Mendoza's Return by Susan Crosby Page B

only, no strings attached?”
    She wanted strings. She wanted nights in his arms and waking up to watch the sunrise and a kiss good bye in the morning. She didn’t want her parents finding out and the reproachful looks that would follow, or the pity when it ended. Because it would end—she had no doubt about that.
    â€œYes, that’s exactly what I want,” she said, sure of her decision finally.
    â€œAnd either of us can end it when we see fit, no recriminations, no blame? A no-fault affair, as it were?”
    â€œWe’re adults. We can choose what kind of relationship we want.” But even as she said the words, she knew it wasn’t true. She was already falling in love with him again. If she’d ever stopped loving him.
    He didn’t speak for at least thirty seconds. Feeling almost sick to her stomach, she waited and waited.
    â€œOkay,” he said at last.
    She wanted to weep. It was what she’d wanted to hear, and yet it wasn’t enough.
    â€œHave you been happy, Rafe?” she asked.
    â€œYes.”
    â€œLife is what you expected?” she asked, wanting more of an answer.
    â€œMore than I expected.”
    â€œYet you moved back here…”
    â€œI’ve made a whole lot of money, and that’s not going to stop because I live here now. I have a certain skill that people pay well for, and an above-averagetolerance for risk. I won’t apologize for what I’ve achieved. It feels good.”
    â€œDo you ever wish you’d taken a shot at the big leagues?”
    â€œNow and then.”
    They climbed out of bed. He took her hand and pulled her toward the bathroom.
    They didn’t have much to say after that, just let their shower-wet kisses and soapy hands do all the talking. By the time he left an hour later, her body ached contentedly and her heart discontentedly. She’d entered into an arrangement that could lead either to a purging of past blame and hurt or a whole new level of agony.
    Either way, she had to give it a shot, once and for all. Her peace of mind depended on it.
    Â 
    Rafe hadn’t been home for two minutes when someone knocked on his front door.
    Melina’s father stood in the doorway. Rafe didn’t invite him in, nor did he address the man. He’d always called Melina’s mother Patsy, but he had never called her father Jefferson—or even Mr. Lawrence. Just Sir.
    â€œI want you to leave my daughter alone. And before you say anything—I know you’ve been at her place for the past two hours.”
    â€œYou also know we’re working together on Elliot Anderson’s situation.”
    Jefferson’s gaze pierced him. His hands fisted.“My girl went through hell after you walked away. She’s been steady on her feet for a while now. She doesn’t need tripping up by you again.”
    Rafe clamped his mouth against the words that threatened to spill. He’d walked away? Like hell he had. The fact that Jefferson didn’t know the truth made Rafe wonder if everyone thought the same—that Rafe had ended the relationship, when it wasn’t true at all. He’d acknowledged the end, but that was it.
    All Rafe said to her father, however, was, “Message received, sir.”
    The vague response obviously didn’t please Jefferson. “You know, son, I did some checking on you. You were a real ladies man in Ann Arbor, weren’t you? Cut a wide swath.”
    â€œSo?” He’d had no reason not to. To his knowledge he hadn’t broken any hearts.
    â€œMelina’s a good girl. She deserves to find a man to marry and bear his children. She won’t do that if you keep stringing her along.”
    Rafe almost laughed. If only Jefferson knew the deal Melina had just presented Rafe with. Who was stringing whom along? Rafe did, on the other hand, understand a father’s love.
    â€œAs I said, sir. Message received.” It was all he could promise,