"But you can have a chance to make it up to me."

"By doing this?" Landon had her in his arms, his mouth finding hers. Their night apart had left them both restless, and she opened her mouth for him, moaning lightly when he deepened the kiss.

How was it possible? These moments, wrapped up in each other, were so easy. So complete.

But even they couldn't assuage the lack of sleep she'd seen in his eyes, or the fact that he refused to share the news of his visit to Harlow Reynolds. She'd given him plenty of opportunities, but he hadn't said a word.

Pushing the worries to the back of her mind once more, she concentrated on their kiss. On what was so good between them.

And when they both finally came up for air, Daphne had the fleeting thought that maybe this would be the year she'd blow off the Fourth of July party and stay home instead.

Who needed fireworks when a girl had Landon McGee?

But since she had a grudging fondness for her family and an innate desire to stay in their good graces, Daphne discarded skipping the party.

But a new idea took hold.

"I left one of the cases of beer in the fridge. Walk home with me to get it and then we'll Uber to my parents."

"Deal."

The walk from Tony and Stella's was a quick one, and in less than fifteen minutes they were at her front porch. "I was thinking about something."

"So was I," Landon said.

"Okay. You first."

"I was thinking about your mother's meatballs. You?"

"You do realize my mother is smiling right now for no apparent reason."

"That's the kind of guy I am." His smile faded. "What are you thinking about?"

She moved up into his arms, her hands settling on his waist, pressed against the soft cotton of his T-shirt. "I was just thinking there are better ways to spend the day. Parties can be so overrated."

"Well, well," his arms came around her, pulling her close. "Consider me impressed. First I find out you play bad cop. Now I find out you're willing to defy your mother, family tradition, and fireworks to spend the day in bed. I'm flattered."

A wash of disappointment flared over the heat generated by the press of his body against hers. "You're not tempted?"

"Oh, I'm always tempted. But I'm also pragmatic, and as much as I enjoy tasting you, I have to admit I would like to taste your mother's meatballs again."

"Sellout."

"Nah," he whispered against her lips before picking her up and carrying her inside. "Just a man of many varied tastes."

Eighteen.

Landon hip bumped the door closed behind him, then settled Daphne on her feet. He'd had some notion of carrying her to the bedroom and laying her down, but somewhere between the front lawn and the hallway he'd become ravenous. Greedy for her touch. And altogether desperate for her.

He'd headed to her brother's house as their intended meet-up spot for the party, convinced he'd washed away the restless night on the walk over. How disconcerting, to find she'd not only pegged him on it, but had given him an entirely new set of images to consider when he saw her interact with her nephew.

The idea of kids had always seemed distant, somehow. He wasn't with anyone, so he wasn't thinking about having kids. And then he'd seen her kissing and tickling Tyler and something inside had clicked. Turned over, really.

And in a heartbeat, he saw Daphne bent over their own kids, tickling and giggling and blowing raspberries.

How had this happened so fast?

And was he truly prepared to think that far into the future when the demons of his past still had the power to keep him up all night?

The heat of her body flanked his, the soft summer dress she wore already bunched in his hands as he dragged it up her body with mindless movements. He wanted her. All his questions had answers when they were together.

But most of all, he had peace.

With her, buried inside of her, everything else went away. He could shut out the noise and simply drift on the currents of pleasure.

"Landon!" Her breath came out on a whisper of surprise when he slipped a finger beneath the lacy edge of her panties and found her hot and wet for him. He felt her pulse beneath him and used his position to ruthlessly draw her up and into orgasm before she could take another breath. A sexy flush made its way down her neck and spread over her chest. He did that.

They did it together.

Like some erotic magic that required only two essential ingredients.

Him. Her.

He pushed her on, dragging more from her body, wringing out the pleasure drop by exquisite drop. She went limp in his arms, her knees buckling as she clutched him for support. And all the while, he knew she rode the wild power that gripped them both.

The hands that clutched his shoulders loosened slightly as she gazed up into his eyes. "Who are you?"

"I'm-" he broke off unsure of what to say. And then he pulled her close, stroking a hand down her hair as the other roamed over her back. "I'm the only one who matters right now."

"You're that, but you're so much more." She clutched at his shoulders once more, urgency rising in her motions. Her languid form quickly gained strength, her body pressed to his as she rose up on tiptoes to press her lips to his mouth. "You're the one, Landon McGee."

You're the one.

Had she just said that? Honestly and truly said it? On some level she'd known it. Sensed it from the first moment she'd laid eyes on him, those long legs sprawled out in front of him as he'd tapped away on his laptop.

He intrigued her. Captivated her.

And no matter how fast things had moved or how many ways she'd warned herself to slow down, nothing could truly stop a runaway train.

She loved Landon.

All of him, even the unknown.

She loved him. She wanted him. And in the wanting she'd just made herself more vulnerable and more emotionally naked than she'd ever been in her life.

He'd gone completely still and just stood there, his back to her door, her front pressed to his. They were half dressed, half naked, and late for a party.

And she still couldn't find one single ounce of regret for telling him what was in her heart.

"You know, that's funny . . ." His voice was low, husky with need and desire, but in the tones she heard something else.

Hope.

"What's funny?"

"It seems, despite having no clue how it happened, I think you're the one, too, Daphne Rossi." He kissed her, the movement full of promise. "I love you."

