He went into the dining room and sat at the table. She came out a few minutes later bearing two plates, which she laid down, then came back with two glasses of water.

  “I took your advice and dumped the coffee when I saw that my hands were shaking. You’re right about the caffeine. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “The food will probably help. Come sit down next to me.”

  “Okay. You smell amazing, by the way.”

  He smiled at that and refused to attribute her comment to excess caffeine.

  They dove into the food and Owen had to admit he was grateful Honor had made sandwiches. He was starving. He’d had a salad earlier in the evening, but that had been a while ago. The nice thick turkey and ham and bacon club, along with the sides of sliced carrots and apples, was perfect.

  He was happy to see that Honor ate as well, though she only finished off half her sandwich and nibbled at her carrots and apples. But at least she got some food in her.

  “This is really good. Thanks for making food for me.”

  “You’re welcome. Thanks for coming over.”

  He took several swallows of his water and leaned back in his chair. “So why the invite? Were you lonely here in this big ole house?”

  “No, not really. Okay, maybe. I guess after the big extravaganza of the wedding tonight, with all the people and all the craziness that went on, after everyone left and it was just me it felt, I don’t know . . .”

  “Too quiet?”

  She nodded. “Yes. And I was wound up and couldn’t sleep and I needed . . . you.”

  That was a direct hit, winding around his midsection like a hard punch. “All you ever have to do is ask and I’ll be here for you, Honor.”

  “So I see. Thank you for that. I felt kind of bad, figuring you’d be tired when you got off work.”

  “I’m usually wound up from work, too. And it was hectic tonight. With it being spring and Friday night, we were crowded from open to close. I don’t think I sat down once. I even ate my salad behind the bar.”

  “Aww. That’s a long night. You probably need a back massage.”

  He let out a short laugh. “Yeah, I should probably have a masseuse on speed dial.”

  “I’ve been known to give excellent back massages. And foot massages. My sisters can attest to that.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Yes. Do you trust me?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Okay. Come up to my bedroom and take off your shirt.”

  “Sure.” That was an invitation he wasn’t about to turn down. They took the dishes into the kitchen, rinsed them and put them in the dishwasher, and then he followed Honor upstairs to her bedroom.

  “Shirt off,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”

  While she stepped out, he pulled his shirt off and laid it over the chair in the corner of her room, suddenly feeling weirdly naked, even though he still had his jeans and boots on. Since he was probably going to be lying on her bed, he decided to take his boots off. He was sitting on the edge of her bed slipping off his boots when she came back in.

  “Hey, cowboy,” she said. “I didn’t say get naked.”

  He laughed. “Just taking my boots off since I figured I’d be on your bed.”

  “Oh. Okay.”

  He stood. “Besides. You’ve already seen me naked. Allegedly.”

  Her gaze traveled the length of him, then back up again. “Right.” She cleared her throat and pulled the pillows off her bed, then threw the sheet she’d brought in over it. “Okay, face down.”

  He lay down on his stomach and turned his head to watch as she stepped into the bathroom. She looked hot as hell in her tank top and pink polka dot pajama bottoms, and when she got up and came toward him, he couldn’t help but notice the outline of her nipples pressing against the white material of her tank top.

  Dammit, he was trying to be good. It didn’t help that Honor could tempt a saint. And he was no saint.

  And then she climbed onto the bed and straddled him.

  “Is this okay?”

  He wanted to groan, but he bit it back. “It’s fine. Great.”

  “If I had a massage table I wouldn’t have to do this, but it makes it easier to really lean into your back.”

  “Right. Sure. No problem.” Except she was sitting on his ass, and he was conjuring up all kinds of scenarios where she’d lean her body against him, rubbing her tight nipples over his back.

  Great. And now he was getting hard. Good thing he was facedown.

  “I’m going to pour some oil on your back. It’s unscented and vegan, so it shouldn’t bother your skin.”

  “Go for it.”

  She did, and after the oil came her hands. Warm, soft, gently sliding between his shoulder blades and over the top of his back. He closed his eyes and focused on her movements, the way she seemed to find each tight muscle and ease the tension away.

  There was something about her touch that he connected to. He’d had massages before. His oncologist had told him that it would be good therapy for him, to help him relax, so he’d tried it a few times. It had been nice, therapeutic even, but nothing like the way it felt to be touched by Honor.

  Maybe it was because he was emotionally connected to her, that having her hands on him meant something to him.

  “Feel good?” she asked.

  “Really good.”

  “Are those muscles starting to loosen?”

  Some of them, while others were rock hard and throbbing. “Yeah. Great.”

  It didn’t help that she was moving against him—no, she was rocking against him, and all he could picture was him flipped over, both of them naked and his cock buried inside her while she made those same sweeping back-and-forth motions while her sweet hands swept all over his chest.

  You’re never going to be able to roll over with your current boner situation, dumbass.

  Okay, fine. Instead, he thought about something a lot less pleasant. Hard to do with her hands on him, but he maneuvered his mental visuals into scrubbing toilets at the bar.

