A slight sound escaped—soft, helpless—and he groaned against her skin.
“God, you drive me crazy,” he rasped, restraint fraying his voice.
He sifted his fingers into her bun, loosening it until strands fell around her face and shoulders. His mouth found hers again—hungrier. The room tilted. The space between them burned—want tangled with fear until she couldn’t tell one from the other.
When his hand skimmed beneath the edge of her cami, sliding up her ribs, thumb grazing the curve of her breast—a touch so hot and careful—desire crashed into fear, want colliding with caution.
She broke the kiss, resting her forehead against his. Both of them breathed hard while rain pounded the roof.
“Burke…” Her voice trembled. “I can’t?—”
She wanted to say,I’m married. Because Darcy Nolan isn’t even real. Because the man holding her wears the badge that could end all of this.
His thumb traced her cheek, gentle where moments ago he’d been fierce. He pressed one last kiss to her temple, lingering.
“I know,” he whispered. “Not yet.”
He eased back, eyes burning—storm-gray and relentless.
Burke
He hadn’t planned to come. He’d told himself to leave it alone—give her space, keep things simple. But ever since the hike that morning, he hadn’t been able to shut her out of his head.
The way she’d looked at him at the falls when he told her about Anna—his fiancée—no pity, just quiet understanding. The way her fingers had found his and stayed there. He’d felt that touch all day, warm against his palm.
When the storm rolled in, it hit like a hammer, wind shaking the glass on his porch. He pictured her out there alone in that little camper—rain pounding the roof, creek rising—and before he could talk himself out of it, he’d grabbed a bottle of wine and his keys.
Now he was dripping on her mat, bottle in hand, trying like hell not to second-guess himself.What was he even doing? Showing up unannounced in the middle of a downpour like some fool teenager?
But then she opened the door.
Darcy stood there barefoot, candlelight spilling over her bare shoulders, hair coming loose from a knot. The tiny camper behind her glowed warm and golden, a cocoon against the storm. For her five-two frame, it was perfect. For his six-two,it felt impossibly small—yet somehow he wanted to fold himself right into it. Right into her.
She tugged at her cami like she wasn’t sure she should’ve answered at all, and every protective instinct in him pulled tight.
He mumbled something about the wine—anything to steady himself—because her eyes made it impossible to remember why he’d come.
Inside, the space was close enough that his knees brushed hers when they sat. Candlelight played over her skin. She smelled like soap and maybe cookies—something warm he couldn’t quite name. He tried to focus on the wine, the weather, his badge—anything but her lips curving around the rim of the glass. Then she looked up, eyes catching the glow, and he was finished.
She had no idea what she did to him—how soft could feel dangerous, how home could fit inside something this small.
He told himself to be steady. To be Sheriff Scott, not a man who forgot himself. But then she whispered his name—soft, uncertain—and the restraint he’d been clinging to snapped.
She tasted like wine and warmth and everything he’d been trying not to need. He kissed her until the storm fell away—until all that existed was the sound she made when his mouth found her neck.
He wanted more. God, he wanted all of her. His hand slid beneath the hem of her cami—and he stopped. Muscles locked, breath shaking, he let his forehead rest against hers.
“Burke… I can’t?—”
The words hurt, but he understood. Better than she knew.
“I know,” he said quietly, thumb brushing her cheek. He pressed a kiss to her temple, memorizing the feel of her before forcing himself to pull back.
Because no matter how much he wanted her—how every inch of him thrummed with it—he needed her trust more.
Rain battered the mountain while he sat in the gold glow of her camper, heart pounding like a fist in his chest. He had never wanted anyone the way he wanted her.
Chapter 21
