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"There's the beautiful Mountie who always gets her man."
That voice! That sexy, half-mocking, gorgeous, friendly voice. Megan Sullivan searched the crowd waiting outside the baggage claim area for its owner. His long legs clad in trademark denim, Ryan Porter stood in the middle of the concourse, his mouth pulled up on one side in the grin that caused her knees to wobble every single time.
Pulling her biggest suitcase behind her and wrestling with the carry-on she'd balanced on top of it, she battled her way through the throng and hurried toward him.
Once she rounded the barrier, he wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her off the ground in a full-body hug. "Hey, you. I've missed you."
Ignoring the amused spectators, Ryan lowered his head to capture her mouth with his. Pure male confidence, shouting to the world, "Yeah, she's mine," came through loud and clear from the hard press of his lips to the way his hands kneaded her ass.
When he finally pulled away, both of them breathless, Meg left her arms hooked around his neck, loving the feel of his body against hers. Her clit pulsed, needing to be touched by his long callused fingers. Her pussy heated and her nipples ached in anticipation of his mouth on them.
"That wasn't an I've-missed-you kiss." It had been a full-blown I-want-inside-you kiss.
"No, it wasn't just an I've-missed-you kiss," he corrected.
She rested her forehead against his chest, the long-seated loneliness that had plagued her up north finally leaching away. "I thought you were supposed to be in Montreal until tomorrow."
"Are you kidding? And waste even one day with you?"
Meg's breath stuttered when he cupped her head and kissed her again, this time softer, sweeter, showing none of the blatant possessiveness of the first kiss. This one whispered of need and desire. "I love you, Meg."
"I love you too." She loved the way he kissed, the way he felt against her, the way he made her feel feminine instead of the hard-ass bitch she'd been called far too often on the job. She loved the way he smelled of sawdust and... She leaned in and sniffed him deeper. "Why do you smell like roses?"
"Because Amy's into her nesting phase." His grimace and fake shudder made her laugh. "She's making homemade soaps and shampoos, claiming they'll be safer for the baby. So naturally she's using us as her guinea pigs. Her latest batch is some hippy-dippy rose petal shampoo so me and Derek and Noah all smell girly-girl. I tell ya, pregnant women are seriously dangerous to us guys." He dipped his head to whisper in her ear, his russet hair tickling her nose. "I'll pay you to convince her to make something more manly."
"You mean like new car scent or burnt motor oil?"
"Yeah, now you're talking." He rounded his free hand as if there were a basketball in front of his stomach. The laughter made his amber eyes almost glow though others might have blamed it on the bright sunshine streaming through the glass roof. "Wait'll you see her. She's out to here. Derek won't let her get behind the wheel anymore, she's gotten so big."
"I can't wait to see her again." Amy had been her roommate in college and they'd become fast friends. When Amy had started dating Derek, Megan had found herself on a double date with Derek's older brother Ryan. Though she'd expected to be bored when she'd learned Ryan was an artist, she'd been fascinated by his energy. After spending the night debating movies (he preferred art house movies where she loved action) and music (they both loved the same groups), he'd asked her for another date. Three months later, he'd asked her to move in with him.