not interested in talking just now,” he growled. Then he kissed her.
After a stunned intake of breath and a brief hesitation, she let go of the bakery sack, letting it drop to the ground. She twined her arms his neck and kissed him back.
When Rafe finally released her, she blinked a couple of times. “Why did you do that?”
“I wanted to see if you taste as good as I remembered.” For good measure, he kissed her again. “You do.”
With her eyes unfocused, her skin flushed, and her lips open a fraction, she looked thoroughly aroused. Sweet Jeezus, she was sexy. He was going in for more when she pushed hard against his chest with her palms.
“Stop it, Rafe.” Her gaze had become razor-sharp, and displeasure turned her lush mouth down at the corners.
Clueless as to what had just happened, he eyed her. “What’d I do?”
“I don’t hear from you for over a week, not even a text. Then I accidentally run into you. You say you want to talk, but instead you drag me out back and kiss me? I don’t think so.”
Her enthusiastic response belied her words, but he wasn’t fool enough to point that out. “I haven’t been in touch because I’ve been trying to stay away from you,” he explained.
That was true. He wanted her in a way he hadn’t wanted in woman in a long time. Ever. That scared him.
“Then why did you kiss me?”
“Because when I’m around you, it’s all I think about.” And also when he wasn’t with her. This past week, he’d thought of little else.
Her exhale was pure scorn. “If you were the tiniest bit interested in me, you’d call or email or text. You’d ask me out.”
While he worked out how to respond, she dropped a zinger. “I wouldn’t go out with you anyway. I’m not interested.”
He wasn’t used to hearing that. “You kiss like you are.” He ran his thumb over her lower lip. Her pupils dilated, and her mouth relaxed into fullness. Satisfied, he grinned. “You want me, all right.”
She batted his hand away. “That has nothing to do with it.”
She’d totally lost him. He gave her a sideways look. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s simple. I want to have a baby.”
Say what? Rafe stepped back. “Not with me, you don’t. I like you, and I’m attracted as hell to you, but I’m not nearly ready to be a dad. I’m not sure I ever will be.”
Her eyes sparked with anger. “Of all the cocky… I don’t want to have a baby with you. We don’t know each other well enough to even consider it. I just thought you should know I’m looking for a man who’s ready to settle down, get married, and start a family.”
The statement stunned him. “The other day, when I mentioned my mom and how she never married because she didn’t want to be under any man’s thumb, you said you understood.”
“I do, but I don’t necessarily agree with her.”
He put both hands up, palms out, and stepped back. “I’m not the marrying kind.”
“I know. You’re a stud.”
“The guys only call me that because they know it bugs me.”
“All I know is, what you want and what I want are two different things. That rules you out for me.”
“You got that right.” Rafe couldn’t get away from Jillian and her need to get married and procreate fast enough. “You dropped your cinnamon rolls.” He scooped her bakery bag from the pavement and handed it to her.
He didn’t draw a normal breath until they turned in opposite directions and went their separate ways.
*
As the first pottery class wound down Monday evening, Jillian mentally swiped her brow. So far, so good.
The six pottery novices sitting at the studio worktable, all female, ranged in age from about thirty to sixty-something. Tonight’s session had been devoted to the basics—working with clay and getting familiar with the potter’s wheel, and they seemed to be enjoying themselves.
With less than thirty minutes remaining, it was time to field any final questions.
Patty, a self-described middle-aged