by Jenn Sable
“Why are you hellbent on climbing the ranks of the state police?” she asked.
Hellbent, yup, that was me. Is me, I guess. “My dad proudly served as a state police officer for twenty-two years. He was being considered for a promotion when he was struck and killed by a car during a routine traffic stop.”
El’s eyes rounded and she reached out and placed a hand on my shoulder. “I am so sorry for your loss, Troy. Sammie told me you’d lost your father, but I didn’t know how. Is that why you joined the force?”
I hadn’t talked about my reason for joining the force in years and it surprised me when I felt some emotion sit at the back of my eyes. “Partly. I feel best when I’m helping people, protecting my community and loved ones. Being a state police officer allows me to do that and carry on with my dad’s legacy. I want to make him proud, even now. I could go on and earn the promotion that he never got the chance to take.” I shrugged, not sure how to explain the sense of obligation without sounding like obligation. In the same sense El had something to prove to her sisters, to make them proud. I had that same deep-rooted need with my dad’s legacy.
El tucked a few strands of hair behind an ear, and my lips twitched, she was nervous. “You said, partly. What’s the other part of becoming a state police officer?”
I scrubbed a hand over my face, reached down and took a long swallow of wine from the bottle that sat in the grass beside the lawn chair. “Ah, that’s the part that I’m not proud of, so we’ll skip over that for tonight.”
El sat down her wine glass on the small, circular side table next to the lounge chair and crossed her arms. “Okay, but I just want you to know that I opened up to you with some pretty heavy truths of mine a minute ago. I’ve ever told anyone that stuff before. So, I get it if you don’t want to go there with me, but just know it’s okay. No matter what it is, I won’t hold your crummy reason for joining the force against you. You’re a great guy, Troy, a wonderful friend and a protector of our community.”
“I wanted to piss off my mom.”
“What?” she laughed.
“I told you that we should’ve skipped this part,” I mumbled and took another swallow of wine.
El sat up and slid next to me so that we were shoulder to shoulder. “No, sorry. Your answer just surprised me. Why did you want to piss off your mom?”
I looked at her from underneath furrowed brows. “I was young and angry that my dad had died. I wasn’t handling my grief very well and took it out on my mom by becoming a cop.”
“Why did you want to take it out on your mom?” asked El peering up at me with her soft-brown eyes that had a magical way of opening me up and sucking the truth to the surface.
I shook my head. “It’s a long story. I guess it all boiled down to my mom asking my dad for a divorce two days before he got killed. I blamed her for putting him under stress. It made sense to my grieving teenage mind. I thought she caused my dad to not be as alert on the job as he normally would’ve been. But the truth is, my dad’s death was an accident, and there was no way that he could’ve sidestepped a vehicle traveling seventy-five miles per hour that didn’t see him at night.
El didn’t say anything; she just wrapped her slender arm around my back and gently held me. It actually felt healing to talk about what had happened. That period of my life swam in the back of my mind like an ever-present shark circling in the distance. It took up more mental space than I would've liked, and it had become more pronounced since Captain called, insisting I fill out and submit my transfer paperwork.
“It’s complete bull shit though, I realize that now. My mom even made my sister and me go to a few rounds of therapy after Dad died. I refused to allow anything to help me. I was a stubborn senior in high school, devastated that I'd just lost my father. Now that I can look back with adult eyes, I see that my mom’s asking for a divorce didn’t have anything to do with my dad’s death. She felt as though she had played a distant second fiddle to my dad’s career and it was the truth. My mom didn’t want my dad to take the promotion, and he told her that nothing was going to stop him, not even her. Well, I guess he found something that stopped him. Jesus, it’s been a while since I talked about this with anyone.”
El laid her head on my shoulder and gently squeezed my side. “Come on. It’s getting late.”
I smiled and nodded, disappointed that our time together had reached an end. “It was really nice talking with you, El. I guess that’s that, then.”
“Yes,” she said.
“That means I had better get goingー”
“It means we have tonight,” she breathed.
