A hardness crossed his face, then shifted to the congenial playboy I’d first met. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep your dirty little secret.”
17
BISHOP
It didn’t surprise me to see lights in the clubhouse windows when I pulled into the drive the following morning.
They’d come on late last night, sometime after Ash left with Noelle.
He’d not said a word, but I knew he’d been the one to fix the power.
If Rafe suspected, he’d kept it to himself.
I lowered the kickstand and propped my bike alongside Rafe’s.
He’d probably stayed here all night, something he did more and more of late instead of going home.
I breathed in the familiar tang of asphalt and snow and kicked my heel against the sidewalk.
A thick chunk of ice broke loose and skittered into a pile of snow.
Someone should clean up the walkway before an accident happened.
Me.
The someone was me.
I could use the physical exertion.
“Fuck a trucker.” Rafe’s harsh rasp sounded from my left.
His cursing continued in a long litany that I’d heard so many times, it failed to shock me anymore.
Turning, I froze in place.
What the hell?
Rafe stood on a ladder, his arm stretched overhead as he attempted to hook a set of Christmas lights onto the eave of the house.
The ladder wobbled, and he grabbed for the top with both hands, releasing the strand of lights.
They fell into the snow with soft plopping sounds and disappeared.
“Need some help?” I bit back a laugh at the furious expression he shot my way.
My lips twitched, but I knew better than to show any levity.
Rafeneverdecorated for Christmas.
Why remained a mystery, but I suspected it came from his childhood.
We all suffered from bad memories linked to our pasts.
Whatever Rafe has beneath his cold exterior, it prevented him from truly celebrating the Christmas season.
“What are you doing here?” Rafe barked the question at me.
I raised my hands and patted the air in a ‘calm down’ gesture.