  That did the trick.

  “You’re frowning. Am I hurting you?”

  He popped his eyes open. She had leaned over to look at him.

  “Not exactly.”

  “Then what’s wrong?”

  “You’re touching me. My dick’s hard. So I’m trying to think about other, less pleasant things.”

  “Really. Like what?”

  “Cleaning toilets.”

  She laughed. “Gross. But I imagine that’s effective.”

  “Like you wouldn’t believe.”

  She continued to work her fingertips along his spine. “You know, tensing up like this is counterproductive to my efforts to relax you.”

  “I’m totally relaxed.”

  She swiped his back with a towel. “Are you, though? Maybe we should find other ways to relax your muscles.”

  He rolled over, holding on to her so she stayed where she was. Now she straddled his hips. “Got any ideas?”

  He squeezed her hips, feeling her soft flesh through the thin material of her pajamas. “I could fill a book with the ideas I have.”

  She leaned forward, lengthening her body on top of his. “Let’s start at chapter one, then.”

  Her hair had fallen forward, so he tucked it behind her ears. “I thought we were going to be hands off.”

  “Yeah, about that. I’ve been thinking that maybe we should give the whole ‘hands on’ thing a try.”

  “Oh, yeah? What made you decide that?”

  “You’re on my mind a lot, so as long as you’re there, we might as well start up something and see where it goes. What do you think?”

  He cupped his hand behind her neck and brought her face close to his. “I think I’m game if you are.”

  Their lips met, and with her body on his, it felt like he’d been thrown into a volcano, every part of him sizzling with heat. She moved against him, her tongue twining with his, her hands exploring, and that was all he could take. He grabbed hold of her and flipped her so she was on her back. Now he could grind against all those hot, soft parts of her, making her moan and squirm against him.

  He lifted his head, staring down at her as he slid his hand underneath her tank top, gauging whether she would put a halt to it this time.

  She didn’t, so he continued his trek upward, enjoying the feel of her as he crept along her stomach toward her rib cage, pausing just underneath her breasts.

  “You sure?” he asked, wanting to know for certain that this was where she wanted to go.

  She nodded and propped one arm under her head. “Absolutely certain that I like where you’re going.”

  His lips curved, so he cupped her breast, teasing the soft nipple until it hardened. He grasped the hem of her tank top and started to lift.

  And then he heard the door close downstairs. Honor heard it, too.

  “Dammit,” she said, scrambling out from underneath him. “I’ll be right back.”

  He grabbed her arm. “You will not. What if it’s a burglar? I’ll go down.”

  “No. It’s probably Brenna.”

  He looked at his phone. “It’s one thirty in the morning, Honor.”

  “So? She’s probably up late and needs something from the fridge or pantry.”

  “I don’t care who you think it is. I’m not letting you go down there alone.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Fine. But if it’s Brenna, I’ll deal with her.”

  “Okay.”

  He put his T-shirt on and slid into his boots, then crept down the stairs, hearing the noises coming from the kitchen. Honor was behind him.

  “Burglars don’t make sandwiches in the kitchen,” she whispered. “They go for the TVs and laptops.”

  He still wanted to check it out, so he put his finger to his lips to keep her quiet, then walked stealthily down the hall. He saw a faint light and when he peeked around the corner, he found Brenna’s fiancé, Finn, standing there.

  Finn noticed them as well, making a sharp turnaround with a knife in his hand. He put it down as soon as he recognized Owen.

  “Jesus Christ, you scared the hell out of me,” Finn said. “I was hungry. We’re out of lunchmeat, so I came over here to make a roast beef sandwich.”

  “Which is totally fine,” Honor said. “I figured it was Brenna. Or you. No big deal.”

  Finn leaned against the kitchen counter and took a bite of his sandwich, chewing thoughtfully before asking Owen, “Having a sleepover?”

  “No one was sleeping.”

  Finn snorted out a laugh.

  “You cannot tell Brenna about this,” Honor said.

  “Ah, I don’t keep secrets from her, Honor. You know that.”

  “Well, you’re going to have to keep this one, Finn. I haven’t talked to her about . . . and I haven’t discussed this with Erin and . . . you see, some things happened and I just don’t know how . . .”

  “It’s complicated, man,” Owen said. “Can you keep a lid on it, just for a while?”

  Finn shrugged, wrapped his sandwich in a paper towel and headed toward the back door. “Sure. You two have fun. Night.”

  He closed the door behind him. Honor’s exhale was loud.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  She dragged her fingers through her hair. “Yes. Fine. No, I’m not fine.”

  “Hey, Finn promised he wouldn’t say anything to Brenna. His word is gold.”

  “I know. It’s just . . . like you said—complicated.”

  “Yeah.”

  She walked over to him and pressed herself against him. “I’m sorry that it has to be complicated.”

  He wrapped his arms around her. “That’s okay. We’ll figure it out together.”

  She stayed there like that, with him holding her, for a few minutes before pulling back. “Thanks for saying that.”

