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acquitted for the crimes he clearly committed. The lunatic managed to ransack both their homes and eventually came close to killing both Katy and Rafe.
    So if Rafe was a bit high strung when it came to Katy, he’d earned the right.
    At least that’s what Jenna had convinced herself of when she’d needed an explanation for the odd relationship her friend had with her fiancé. The important thing was they loved each other, and clearly Rafe made Katy very happy. Whatever weird things they seemed to communicate on the side weren’t affecting Katy’s happiness, so who was Jenna to judge?
     

Chapter Three
    Rafe pulled up in front of Jenna’s apartment and stared out the windshield. “This is it?” His voice was neither accusing nor condescending. She couldn’t quite read his tone. If he judged her, he would find his ass out on the street in an instant.
    “Yep. It’s home.” She took in his look as his face softened, and he smiled at her. Good. “You coming in?”
    Mason nodded. “If you’d like.” He removed his seatbelt, opened his door, and circled to her side so fast she couldn’t have gotten out by herself if she’d wanted to.
    “I can manage a door, you know,” she said as he reached for her arm and helped her out of the low-riding car.
    “I’m certain you can. But you shouldn’t have to.” He stated that as if it were obvious. A true man wouldn’t leave his woman to make her own way, even if she wasn’t his woman at all.
    A shiver went down her spine as he helped her to the house, her arm once again in the crook of his elbow. He seemed to like her there.
    When they reached the door, Jenna fumbled around in her purse looking for her keys. The second she pulled them out, Mason grabbed them and had the door unlocked and opened in seconds. He stepped inside and managed to flip the light switch next to the door without looking. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he’d been there dozens of times.
    Jenna moaned as she kicked off her heels and reached down to pick them up. “My feet were killing me,” she muttered over her shoulder as she headed for the kitchen. “You want a drink?”
    “Water would be nice.”
    “Water?” She chuckled as she opened the fridge and pulled out two bottles of water. She passed one to him, shocked at how close he was behind her when she turned around.
    “Thanks.” He casually leaned against her kitchen island.
    Why did she shatter into a million pieces in his presence while he seemed cool as a cucumber?
    “How long have you lived here?” He twisted off the cap and tipped his head back. As he took a long swallow, she watched his throat, her mouth going dry.
    He’s in my kitchen…in my home. And he’s crowding the entire space as though he doesn’t quite fit . She swallowed around her dry mouth, the water bottle still clutched in her hand. She couldn’t quite figure out how to open it and take a drink with him so close to her. “Almost two years.” She looked around, trying to see the place through his eyes while at the same time avoiding his penetrating gaze that made her heart beat out of her chest.
    She doubted she could possibly keep her promise to Katy now that he was in her apartment.
    The kitchen was quite tidy considering she hadn’t left the house this evening expecting to bring a man home. She couldn’t imagine what her bedroom looked like. The idea made her slump her shoulders.
    “How long have you owned your own shop?”
    “The same amount of time. Two years. I got this place the same week I opened the store. It’s just a mile away.” She stared at his chest and lifted her gaze to his face. Chiseled was the best word to describe him, and she wanted to know what those muscles felt like under her palms.
    Mason set his empty bottle on the counter behind him and tugged hers out of her grip. He twisted the cap off and handed it back to her at chest level. “Drink?”
    The way he said the word and his continual manner of high-handedness made