I went completely still, and locked eyes with El, trying to understand the meaning of what she’d just said. I felt as though I were hovering an inch outside of my body, not thinking that I could’ve heard El correctly.
“What are you suggesting, El?” I asked, my voice low and controlled. I had to make sure her intentions were what I thought they were.
“I’m suggesting that we take tonight to enjoy ourselves. It’s one night. We know the stakes. I’m traveling. You’re moving. We’re completely wrong for one another. But we’re together at this big, empty inn, in the middle of the forest, no one needs to know except us.”
I chuckled. “No one needs to know what?”
“That you stayed the night with me.”
I swallowed. She swallowed.
A long beat of silence ticked by, and I felt each thud of my heart as I gazed into her beautiful, unblinking, dark-honey eyes. I finally broke the silence. “I’d like nothing more than to stay with you, butー” I began.
“Then stay,” said El, and she gripped the bottom hem of my T-shirt in the center of my back and gave it a little tug. She’s so damn cute.
I cleared my throat. “I’m sleeping downstairs.”
The biggest grin broke across her gorgeous face. “Of course,” she said with mock seriousness.
“Like I said before, I want you to relax with me this evening. That’s the only thing that has to happen, okay?” I said, giving El a penetrating stare.
“Relaxing with you sounds perfect. Can we move inside? It’s getting chilly,” she said.
I exhaled the breath I didn’t even realize I had been holding. As soon as we stood up from the lounge chair, El interlaced her fingers with mine, and I automatically ran my thumb over the soft flesh of her palm. I loved the way El batted her eyes closed for a moment and took in my touch.
So much for me following my own rules!
“So, how do we begin?” asked El as we walked toward the inn.
“Why don’t we start with you telling me about your day,” I said.
El groaned and let her head fall to the side. “You do not want to know,” she said.
I looked over at her, eyes shining with mirth. “I heard you had lunch at Dale's Diner.”
I SHOULD’VE BEEN ON my way to Axe Hollow. I should’ve been putting miles between El and me. Instead, I sat in her cozy kitchen and watched her laugh and smile and look absolutely fucking gorgeous while she relaxed and told me about her day.
But by the end of her story about Dale's Diner, I wanted to beat the shit out of Maxwell Palmer. I had no idea that he’d given her problems earlier in the day. El had been vague about what Max said to upset her, but I was still concerned that Max might do something stupid.
The kid certainly didn’t handle unrequited love well. It made me feel even more uneasy about putting in for a transfer. Max smelled like trouble, but I also knew that El was leaving for Paris in the morning.
I only had a few sweet, precious hours to revel in her laughter, watch how she would reach up and tuck her curls behind her ear, press the flat of her palm to the soft curve of her belly when she laughed and watch the way her breasts rose enticingly when she took a deep breath. I pushed Trooper Witmer to the back of my mind and allowed Troy to surface and hungrily take in the beautiful woman in front of me.
I’d planned on a night of poker and whiskey with my b
uddy, Sawyer, and his tattoo parlor crew to give me time to clear my head and put a little space between El and me. But sitting in the kitchen late at night while El leaned back against the counter, beautifully relaxed, was quickly turning into one of the best nights I'd had in a while. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours since her sexy little mistaken text had shown up and all hell had broken loose. Now I’d just agreed to stay the night with her at the inn. Sweet, self-inflicted torture.
“Come into the study. I'll tell you how I'm going to transform it into a little shop for my teahouse visitors. I want to make sure that all guests have the chance to buy as much tea as they want. The study already has shelving for loose leaf tea and it's just the perfect setup with all the natural wood.”
Plus, there's a nice big, comfy leather couch in there. It'd be nice to share it with her.
El led the way to the study off of the parlor. As we walked through the darkened inn, it amused me that one little text had become a catalyst for thisーthe unleashing of confined feelings between the two of us. I was actually having fun, as in young, carefree fun, and it was with El, the dream girl that I’d been making love to for months in my fantasies. I'd never been so grateful for a mistaken text in all my life.
