Chapter 9: The Shop Floor

The phone buzzed twice more on the bench and went quiet.

Rafe didn't reach for it. He kept his forehead against mine and his hands flat on the drawers on either side of my head.

"Answer it," I said.

"No."

"Then tell me what you owe me."

"It's a long story, and it starts ten years ago." His voice was low and rough.

"You should hear it first, Stephanie. Before you decide anything."

"I've already decided."

"You haven't heard it."

"Then I'll hear it tomorrow." I slid my hands up his chest.

"Tomorrow I'll still be here, or I won't. But tonight I don't want anybody else's past in this room."

He closed his eyes.

"Tonight I want you," I said. "Only that. Say yes or say no."

His jaw flexed under my fingers.

When he opened his eyes they were dark and completely steady.

"Yes," he said.

I took his hand off the drawer and pulled him across the shop floor by the cuff of his jacket.

The bikes stood around us in the dim light, chrome and leather, and the big overhead lamps hummed.

At the end of the row was the long steel workbench, empty and clean.

I shoved his jacket off his shoulders and let it fall.

Under it he wore a gray thermal shirt. I pulled the hem up and he lifted his arms to let me.

He was scarred. A long pale line ran under his ribs, and a rougher mark sat above his hip.

I put my mouth on the first one.

His breath hissed out. His hand went into my hair.

"Stephanie."

"You said yes."

"I did."

"Then stand there and let me."

He let me.

I took my time. I kissed down his stomach and felt the muscles pull tight under my lips.

I opened his belt and his jeans with steady hands, which surprised me. They hadn't been steady in a month.

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