whoever walked in. When he turned, Carson stood in the library doorway, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.
Fuck.
“She had something in her hair.” Decker’s explanation sounded weak even to his own ears.
Carson’s eyebrow arched. “That doesn’t explain her lips though.”
He clenched his jaw. “Yeah.”
The single word hung in the air between them like an admission. Because what else could he say? That he’d been fighting his feelings for months?
That kissing Willow felt like coming home and going to war all at once?
Willow let out a nearly inaudible groan but thankfully didn’t try to explain.
“Come with me.” Carson’s tone brooked no argument. “I need to see you in the office.”
Willow shot to her feet and smoothed down her hair that Decker’s hands had mussed into delicious, sexy disarray.
“Carson, you’re overreacting.” Her cheeks were flushed, whether from embarrassment or arousal, Decker couldn’t tell, but his gut clenched at the sight.
“It’s not about that.” Carson’s gaze never left Decker’s face. “Business.”
Decker’s gaze collided with Willow’s for only a milli-heartbeat. If he looked into her beautiful eyes longer, he didn’t trust himself not to blurt things better left unspoken.
Carson twitched his head for him to follow, and Decker ducked out, leaving Willow with a look in her eyes that damn near made him turn back.
The walk to the office felt like a death march. Decker’s mind raced through possibilities, none of them good. Maybe Carson was about to tell him to pack his bags. Maybe the team had decided he was too unstable. Maybe—
Denver, Colt and Theo were already seated in various poses around the office.
This wasn’t some impromptu conversation. This was planned.
“Sit.” Carson gestured to the chair across from his desk.
“I’ll stand. Old habits and all.”
Carson didn’t push it. “You said you wanted on the team.”
“I do.”
“If you want on the team, you have to pass the tests. All of them.”
Decker’s pulse quickened, but not with fear. In anticipation. “What kind of tests?”
“The kind that prove you can handle yourself in the field.” Theo pushed off the well-broken-in leather sofa and stepped forward, studying Decker with calculating eyes. “Starting with shooting.”
Twenty minutes later, they stood at the ranch’s shooting range. The Black Heart Ranch was a huge spread, and the Malones had cleverly built the range in a hollow between rises so the gunshots were muffled and wouldn’t trigger the vets.