El took me by the hand and pulled me into the study. The study was a large, rectangular-shaped room, lined with built-in walnut bookcases that surrounded an elegant stone fireplace. It was perfect for El to transform into a tea shop. It had an exterior door that sat next to an impressive three-sided bay window that showcased Mrs. Evans’ side-lawn gardens of peonies, roses, and honeysuckle.
“When I open the bay windows or the door, the smell of the flowers is incredible. My favorite is the honeysuckle. It’s intoxicating. It’s the perfect way to introduce people to my tea selections.”
I smirked. “You like the honeysuckle, huh?”
“Yeah, it’s gentle and light. Anyway, I already emptied the shelves and am waiting for the first shipment of product to arrive. I’m going to start with eight types of tea and then introduce a signature blend each month. Chloe and I already have quite the agenda set,” said El, her excitement was contagious.
I stood with my arms crossed, leaning against a built-in shelf and listened to El walk me through her plans. Eventually, the conversation ebbed, and we stood in silence.
I smiled when El walked over and pulled me toward the overstuffed leather couch. I let her push me down on one end, and she sat on the other. Reclined, she sipped at a new glass of wine. I drank in her easy smile and studied her like a painting from under hooded eyes. I took in her beauty and her features from all sides, loving the perfection of her cheekbones, smooth skin, and expressive eyes, how freckles kissed across her nose, and the way her smile pulled a bit higher on one side than on the other. I liked her so much it made my chest ache.
Something had shifted between us a little over a year and a half ago when El first came back from studying abroad in Paris after her college graduation. But I had denied it and never thought I'd actually act on my attraction, definitely not right before I was getting ready to move across the damn state.
El had stepped back into Frost Forest after traveling overseas as a cultured woman who looked strong, in her power, and ready to take on the world. And that’s when I had noticed that she’d quietly slipped into my subconscious. It was subtle. I slowly started to see things about her that I hadn’t before. When she was puzzled by something, or deep in thought, she'd frown and rub the pad of her pointer finger and thumb nail together. And when she was happy, she hummed.
Typically she hummed the most and the loudest while she gardened. Anytime I’d swing by the inn to drop something off, or play cards with the Brockers, if I’d see El gardening, I’d walk by the garden as many times as I could to listen to her. I don’t think she hummed any actual songs, but the tunes were always uplifting, quite humorous when she’d pull weeds and all soft and sweet when she tended to her flowers. She’d be bent over, wild curls stuffed up under a straw garden hat, breasts straining forward, with the lightest tune passing her lips. She was gorgeous.
Noticing the middle Evans sister had started innocently enough until she showed up in a fantasy. The first time I’d fantasized about El had been after a long, frustrating work shift. At home, I slipped into bed, laid back my head, and started pumping my shaft in my fist while I imagined walking up behind a woman with long, dark curls. In my mind's eye, I'd slowly pulled her skirt up and her panties down. I imagined her arching her back a bit to give me access to run my shaft along her slit until I found purchase and entered her, slowly, then working to gain full, hard thrusts.
Right as I imagined us both giving ourselves over to orgasm the woman in my fantasy looked over her shoulder at meーit was Eloise. I’d come so hard that night just fantasizing about her. Since then, I’d taken El in every way possible in my mind, but nothing compared to the actual feel of her melting into my chest while she allowed me to plunder her mouth with mine.
Now I shared a plush leather couch with El in her study. Slowly reaching out and gently pulling her feet into my lap again, I continued the foot massage that I’d started earlier in the garden. El’s happy sigh made me feel like a damn hero as I stroked the delicate arches of her feet with my thumbs. I watched her lips part slightly, and I imagined all the ways I wanted to touch her and make her pouty mouth moan out my name.
I had to make a concerted effort not to rip her thin cotton dress off her like a damned caveman. Something about El made me feel positively primalーferal. It was shocking and exhilarating and completely inappropriate.