"I love you too."

His arms tightened around her. "That's a relief."

"Why's that?"

A wicked grin lit his eyes before traveling like quicksilver to his lips. "Because it means I can do this."

In one swift move, he had her up in his arms, his body positioned against hers. She wrapped her legs around him as she sheathed him inside of herself, the new angle adding pressure-and a delectable pleasure-she'd never felt before.

"Why do you keep picking me up?"

He shifted their positions and turned to put the door at her back for additional leverage. "So I can do things like this."

And then he began to move inside of her and their conversation simply seemed to float away. They didn't need it.

They only needed each other.

Cade walked the path from his parents' kitchen to the backyard for what had to be the hundredth time that morning. Every time he thought there couldn't be yet another job to complete for the party, his mother found one more item that needed his attention. Filling coolers with endless bags of ice. Helping with the three kegs that showed up. Tablecloths for the picnic tables, and lawn chairs dragged up from the basement and polished up to a high shine. He'd run in and out all morning, and not a single bit of it had put a dent in the crappy mood that had dogged him all week.

A mood that had one person solely responsible for it. Jasmine Shane.

He'd seen her a few nights this week, first at the End Zone and then Saturday night at a wine bar his date favored. He wasn't a big fan of wine, but since it had taken him several tries to connect with Bailey Anderson, he figured the woman had a right to pick the location. The date had started out fine, Bailey's bright smile and warm eyes suggesting he hadn't completely blown things with his prior cancelations and work schedule.

And then Jasmine had walked in. He didn't know the people she was with, but the mixed group of men and women appeared to land more on the friend spectrum than the date spectrum. Until some asshole with grabby hands had settled them all over her lower back.

Cade had done his level best to ignore it. Jasmine sure as hell didn't know he was there and, after all, Bailey had that look in her eyes. But despite his best efforts, Cade's gaze had traveled toward Jasmine's table repeatedly. And by the third glass of wine he'd given up any ability to pretend he was enjoying the date. The moment Bailey excused herself to the ladies' room, Cade walked over to Jasmine's table, more than willing to intrude on her evening with the grabby bastard.

"Right over there, Gardner."

The smoky voice that haunted his dreams floated from the direction of the back door, pulling him from memories of the last time he'd seen her. The instructions-and the name she used-had Cade's spine tightening. Speak of the damn she-devil. He turned just as a tall, elegant man slipped out the back door, a cooler easily balanced in his hands. Cade nodded once. "Cross."

"Detective." Gardner Cross nodded his perfectly coiffed head and shifted the cooler in lieu of a handshake. "Your parents are throwing a hell of a party."

"Glad you could make it." When hell freezes over. Cade ignored the jab to his ribs and kept his smile firm. "My mother isn't happy if we're not spilling over into the back alley."

"So I've heard. The Rossi Fourth of July party is legendary. I appreciate the invitation."

Cade shot a pointed stare at Jasmine over Gardner's bent head while he nestled the cooler among several others. Her gaze remained steady, but Cade didn't miss the slight grimace that marred her perfect lips.

And damn, when had he started noticing her lips?

This was Jaz, for cripe's sake. His sister's friend. Hell, she was his friend. So when had he woken up and realized she was also one of the most beautiful women of his acquaintance?

It was only after Gardner stood that she finally spoke. "We just wanted to run over the extra cooler for setup. We'll be back in a little while for the start of the party."

"Good. Great." Cade wanted to say something else, something along the lines of what the hell are you doing with this wanker, but he well knew Gardner Cross was anything but. A fast-rising star in the DA's office, Cross was making a mark, and he'd managed to do it in the good graces of the local cops. Cade knew him to be fair and balanced.

All in all, a perfect date for Jasmine.

He watched the easy way Gardner returned to Jasmine's side, the man's hand settling on her back. Worse, he watched the way she stood there, comfortable and at ease in another man's arms.

She deserved this, didn't she? Deserved someone who enjoyed her company and wanted to be with her? A soft smile tilted her lips as she gave Cade a small wave. "We'll be back in a bit."

Gardner did extend his hand then, the perfect gentleman, at ease in the moment. "We'll see you later, Detective."

"Count on it."

Cade stood there for long moments, staring at the back door yet not really seeing anything but her long legs beneath her shorts and the gentle swell of her breasts in a silky tank top. When had this happened?

The woman was in his blood. And for reasons that made no sense, what he usually managed to ignore-or at least leave on a slow simmer-had flashed over into a raw burn. And he had no idea how to turn it off.

"Hot hallway sex and meatballs. God, I am a lucky man." Landon whispered in her ear as they worked their way down the buffet line.

Daphne tried to swat at his shoulder but he moved out of the way on nimble feet.

"Landon-"

He appeared anything but remorseful as he glanced around the backyard. The promised horde of famiglia was in attendance, with food, conversation, and two wildly competitive games of bocci in high swing.

Her mother had even avoided mentioning their late arrival to the party.

Life was good.

She loved Landon. And he loved her.

Her parents had hosted their Fourth of July extravaganza since the year Daphne turned two. She couldn't remember ever not being in this place at this time every single year. Yet none of those parties-even the ones she'd brought a date to-could compare to this one.

She was in love.

Landon gazed toward the bocci tournament in progress, and she shooed him on. "Go give it a try."

"I'm miserable at bocci."