by Meg Bawden
We headed toward the island counter, and I gestured for him to sit on a stool as I opened one of the higher cupboards. I didn’t have much in terms of food in there, mostly because I preferred to get takeout delivered. I couldn’t cook to save my life.
I looked at the bottles of alcohol, my gaze zeroing in on the whiskey. I should have thrown it out ages ago, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it, even if it made me remember things I didn’t want to. Dad.
I pushed it toward the back and grabbed some vodka instead, flashing the bottle of Grey Goose at him.
Grayson’s lips quirked.
“Let me guess, I look like a vodka sort of guy?”
Winking at him, I grabbed some tumblers. “You said it, not me.”
He nodded toward the alcohol. “Is there Coke to go with that?”
“What kind of savage do you take me for?” I sat the tumblers down and filled them half full of vodka. Grayson raised an eyebrow at me.
“Are you trying to get me intoxicated, Mr. Scott?”
“Depends. How are you when you’re drunk?”
“You won’t get me into your bed. I’m a sleepy drunk.” He laughed quietly.
“Not the way I’d enjoy, at any rate. I want you wide-awake.” I snatched two cans of Coke out of the double-doored stainless steel fridge and poured what I could into the glasses. I slid his closer to him and then held up mine. “Cheers.”
We clinked the tumblers lightly. “Cheers.” As soon as he took a sip, he grimaced. “Damn. That’s strong.”
“How I like it.” I chuckled and then swallowed half of my drink. It burned the entire way down my throat and settled in my gut. Perfect after a long day at work. Fuck, that was good.
“So what’s your story?” Grayson cocked his head, and his ginger hair flashed under the bright hanging lights above us. Chest hair peeked from between the top buttons of his shirt, also red, and my attention focused on it. I never imagined Grayson to be the type of guy who didn’t wax his chest, but that only excited me. I loved a guy with a bit of chest hair to tease and tug on while I fucked into him.
“What do you mean?” I plopped down on one of the stools on my side of the island and sipped on my drink. While Grayson might have thought the mix was strong, it felt weak to me. I usually had more vodka.
Grayson gestured around him. “How did you get here? How did you get into public relations?”
The vodka tasted like rubbing alcohol as I thought about the question. I had to tread carefully. Grayson sniffed out bullshit, it’s why some people never lasted on his team, but I also didn’t give a damn enough to tell him the truth. I wanted him for sex, not a relationship.
“My family. I never fit in with them and wanted to get as far away from them as I could. So I went to college, studied marketing, had a few jobs at the Capitol that allowed me to afford all this, and eventually ended up here, in Cherry Hollow.” I shrugged and tipped my glass from side to side, watching the liquid move with it.
“Are you from Cherry Hollow?”
I rose from the stool and slid around to his side until I stood in front of him, my drink still in my hand. I leaned against the counter and dropped the tumbler on the pristine white surface. “Why the questions, Mr. Mayor?”
He blinked up and his gaze held something I didn’t quite understand, but I didn’t want to. When he stared at me, it felt as though he saw straight through me. Spikes of anxiety flashed through my gut. I didn’t want someone to understand me. I wanted a warm hole.
“My name is Grayson.” He grabbed my hips, dragging me closer. “Use it.”
I smirked down at him and cupped his cheek, stroking my thumb along his jaw. “Grayson.” I leaned down, crushing my lips against his. He tasted of the alcohol he’d downed and I couldn’t get enough of it. I fucked his mouth with my tongue, not holding back. Grayson wasn’t fragile, and I had a feeling he could handle whatever I threw at him.
He stood, not breaking the contact between our mouths, and gripped my hips tighter. He pressed closer, his half-hard cock rubbing against my own. Now that he was standing, I grasped his ass in my hands, squeezing the soft flesh between my fingers.
“Fuck, you’re so hot,” I whispered into his mouth when we broke apart, out of breath.
His nose touched mine and he had his eyes closed. His body was flush against me, his desire obvious by the hard cock rubbing against mine.
“I can’t do this,” he whispered, not opening his eyes.
