“Kelly’s home. I’m driving,” he said, no room for argument in the claim. Neck stiff, head heavy with the remains of unsettling dreams, Pepper didn’t argue. She slurred a farewell to Kelly and allowed Mitch to lead the way to her car. He touched her freely. The heat of his palm at the small of her back, at her waist, on her elbow, all spoke of territorial claim. That heat helped shake her from the fog brought on by sporadic bouts of sleep. At the car, he stood beside the open passenger door while she buckled her seat belt. Pepper tipped her head back to meet his eyes. “How is this supposed to work if you’re my lover instead of my brother? What happens on holiday weekends? At barbeques where everybody I’ve ever known notices the way you look at me?” He closed one hand around the edge of the car door and rested the other on the roof. The posture stretched his olive t-shirt tight.
