Free We'll Never Tell (Secrets of Ravenswood) by Jannine Gallant

much credit for bravery—or stupidity.”
    His thumb stroked across
her cheek. “I’ll be right back.”
    After retrieving a
flashlight from his truck, he walked around the cottage, shining the light in
the bushes and beneath the windows. Confident there was no one lurking nearby,
he headed toward the main house. Frogs croaked in the ornamental pond at the
foot of the garden, and the crushed shells of the path crunched beneath his
feet. The windows were shuttered; alarms activated if the blinking red light
over the door was any indication. He guessed no one had been near the place.
    Ethan hurried back the
way he’d come. At the door to Sam’s cottage, he wiped his feet on the mat and
entered, then locked the door behind him. She stepped out of the kitchen to
meet him.
    “I’m heating water for
tea.” Rubbing her arms through the sleeves of her blue fleece robe, she stared
at him with worried eyes. “Did you find anything?”
    “No footprints in the
dirt beneath the windows or signs of forced entry. I wonder how he got in.”
    She glanced away then
crossed the tiled kitchen floor when the tea kettle whistled. “I may have left
the door unlocked.”
    He barely heard her
mumbled words. Biting back a sharp comment, he forced out a slow breath. “Not
very smart, considering.”
    She glanced over her
shoulder. “Your self-restraint is commendable. Would you like a cup of tea?”
    “Sure, as long as it
doesn’t taste like flowers or fruit.”
    “Black. Got it.” She
pulled a plain box from the back of the cupboard and a second covered in
flowering vines from the front, poured boiling water into two mugs, and brought
them to the table. “I shouldn’t have freaked out and called you.”
    He dropped onto the
second chair and placed his hand over hers. It was small and delicate,
vulnerable. “I’m glad you did.”
    She picked up the honey
bear sitting on the table and squeezed a dollop into her tea. “You like beating
the bushes for homicidal maniacs at midnight?”
    “I can think of better
ways to end the evening.”
    Slow color crept up her
neck and tinged her cheeks pink. He was pretty certain she was remembering the
night they’d spent together. God knows, he’d tried to forget it for the last
five years with little success. He’d meet a perfectly nice woman, go out with
her a few times, and then wind up comparing her to Sam. Afterward, it was a
downhill slide to nowhere. The only solution was to get Sam out of his system
completely—or make her a permanent part of his life.
    “The fact that you
called means you trust me. You reached out to me. I like that.”
    She sipped the tea, met
his gaze briefly, and looked away. “I do trust you. We have a connection beyond
a single night of sex. At least I hope we do.”
    He set down his mug and
stood. Rounding the table, he pulled her up off the chair and tugged her
against his chest. Circling her waist with his arms, he looked into her eyes.
Trepidation mixed with a hint of desire.
    “Are you going to ask me
to stay?”
    She leaned her forehead
against his chin, and her breath whispered across his neck. The sweet scent of
mangos teased his senses.
    “I’ve been wondering
that very thing since you walked through the door.”
    He shifted
uncomfortably, his jeans straining tight, and ached with wanting her. “And?”
    “I think we both know
you aren’t going anywhere.”
    “I was certainly
hoping.” His mouth slanted across hers, tasting the warm sweetness within as
she opened to him. He cupped her face between his palms and, without breaking
contact, backed her out of the kitchen and toward the open bedroom door.
Stopping beside the bed, he hesitated.
    “You’re sure? I don’t
want to push you into something you aren’t ready for.”
    She rubbed her
fingertips over his jaw then touched his bottom lip. The gesture sent a bolt of
desire straight to his groin. His breath hissed out, and he sucked the finger
into his mouth.
    Her eyes glazed, and she
spoke