“What? Why?” I frowned at him and traced my thumb along his cheekbone. It made him look at me.
“I’m the mayor.”
“So? Mayors need to get laid, too.”
He shook his head and ripped himself out of my hold. He strode toward the door, and I was hot on his heels.
“Did I do something wrong?”
He snatched his jackets and threw them over his arm, not even bothering to put them on. His tanned face was flushed, a pretty red painting his cheeks. “No, of course not, but I can’t have one-night stands with people I work with.” He paused, swallowed, and grabbed a handful of his hair. “Shit. I’m sorry. Maybe we can go for a coffee tomorrow?”
I knew when someone was a lost cause. I fucked guys, didn’t date, and Grayson obviously wanted what I couldn’t give. Yet, a slim part of me wanted to meet him for a coffee, seduce him, and hell, maybe even take him out. But I didn’t do that. I couldn’t afford to have someone else in my life I could lose. Not like I’d lost my family. They either died or I pushed them away. It’s how relationships worked in my life.
I smiled anyway. “Yeah, let’s grab coffee.” An excuse of why I couldn’t was already forming in my head. It would save me a lot of hassle anyway. Technically, he was my boss, and I couldn’t afford to lose this gig. I’d just have to let him down nicely.
He grinned. “I’ll catch a cab down the road.”
I nodded. “Tell Tomas to call you one.”
He hummed. “Okay. I had a good time, Blair. We’ll talk tomorrow?”
“Absolutely.”
Grayson closed the door behind himself gently, and I let out a sigh as soon as it clicked. I cupped my erection, rubbing it, and glared. Now I’d have to handle this myself. I hated jacking off. Fuck Grayson Briggs for wasting my night.
Bristol Scott
“Emily, come on! The bus will be here soon.” I glared at the corner stairs that led up to the bedrooms. “I can’t drive you to school again today. I have to meet Mitchell in town.”
Thumping came from the stairs, and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. I’d always heard teenage girls were the worst, but I didn’t know how bad it was until Emily hit thirteen.
“Why do I have to go?” She came to a stop in front of me. She barely met my shoulders, but she was still growing, and I expected she’d be as tall, if not taller, than me soon. It was obvious once she hit puberty that she was an alpha.
“Because you need a good career, and to get that, you need to go to college.”
“You didn’t.” She folded her arms over her chest, lips twisted in distaste.
“No, I didn’t, and look at me now. Raising a disobedient young lady.” I ruffled her dark blonde hair, earning me a fierce glare. She batted away my hands and ran her fingers through her loose curls, clearly fixing it again.
“I told you not to do that. I’m not twelve anymore.”
“No, but sometimes I wish you were.” I grinned at her when she flipped me the middle finger. “Hey, what did I tell you?”
“You’re my brother, not Dad.” The first time she’d said those words, it hurt. Something ached inside of me at the reminder that I wasn’t Dad and I never would be. We lost him, both our parents were gone, but I quickly realized she hadn’t said blasted me with facts to be mean. It was the truth, and she’d never respect me as much as she had Dad or Mom.
I pointed to the front door, unpainted and freshly fixed after a strong gust of wind from an unexpected storm had destroyed it a few weeks ago. “Bus. Now.”
&
nbsp; She rolled her eyes, but didn’t argue, much to my relief. Sometimes her attitude reminded me of Blair. It wasn’t that she felt as though she was too good for this family, or this farm, like he had, but her ego needed to be brought down a few pegs. There was nothing I could do, though. Our parents’ death had hurt her, and we all had our own pain to deal with. When I mentioned a psychologist to her one day, she chewed me out, and I never said anything about it again.
I went to the door and watched her stride toward the bright yellow bus that had just rocked up, her black backpack with band pins attached to it strapped to her back. She paused when she reached the stairs and turned, waving. Usually the bus wouldn’t come into the driveway, but Emily had everyone wrapped around her little finger. A real charmer, like Blair.
