“Liar,” Sarah shot back. “You haven’t dated anyone seriously since that chick who worked in Rochester—the one with the killer shoes. Blake?”
“Oh,” Rachel said, frowning. “I remember her. You two were a disaster.”
“Drop it,” he muttered. He lowered the Chevy’s hood gently and whistled for Riggs. The dog bounded up from thesnow, tennis ball clamped in his jaw, tail wagging like he was ready for another hour of fetch. Rush gave him a good, solid pat. “Not now, boy. We already played.”
Besides, he had plans tonight.
“Look, girls, I’ve got to go?—”
“It’s Saturday night. Why do you have to get off the phone so quick?” Sarah pushed her face close to the screen and then squealed. “You’re going out with her tonight! Oh my God, yousolike her!”
“He totally does,” Rachel chimed in. “When can we meet her?”
“Did you two forget I’m moving to Boston in less than two months?” His voice came out sharper than he had intended. “No, you can’t meet her. And no, it’s not serious.”
“Fine.” Sarah looked disappointed. “We were just excited, that’s all. You never let us be excited for you.”
“Love you, Rush,” Rachel said, more gently. “We’ll see you Sunday at Pop’s, right?”
“Love you both. See you Sunday,” Rush said.
Rush ended the call before they could push further. He shoved the phone in his pocket and headed inside to get ready because, yeah, he did have a date with Lily tonight, not that he’d admit that to his sisters. He didn’t need them involved, and he didn’t need Lily dragged into their lives either. Not when he was already halfway out the door.
He gave the Chevy one last pat and headed inside with Riggs on his heels. The house felt more bare than it had last week. He’d hauled another load of stuff to the donation center, but the Christmas tree was still in the corner. For reasons he didn’t care to explain, he turned the damn thing on every night when he came home. Tonight was no different.
He tugged off his sweatshirt and tossed it over a chair then stepped into the bathroom and cranked the shower on full blast.He scrubbed his body, then shaved and messed around with his hair until he caught himself and barked out a laugh. Since when did he care? He shoved on a thick winter hat and called it good enough.
They were going to Candlelight Night, Northfield’s annual winter festival on Main Street. Crowds, carolers, the whole town out. The kind of thing that made his skin itch. Normally, he’d steer clear unless he was on patrol, but Lily wanted to go, and he was growing very invested in making Lily happy.
Hell, he didn’t think about much else lately.
Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her on his lap on the couch, curls spilling around her shoulders, playing peekaboo with those gorgeous breasts like she didn’t know she was driving him out of his mind. She’d been a trembling mix of nerves and mischief, and he hadn’t been able to get enough. The way she looked at him—wide-eyed when he said something filthy, or dazed and then sleepy when he made her come hard enough to shake.
Christ, she was addictive.
So damn responsive it floored him. Every gasp, every needy little sound she couldn’t hold back made him want to push further, to show her something new. She’d been shy at first, and tentative, but the second he pressed, she’d leaned in and wanted more. Even when things got rougher than she was used to, she still wanted more.
It shook him, that kind of trust.
He had no business taking it. Not when he had less than two months before Boston pulled him out of here for good. When he left, she’d be alone again, chasing those farmhouse-and-babies-on-the-porch dreams with someone else.
A flood of something he hadn’t felt in years surged through him—ugly, hot, and impossible to ignore. Jealousy.
Rush swore under his breath and shoved the thought downhard. He didn’t have the right to be jealous. That wasn’t part of this deal with Lily.
But what if it could be?
He shoved that thought away even faster.
By the time he pulled the Chevy onto a side street near Main, he had himself fully locked down again.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Lily was already waitingout front of her studio, nearly skipping in her excitement. She spotted him and waved, a smile that stopped him in his tracks spreading across her face. The front windows were fogged from the crush of people inside for her holiday open house, and music drifted out every time the door opened and closed.
Like the rest of Main Street, the studio was part of the Candlelight Night celebration. She had canceled evening classes, and she and Evie were splitting hostess duties, giving the visitors who stopped by a sneak peek of the pageant performance.
He walked through the streams of people on the sidewalk, meaning to give her a quick hug, but instead he found himself stopping dead in front of her.
