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“I’m well aware.”

“Just checking.”

Her answer was another kiss.

This one lacked the unhurried sweetness they’d shared outside. Her arms wrapped around his neck as he pulled her flush against him, savoring the feel of her body pressed to his after too many days of having to keep his distance.

They made it only a few steps toward the bedroom before his hip caught the edge of the dining table, nearly knocking over the vase of flowers in its center.

Her laughter interrupted the kiss. “Smooth, Sheriff.”

“I’m a little distracted.”

“So I noticed.” She grabbed the gift basket filled with intimate supplies.

Rather than risk breaking something, he caught her hand and led her the remaining few feet into the bedroom.

Soft light from the other room spilled through the doorway as she stopped beside the bed and turned to face him. The amusement in her expression gave way to something that made him forget the collision with the table.

When she reached for the hem of his shirt, he lifted his arms and let her pull it over his head. The garment landed somewhere behind him, forgotten the moment her palms swept over his bare skin.

God, he'd missed having her hands on him.

He returned the favor, drawing her shirt over her head before pulling her against him for another kiss. The rest of their clothes came off between kisses, wandering hands, and the occasional laugh when something refused to cooperate. By the time they were naked, her ponytail had come loose, and his pulse was pounding.

He kissed her again, then guided her backward until the bed stopped her.

She climbed onto the mattress and held out her hand. He took it and followed her down, stretching out beside her on the king-size bed.

The cottage was smaller than his house, but there was something appealing about being here with her, away from town and the responsibilities that usually demanded his attention. Beyond the windows, the Wyoming countryside stretched into darkness. For tonight, they had the cottage to themselves, with no interruptions to worry about.

Amanda rolled toward him, her hair fanning across the pillow, and reached past him to the nightstand where she'd set the gift basket. She pulled it between them, the cellophane rustling, and gave him a mischievous grin.

“Our friends have interesting taste.”

Grady propped himself on one elbow and inspected the contents. Along with the condoms were a small bottle of massage oil, a feather tickler he decided to ignore for now, and several chocolate-covered strawberries.

He picked up the oil. “This feels like a suggestion.”

“A very specific suggestion.”

She took the bottle from him and uncapped it. The scent of vanilla and what he thought might be sandalwood filled the space between them. She poured a little into her palm, rubbed her hands together, and pressed them against his chest. Her palms glided over his skin as she began massaging him, and he relaxed beneath her touch.

For a while, he was content to let her take charge, enjoying the attention and the pleasure she seemed to find in touching him.

Eventually, he caught her hands and drew her closer for a kiss.

“My turn,” he murmured, reaching for the oil.

He poured some oil into his palm and rubbed his hands together, spreading it over his fingers before placing them against her shoulders. Taking his time, he massaged his way down her arms, then back up to her collarbones and upper chest.

From there, his hands moved lower, over the curve of her breasts, her ribs, and the flat plane of her stomach. Amanda relaxed beneath his touch, clearly enjoying the attention, and he was more than happy to oblige.

By the time he reached her thighs, she was trembling, her hands fisted in the bedding, and when he finally touched her where she needed him most, she cried out, her hips lifting off the mattress.

He slid one, then two fingers in her tight depths, pumping them in and out. He kept a steady rhythm, watching her, until she was panting, her skin flushed, her eyes dark and unfocused.

“Grady.” His name on her lips, raw and desperate, broke the last of his control. He reached for a condom from the basket, sheathed himself with hands that weren't quite steady, and settled between her legs.