I waved back and smiled, watching her until the bus had pulled away and headed back into town. Once it had disappeared over a small valley in the distance, I grabbed the keys to Dad’s old Ford truck and left the farmhouse. The truck door was jammed, and I had to shake the entire truck a few times before it released and opened. I could have bought a new one by now, but I didn’t want to. Everything about our family farm reminded me of Dad and Mom, and I didn’t want that to change. Not yet. Emily and I needed the normalcy of it.
Our farm was stuck between Cherry Hollow and Hawthorne, and while Hawthorne was bigger, we’d always considered Cherry Hollow to be our home. I headed over the slight valleys and hills that led into the small town of Cherry Hollow. There was something about the small-town vibes, the country feel, that Dad and Mom had loved. They wanted us to grow up in that welcoming environment, and Dad had told me once he never regretted the decision to move here.
I directed the truck into a spare parking spot outside of Marge’s Diner and hopped out. I didn’t bother to lock it because crime was low here, and there wasn’t much someone could steal in it anyway. I headed down the street, waving at a few people I knew. I wasn’t much of a people person, though, so I didn’t stop to talk. The only person who usually got more than a boo out of me was Mitchell, Dad’s long-time friend.
Mitchell owned the animal feedstore that was on the street behind Main Street. When I entered, the bell over the door jingled, and he met me, shaking my hand roughly.
“Bristol, I’ve been expecting you.”
I smiled. “Sorry I’m late. Emily didn’t want to get ready for school this morning.”
He laughed. He was a plump man, about Emily’s height, with dark gray hair and a bushy beard. He wasn’t alpha or omega, but a normal person, not that it really mattered. Class only mattered to the rich, overindulgent people who relied on status. Blair was the one who cared about status. The thought of my twin brother made me bristle, and I pushed him out of my mind.
“How is Em? I remember the days when I hated school.”
I shook my head. “Never understood it. I loved school.”
“You were good at it,” Mitchell said. “Your dad told me the kinds of grades you were getting. I expected you to go to college, not Blair.”
A lot of people did, including me. “Someone needed to look after Emily and the farm when my parents died. Blair wasn’t going to.”
Mitchell cringed. “You did good, boy.”
Even though it hurt to think about what I’d missed out on, I smiled. “Thanks, Mitchell.”
He waved his hand toward the products on the shelves. “You get what you need for your animals, and I’ll meet you at the register.”
I nodded in thanks and headed down the aisles, collecting what we needed for our menagerie. Dad always believed in creating a mini zoo, and I was glad he did. Our pets were what got me through some days. I preferred animals over people anytime.
Once I grabbed the supplies I needed, I dragged them all to the front where Mitchell had another big bag ready for me. He dropped it on top of all the other food. I paid, and we shook hands before I returned to the truck. Once I’d thrown everything into the bed, I rolled my shoulders, listening to the satisfying crack of my joints.
“That’s bad for you.”
An unfamiliar voice made me turn and cup my hand over my eyes to guard them from the direct sunlight. A handsome man stood in front of me on the sidewalk, his arms crossed over his chest with a joyful smile on his face. He was familiar, but I couldn’t quite place him. Either way, he was enticing, from his dark red hair to his sharp cheekbones and soft jaw. He had on trousers and a tight-fitting sweater the same shade as his hair, and a pair of black boots. He was close enough that his scent tickled my nose—a smell that reminded me of fresh dew on an early morning.
“The release feels nice.” I stepped closer and shoved my hands in my pockets. I felt underdressed in my red plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and my blue jeans, scuffed from years of farm work.
He laughed. “It’s bad for your joints.”
I didn’t have many conversations with an unforgettable man like him. Blair was the playboy, the one who charmed all the men, omega and otherwise, and women around town. Compared to him, I was the spare parts, the second choice if they couldn’t have the main meal. So I was flabbergasted and a little speechless. I didn’t do well with conversations on the best of days.
Smiling, I rocked on my feet. “Uh….”
“Do you want to go for a coffee now?” He shoved his finger over his shoulder, pointing at the rear entrance of the Coffee Nook across the street. I’d been in there a few times, but not much. I loved coffee but preferred homemade stuff. It was cheaper, too.
I nodded anyway, though, because I didn’t want this interaction to end. “Sure.”
