“It is if you can’t prove he’s yours.”
“Worried about me?” he asked softly, his gaze sliding to her lips.
“Yeah,” she said sardonically. “Because if they locked you up, I might never see you again.”
“Libby.” he said in that same low voice, not at all deterred by her sarcasm. Her name came out like a caress.
“Damn it, Kade. Stop it.”
He pulled his gaze back to her eyes. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”
And she was sorry that he was giving her that look, the one that used to make her insides go liquid. “That’s great, Kade. But it doesn’t make it all better.”
“If I go and get Blue, will you turn me in?”
The quick change of topic threw her off balance. “Maybe.”
He took a step closer. “No, you won’t.”
Libby raised her chin. “How do you know?”
He took her face in his warm, work-roughened hands and, heaven help her, Libby did not take that important step back. The one she had to take if she wanted to keep their relationship the way it was. He lowered his mouth to hers, kissed her. Slowly. Deeply.
It felt so familiar, so welcome, so hot, that it was a few seconds before Libby shoved against his chest, knocking him back against his truck. She spun around and stalked to the house without a word, wiping the back of her hand across her mouth as she went. Erasing the sensation.
The rest of the evening was shot and Libby eventually gave up and went to bed early. To her lonely bed. She was tired of being alone. And Kade was not the answer.
LIBBY MET SAM after work on Friday night for their dinner date. Since he’d just come off an emergency call, his blond hair was rumpled and he wore jeans and a plaid shirt. She wore her field khakis and a black T-shirt. They made a striking couple when they walked into the Supper Club, Wesley’s finest dining facility, because they were the most underdressed couple there.
Over drinks, Sam told her vet stories, which Libby always found entertaining since she understood animals almost as well as, and in some ways better than, he did. The restaurant started to fill up after their main course arrived, and Libby was glad they’d opted to go out early.
“You never told me you were friends with Kade Danning,” Sam said.
Libby stared at him over what had been a fairly decent steak—until then.
“I guess I didn’t see any reason to.” Sam, who was normally quite intelligent, didn’t take the hint.
“I used to love to watch him ride.”
“He was good,” Libby said, picking up her glass of water, sipping.
“I thought it was a shame, what happened to him.”
“You mean when that horse almost did him in?”
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