Jake nodded sullenly, and Gerard hauled him to his feet and led him to the door. “Save me a dance, Jess,” he said, grinning.

Right. There was dancing. The DJ put on a slow song—“Angel” by Dave Matthews—and couples began drifting out to the dance floor.

Connor was still bristling with anger.

“Come on, Connor, let’s dance.” She took his hand and pulled him to the middle of the gym. Put her hand on his shoulder, feeling the heat and hard muscle there. “That was really unnecessary,” she said.

“I just defended your honor. Thanks would be nice.” He wasn’t looking at her, but his hand was on her waist, making her breath catch a little.

“My honor is beyond defending.” His lip was bleeding. Just a little. She wiped it away with her fingertip. “I can handle the idiots, you know.”

His blue eyes dropped to meet hers. Then he kissed her.

Aside from Dave Matthews, it sure was quiet all of a sudden.

Well, there went the whole secret thing. She almost cared.

Connor was kissing her. She tasted a little wine, and maybe a little blood, and his mouth was firm and hot and he was a little mad, and the kiss wasn’t gentle. It was a statement of possession, and her insides pulled in a strong, hot squeeze.

He broke the kiss, then rested his forehead against hers.

Her heart was shuddering. Legs shaking.

“I’m going to make your brother love me,” he said, and she laughed, because it was just not what she expected him to say. “I mean it, Jess. And you’re gonna let me. I love you. I don’t want to be apart anymore. I—”

“Okay, fine, you win,” she said shakily. “Don’t make yourself look any more ridiculous than you already have.”

He kissed her again, more gently this time, and her fingers found their way into his thick, wavy hair. “You’re not easy, Jessica Dunn,” he murmured against her mouth. “You are not easy.”

“Actually, I am. That’s the problem.”

He looked so sure, but her worries were already off to the races. What would happen when they were really together, and there was no chase anymore, and their everyday lives consisted of Davey and work and things like furnaces breaking and needing a new car? What would happen when he actually had her?

“Stop worrying so much,” he whispered. He pulled her closer, going for the eighth-grade shuffle, and the feeling of his warm, hard body pressed against hers, slightly sweaty from the fight, made her insides light up in flashes.

Connor let his hand drop to just above her ass. “If I’d known a punch in the mouth would get me to this moment,” he murmured, “I would’ve had Colleen hit me a long time ago.”

* * *

CONNOR LEANED AGAINST the brick wall of his old high school, waiting for Jess to make the call. The reunion was over; Connor was thanked and congratulated by quite a few classmates for beating the snot out of Jake, who’d always been a complete turd of a human.

“You kids have a fun night,” Colleen said, lifting an eyebrow. I told you she was the one.

It’s not like it’s news, Dog-Face.

“Nice job beating on the little shit,” Lucas said.

Connor nodded. His knuckles stung. He didn’t mind a bit.

But now he was going to take his woman home and make love to her.

Finally.

Jessica was talking on her phone. “So you sure you don’t mind? I’ll be back by... Yes. Uh, yeah. How did you... Oh. Gotcha. All right. Thanks, Ned.”

She clicked off her phone and slid it into her purse. “We’re not quite the secret I thought we were,” she said.

“Sneaking around had its moments,” he said. Had. He was done with that.

She nodded. Didn’t say anything else.

Shy again. After all these years, even though it was only him.

“You want to walk home, Jess?”

“Okay.”

He offered his hand, and after a second’s hesitation, she took it. “Connor—”

“No more rules, Jess. No more lists. Okay? Let’s just be together.” He kissed her hand and started walking.

The town was quiet, and they didn’t talk. He couldn’t remember being happier, but she was nervous, holding his hand a little too tightly, not looking at him.

They came to the Village, and rather than cut across the green, he steered her toward the little park at the foot of the lake. Since the town rolled up the sidewalks by eleven, it was quiet now, just a few customers still in O’Rourke’s. The leaves of the maples sighed in the breeze, and a night bird called, then was silent.

Jess reached down and slipped off her shoes and took a few steps out onto the dock. Her white dress glowed in the moonlight, and she didn’t say anything as she looked out at the lake.

She was still nervous. It was oddly flattering.

He followed her out onto the dock, put his arms around her and pulled her back against his chest. Didn’t say anything, just breathed in the clean smell of her hair.

More than anything, he wanted to reassure her that everything would be all right. Wanted to tell her how beautiful she was, that he’d take care of her and never let her down, that she could trust him.

He kissed her neck instead, and rested his forehead on her shoulder.

“I forgot to ask,” she said. “Did you talk to anyone about your brewery tonight?”

“No.”

“Why? Tiffy Ames is—”

“Because I could only think about you.”

She turned to face him, her expression unreadable in the moonlight. An owl called from not too far away.

Her mouth was soft and sweet under his, and he cupped her head with both hands and kissed her until she was melted against him, her arms around his neck, her fingers in his hair, and when a little moan came from her throat, it almost felled him.

“Let’s go home,” he said, and she nodded.

His house didn’t feel so generic with her in it. The second the door was closed, he kissed her again, pushing her against the wall, lust tearing through him. Go slow, go slow, the last thinking part of his brain said, and he tried. Sort of. He failed.

He was starving for her, and she wasn’t pulling any punches, either. Mouth, tongue, teeth, all in a greedy feast of flesh. She wasn’t being sweet now, no, sir, and thank God for that. She shoved his jacket off, yanked his shirt out of his waistband and slid her cool hands up his hot sides, then went to the button of his pants.

He stopped her, pinning her hands by the sides of her face, and lowered his mouth to her neck. God, she tasted good, so many layers of flavor, the lemony soap, a hint of perfume, the taste of her skin itself. He released her hands and slid them down her sides, then up her front to cup her breasts. No bra, God, thank you. His thumbs teased over her nipples, and she bit down on his lip, reminding him of the hit he’d taken there earlier. Then her mouth opened and their tongues slid together, and his thigh was between hers, pressing hard, her dress riding up, and he was practically blind with lust now, just flares of light and the feeling of Jessica.

“Take your hair down,” he rasped, and she stepped away from him and reached to the back of her head. Her hair slid down around her shoulders, swinging, catching the faint light from the street.

Then she reached down, grabbed the hem of her dress and pulled it over her head in one glorious move.