His smile was breathtaking, wide and happy, and I followed him into the little coffee shop. He waved at a few people who said hello to him, one calling him Mr. Mayor. It took a moment before it dawned on me. He was the new mayor of Cherry Hollow, the man who had replaced Jacob Harlow. I never followed politics much and lived in my own world. Now I knew why he looked familiar: the campaign signs that had been stuck all over town for months.
He gave a final handshake to someone before he guided me to a table near the back, in a corner. I sat, rolling my shoulders to get comfortable. It was a small space and my body felt too wide.
“Is this okay? I want some privacy.” He smiled gently, the corner of his lips causing a crinkle. I noticed a splatter of light freckles over his nose, and I felt the urge to kiss every one. It’d been too long.
“It’s fine, Mr. Mayor.”
He laughed, and it was music to my ears. “Didn’t I tell you to call me Grayson?”
I couldn’t remember him telling me that, but I was so confounded by his beauty I might have missed it. “I’m Br—”
“Hey, Grayson, hon’.” A young man in tight-fitting jeans and a crisp white shirt with a black apron tied around his hips sidled up to us. He smiled at Grayson first, then me, flashing me sparkling white teeth. “Who’s this gorgeous hunk of man?”
Grayson waved his hand at the waiter. “Stop it, Teddy. This is Bl—”
“I just want to look at that face.” He dropped his elbow on the table, leaned over, and breathed me in deep. “You smell like honey.”
“Thank you?” I didn’t know whether I wanted to laugh or duck my head in embarrassment.
“Clearly Grayson has a thing for you, because this is a date, if it’s anything. You don’t happen to have a twin brother, do you?”
“Actually—”
“Go away, Teddy.” Grayson made a shooing noise and flapped his hands. Teddy held up his palms, laughing, and left again. “Sorry about him. That’s my cousin. My papa’s sister’s kid. Although I shouldn’t say kid, he’s a year older than me. He doesn’t act thirty-one, though.”
“He’s a character.” I grinned and grabbed the menu, Teddy’s words echoing in my mind. Was this a date? This was all very weird. I don’t ever remember meeting Grayson before, and yet he acted as though he knew me. Years ago, I might have thought he’d mistaken me for my brother, but Blair had left town for college and nev
er returned.
Grayson leaned closer. “I like the clothes. Are they brand name?”
I glanced down at my plaid top and dirty jeans. “No, I don’t think so.”
“They fit you well.” He grabbed a piece of my shirt between his fingers, plucking it. “The plaid is manly.”
I cleared my throat and grinned again. Embarrassed made my face hot. “Thanks. Not many people appreciate plaid.”
“I do. On you.” His gaze darkened as it traveled down my body. It felt as though he was eating me alive.
“Um, thanks?”
He laughed, and a flush crept up his neck and cheeks. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t stop thinking about you last night.”
“Last night? What—”
“I’m back!” Teddy had a notepad and a pink pen with fluffy feathers on the end of it in his hands now. “What did you want to drink?”
“You haven’t given us much time,” Grayson said.
Teddy rolled his eyes dramatically. “Hon’, you had more than enough time. You were too busy making gooey eyes at each other, is all.”
“Teddy….”
“I know, I know. Go away. Geez, Louise. Why are you here on a Friday anyway?”
“Believe it or not, mayors have days off, too. We worked a lot of overtime, so we actually have a three-day weekend this week.”
“Some people have all the luck. Call me when you want something, okay?” Teddy winked at me, his eyeshadow glittering under the lights, before he left.
“Do you wear the plaid often?” Grayson asked once Teddy had cleared some distance again. The closer he got, the harder it was to breathe. His intoxicating scent filled my lungs and made me burn with need.
“I work on the family farm.”
“You have a farm?” Excitement danced in Grayson’s eyes and he darn near bounced in his seat. “You never told me that.”
“You never gave me a chance. I came into town to get animal feed.”
“What kind of animals does your farm have?”
“Dogs, cats, horses, sheep. We got it all. My dad loved animals, before he passed.” The thought of him made my heart ache. Time didn’t seem to make the loss much easier.