  He knew right then that they weren’t going back upstairs, which was probably the right thing to do, even if it was frustrating. It seemed like every time they got together and primed and the engines started, something threw a wrench in and mucked things up.

  Not everything was going to be perfect. But Honor was worth waiting for.

  “I should go.”

  She tilted her head back. “I’m sorry.”

  “Nothing to be sorry about. I had a great massage. We’ll continue the rest another time.”

  She walked him to the door. “I’ll see you soon?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good night, Owen.”

  “Night, Honor.”

  He walked out and got in his truck, watching as she closed the door and turned out the porch light. He lingered as he watched the downstairs lights go out, then the ones upstairs, until the only light remaining was the one in her bedroom. That one stayed on, so he drove away, wondering what she was doing, what she was thinking about.

  Hopefully, she was thinking about him, because he was definitely going to be thinking about her on the drive back home.

  CHAPTER

  ten

  HONOR KNEW THAT appointments at the cancer center were probably routine for Owen.

  But for her, this was new, and a whole lot of scary.

  She’d met him at his house and they’d driven into the city together. Owen suggested that they go to breakfast after his appointment. She’d told him that sounded great, though she had no idea how he could be so cavalier about the whole thing. And maybe that was his way of dealing with what, to her, was a big damn deal.

  It had only been two years since his diagnosis. She knew that to be considered officially cancer free, you had to hit the five-year mark. Which meant that every visit to the oncologist had to be nerve-racking.

  You know you’re here to support him, not the reverse, right?

  Good reminder.

  As they walked up to the building, she turned to him. “I did some research into the center, and your doctor,” she said. “Quite impressive and very state-of-the-art in terms of treatment programs.”

  “Is that right?”

  “You didn’t research it?”

  “Not really. My primary care physician recommended this place, so I came here.”

  “Owen. Seriously?”

  “At the time I was kind of in a fog, trying to process the diagnosis. And I trust my doctor, so I figured he wasn’t going to send me to a place that sucked.”

  She blew out a breath. “Well, obviously it turned out well. You’re healthy.”

  “Hell yeah, I am. Fingers crossed it stays that way.”

  Honor knew it would take a lot more than crossing fingers to keep Owen in a healthy state.

  He signed in at the front desk and was given an ID bracelet, then sent to the lab. Honor followed and waited outside the lab while he had his blood drawn, and then he led her to the coffee shop, which was actually quite substantial and fancy. There were coffees and teas and all kinds of baked goods. Honor definitely approved.

  “It’ll take a while for the lab work to process, and my doctor won’t call me in until he gets the results. So we have time. What would you like?”

  “An iced coffee sounds good. With cream, please.”

  Owen ordered their coffees, and once the barista fixed them, they took their drinks and sat outside in a beautiful courtyard filled with all kinds of stonework and incredible greenery. It was very zen.

  “Do you ever get nervous?” she asked after she took a few sips of her exceptionally excellent iced coffee.

  “About what? This?”

  “Yes.”

  “No. There’s no point in getting nervous about something I have no control over. I try to eat well. I exercise regularly. But the cancer that was inside me? I had zero control over that, so why get nervous about it? It’s either gone, or it’ll recur. In the meantime, I’m just going about my business, living my life.”

  She loved his healthy outlook. “It’s a good philosophy. I know a lot of people who would be afraid to put one foot in front of the other for fear of making the wrong move.”

  He lifted a shoulder and took a long swallow of his coffee. “We only get one shot at this. Might as well live it up, right?”

  “You mean take a few shots of tequila every now and then?”

  He laughed. “Yeah. You never know who you’ll wake up with the next the morning.”

  They finished up their coffee and then headed upstairs, where they sat in an oversized waiting area. There were a couple televisions and lots of very comfortable couches and chairs, and unfortunately, way too many people waiting to be called by their doctors.

  That was the problem. Too many people fighting cancer, and Honor felt for every single one of them.

  She hated this disease that took people of all ages without prejudice—only malice and intent to kill.

  She blew out a breath.

  “Are you nervous?” Owen asked.

  “No, of course not. Just looking around and feeling . . .” She couldn’t figure out the words.

  “Yeah, it sucks to be a part of this club that no one wanted to join.”

  She reached over and took his hand in hers. He squeezed her fingers.

  “Owen Stone?”

  Honor looked up to see a small woman standing there with a clipboard.

  “That’s Corinne,” Owen said, standing and pulling Honor up. “She’s Dr. Pane’s nurse. Come on.”

  She followed Owen while he chatted amiably with Corinne, asking about her three-year-old son. Corinne weighed Owen at the station, then walked them back into a private room where she took all his vitals and asked routine questions about medications.

  She smiled at him and at Honor. “Dr. Pane will be in shortly.”

  “Thanks, Corinne.”

  The door closed and Honor looked around. She didn’t know what she expected, but it was a typical doctor’s exam room, with a wall desk, an exam table and a couple of chairs, along with a few innocuous pictures on the wall.