She got up and went into the kitchen.

What the hell was he doing? He liked that she’d spent time with his mother. Liked that she was already close with his sister-in-law and brother too. They all seemed to like her as much as he did. Though right then they might have been preferable to her than the dumb-ass way he was acting.

He followed, pulling her into his arms from behind. “I’m sorry. Really. I don’t know why I reacted that way.”

She turned to him, and the look in her eyes sliced through him. Was this how the ex had been?

“Shall I tell you why I think you acted that way?”

“After I kiss you.” He slid a thumb over her bottom lip. “If that’s okay with you?”

She nodded, and he took her mouth, her taste settling in, calming, soothing, clearing up all the static. She was home.

“That’s so much better. Now, do enlighten me on why you think I reacted like a cock.”

She smirked, and they both felt better. “You’re afraid of showing the best part of yourself and having them reject it. You’re Cope, the pretty boy. Cope, the easygoing brother who always shows up to help someone move, the guy who flirts with everything with a vagina and br**sts. That’s easy. Who can hate that guy? So you f**ked around with women you didn’t really even like. It was easier that way to walk away and keep it all about sex. And who can say anything about it? You’re charmingly up-front, and these women can’t seem to get enough of it.

“But you’re so much more than that. You’re a man who can make art from wood. A man who can take pen and paper and draw the heart of a woman.” She sifted her fingers through his hair. “It’s easy to be Cope. But it’s intimate to be Andrew. You’re exposing yourself in a way that could be terribly painful if people don’t react the way they should.”

“What do you know about that?” He didn’t say it to be hostile, but it rankled that she saw him so clearly, even as it brought him to his knees to be known so well.

“I know that I lived on autopilot for years. I got up; I survived the day. I slept and got up to start over. I know that it’s the people closest to you who can do the most damage. I know that love and trust go hand in hand. I also know that your brother, your mother, your sister-in-law and your friends love you. I know I’d never do anything on purpose that would bring you pain. Not ever.”

He hugged her. “Are you saying my heart is safe with you?”

“Yes.”

“I like it that you hang out with my family. I like that we’re all part of the same group of friends. Obviously I don’t want that stuff I told you about my dad to get shared with my mother, but Ben already knows. I ended up telling him after he pestered me relentlessly about it.”

She sent him a raised brow. “You can’t avoid it forever.”

“I can start with not wanting to talk about it now.”

She snorted. “You’re lucky you have such nice hair,” she muttered.

“I am?” He kissed her neck, and she didn’t push him away. “Even when I’m a total ass**le?”

She laughed. “Andrew Copeland, you’re a pissy butthead sometimes, yes. But you’re not an ass**le. Believe me.”

“Even if I say I’d really love to have sex with you right now? And it’s my turn.”

She laughed again. “You always say it’s your turn.” She tipped her head back, allowing him access to her neck.

“Do I? I should be disciplined, don’t you think?”

“Sure. No sex for you. That’ll teach you.”

“Hmpf. I vote no.”

He danced her toward the bed, pulling at her sweater and T-shirt as he did.

“You’re still my favorite Copeland. Just in case you were wondering.”

He straddled her body after he’d peeled her clothes off. “This is good to know. Because I’m the only Copeland who gets to look at these every day.” He dipped down to swipe his tongue over first the right nipple and then the left.

“Erin would probably frown on me showing my br**sts to Ben, yes. Though I haven’t consulted with her on this point. However, hers are so gargantuan right now, I’m not sure it’s much of a fair comparison.”

God, she was pretty. Running his hands all over her body, he marveled in her, the shape and feel of her body—curves, sharp lines and muscle—against him, beneath him. She looked up at him the whole time, those sexy green eyes half-lidded, burning for him. That secret self only he saw, opened up like a flower.

The change when she let her sensual self take over was incredible. Her movements slowed down, her voice lowered, she even smelled warm, like honey, sticky-sweet. She was only this way with him. She didn’t need to hold back, and she knew it.

That she knew he was different and opened up made him feel like a rock star. Made him feel worthy in ways he’d never imagined before.

He moved, sitting and helping her onto his lap. Laughing, she helped get pillows behind his back, and before he knew it, she had him suited up and was sliding herself down over his cock, her body settling around him, driving him mad with the heat, the tight caress of her flesh against his.

“I’m pretty sure it’s actually my turn,” she murmured as she rose and fell over him.

“Whichever. Whatever. You’re on me, I’m in you, that’s what matters.”

She managed to open her eyes to meet his gaze, that connection clicking into place all the way down to her toes.