El laughed. “What are you thinking about right now? You look super serious,” she giggled, and I loved the way it made her breasts wobble slightly under her cotton dress as she leaned back onto the pillows.
I’m thinking about stripping you naked and sliding my cock inside of you, fucking until you see stars behind your eyes and can’t think of any other man but me.
“It wouldn't be appropriate to say,” I murmured, and her eyes danced with mischief.
Fuck it all anyway. Is one night too much to ask? Spending time together as two consenting adults who are attracted to one another didn't seem like such a crime, such a sin. Yeah, El's young, but she's also a twenty-three year-old woman who can make decisions for herself.
I sat and contemplated the consequences of blatantly throwing caution to the wind. It had cracked me up how she groaned when I mentioned Dale’s Diner. Patty, the waitress, didn’t know El personally but told me all about how she’d stopped by for lunch with a friend for a serious session of girl talk to dissect my morning visit. I smiled and laughed about the lunch chat with Patty, but my heart nearly beat out of my chest with joy.
El put down her glass of wine on the side table next to the couch. The sound snapped me out of my thoughts. El cupped her blushing cheeks. “Oh God, why do you insist on torturing me? Tell me what you're thinking about,” she laughed.
I shrugged. “It’s kind of fun torturing you. You look adorable when you’re embarrassed.”
She rolled her eyes. “You said I looked adorable when I was nervous.”
“Yeah, you’re adorable when you’re nervous and embarrassed. But you’re also adorable when you’re happy, when you concentrate, when you’re grumpy, joyful, all of the above,” I said, with a wry smile.
“Yeah, well, I’m not exactly going for adorable tonight,” she said, and broke eye contact for a moment.
Arching a brow, I cupped her ankles and squeezed them gently, then wrapped my hands around her lower calves and squeezed again. She bit her lip, and victory flowed through my veins, straight to my boxers, and my shaft twitched. ”What are you going for tonight?” I asked, gruffly.
El lifted and dropped one shoulder while a shy but sexy smile spread across her lips. “I was hoping for alluring, tempting, and maybe even, I don’t know, seductive. That was how I felt when I walked outside earlier. I felt happy and sexy,” she said and shivered, and I slid my warm hands over
the tops of her legs, feeling goosebumps under my fingertips.
I could see the tightening of her nipples under her dress, and I slid my hand up her leg over her knee and rested it just beyond on her thigh. “You’re cold. Do you need to put on something warmer? Or maybe there’s a blanket that we could throw over your legs.” I said.
“It wasn’t this cold when I first slipped into this dress and went outside,” she explained, pulling her feet off my lap and swinging her legs over the side of the couch to stand.
“There’s a cold front moving in tonight,” I murmured.
“I didn’t realize that,” said El, walking over to the fireplace.
My eyes feasted on the way she moved when she walked and the way her rounded backside was full and feminine. I wanted to rub my hands over it, slap it, and squeeze it while she straddled me.
“Well, we old people, such as myself, like to watch the weather report while you whippersnappers just go running headlong into the unknown,” I chuckled.
El’s eyes sparkled. “Well, old man Witmer anytime you’re feeling tired and want to lie down in bed, just say the word. I'll tuck you in, but I won't make any promises that I'll let you go to sleep,” she laughed and gave me a saucy look over her shoulder as she reached for a blanket from a large basket next to the stone fireplace.
It was the same look that I imagined her giving me the first night I'd fantasized about her. Fuck. I was pretty sure El was just teasing, but my pants didn't know that she was joking. My lower stomach muscles tightened, and my shaft started to thicken again. Ah, fuck.
“Trust me, I’m wide awake,” I growled, and she laughed. “What were you up to before I arrived?” I asked, curious about El what did in her time alone.
She picked up a soft knit blanket and sauntered back to the couch. I enjoyed watching her walk toward me, eyes locked on mine. The sway of her hips mesmerized me, and I wondered if she knew how watching her cotton skirt swing from side to side made my pulse pound. “Casting a spell under the stars to draw you here, of course,” she said.
