Command Control

by Sara Jane Stone

  He’d spent the better part of the day pissed off while he walked Aunt Lou’s fence line. At first, he’d centered his feelings on Sadie. She’d kept secrets. But as he’d walked alongside the wire fence, looking for breaks, anywhere a cow could escape—or a reporter could slip in—he realized they’d both been searching for something. He’d been looking for a way to move on with his life and she’d wanted a chance to be herself.

  “Smells good in here,” he said, setting the box on the counter. “I thought you preferred takeout.”

  “I can heat up sauce and boil pasta.” She looked up from the stove and raised one eyebrow. “Monopoly?”

  “I found it on the top shelf in the linen closet. Seeing as we aren’t planning to sleep tonight, I thought we could play.”

  She laughed and the sound worked its magic, ratcheting his tension down a notch.

  “You’re on,” she said. “Set it up in the living room and we can play while we eat. But I’m going to warn you, I’m good.”

  An hour later, he believed her. Seated on opposite sides of the coffee table, their empty dinner dishes pushed off to the side, Logan sipped his beer and considered his next move. He’d gotten out of jail, but unless he rolled a ten and landed on Free Parking, he’d have to pay rent.

  He heard a rustling outside. Across the table, Sadie glanced at the drawn curtains, her body instantly tense and alert. Logan rose and went to the window, pulling back the curtain.

  “Wind,” he said. “It’s dark out now. I don’t think anyone’s out there.”

  She nodded. “It’s strange. The feeling that someone is watching me.”

  Logan turned to the table and rolled the dice. Eleven. He’d landed on one of his properties. “You said you were planning to go on TV soon.”

  “I am. To coincide with the launch of the next book in the series.”

  “Why?” he said. “If you’re a bestseller, why draw the attention?”

  “Increased sales.” Sadie rolled the dice and moved her shoe piece to the next railroad. “And I’m also hoping to sell the movie rights.”

  “Are you concerned? About the fame?”

  Sadie laughed. “It will be a hot story for a day, maybe two. After that, the mystery will be gone and no one will care. I’m a writer, not a movie star.”

  He rolled again. Five. Sadie’s property, and it housed a hotel. He counted out the bills and handed her the payment. “What about your family? Are they on board with the media circus? Even if it only lasts a day or two?”

  “Laurel supports me. I know she appreciates the checks I send each month. And if the tables were turned, she’d do the same for me.” Sadie took the bills and added them to her piles. “My dad? I think he’d prefer his monthly checks came from somewhere else. He gets some benefits for his years of service, but he got out early and healthy, so not much. And he spent everything he ever made on us until I started working.”

  “I’m sure he’s proud of you.”

  “I think he would have preferred I stuck with waiting tables, even if it meant less money. To be honest, I thought I’d be working in restaurants for a long time. I never expected my book to take off. I just knew I wanted to write.

  “And my dad sacrificed so much for us that I want to be the best at what I do. Not just for him, but for myself, too.”

  “Did you always want to be a writer?”

  “No.” Sadie rolled. Another ten and another visit to one of her railroads. “There was a time, back in high school, when I was convinced I wanted to join the marines. Like my dad. But I had all these stories to tell and I realized I couldn’t do both. Maybe some people could make it work, but I tend to throw myself into something one hundred percent. In this case, writing.”

  “A good quality.” He took the dice, but didn’t roll. If he landed on her property one more time, the game would be over. He wasn’t ready to stop playing yet. “You would have made a great marine.”

  “Maybe.” She cocked her head. “What about you? Why did you join the army?”

  “I didn’t want to be a farmer my entire life. I like raising cows and working Aunt Lou’s land. I’ll probably move back here and take over for her one day, but I wanted to get out for a while.” He looked down at the dice in his hand. “I also lost a few friends. On 9/11. We were just out of college and a couple of guys I knew went to work on Wall Street, to get away from Vermont for a while. I’d moved back home, married and was settling down. Only I wasn’t settled. I wanted more.

  “After I joined, I set my sights on becoming a ranger.” He shrugged. “Then, I didn’t want to leave. Still don’t. I’m not ready to trade jumping out of helicopters and riding horses through war zones for herding cows full-time. I love my job, Sadie.”

  She nodded. Logan waited for her to press for more, ask about when Jane demanded that he choose between his marriage and his career. She was probably wondering if he’d been up for farm life then. The answer was no, he hadn’t been ready. But he likely would have left anyway. He knew it didn’t reflect well on him that he probably would have held it against her, and their marriage might have failed anyway.

  “It’s your turn.” She nodded her head toward the dice in his hand.

  Just like that she let the subject drop, accepting he’d tell her when he could.

  “I have a bad feeling about this one.” He rolled and, sure enough, landed on another one of her properties. “I can’t pay the rent. I’m out of cash. So that’s it. Game over.”

  Sadie smiled, her eyes sparkling like a cat that’d caught a mouse. “I’ll take your shirt.”

  Logan raised an eyebrow. “Strip Monopoly?”

  “I’m going to get you out of it sooner or later, might as well hand it over now.”

  He reached behind him and pulled his T-shirt over his head. Balling it up, he tossed it at her.

  Sadie caught it and set it down by her side, not once looking away. “The way you look without your shirt? I like that about you.”

  Logan laughed, the tension easing from his body. It was as if Sadie sensed his limits and respected them. She understood he didn’t want to focus on pain, loss and the past. He wanted to laugh. And right now, get naked. With her.

  “I could keep rolling the dice, sacrificing an article of clothing each time,” he said. “Or I could hand over everything right now and crown you the winner.”

  Her eyes widened. “For a soldier you certainly wave the white flag quickly.”

  “I think it is worth sacrificing my freedom to be your prisoner.”

  She looked him over. “Okay, soldier, I’ll take your socks.”

  Logan pushed to his feet. One by one, he removed his socks and tossed them at her. “Next?”

  She tapped one finger to her pursed lips. Every time she did that, he remembered the bookstore—that first day when he’d run into her and she’d teased and joked with him. “Not much left,” she said. “I think it is time to hand over your pants.”

  Logan unbuttoned his jeans, and then slowly drew the zipper down. He hooked his thumbs in the top of his boxers and pulled them down with his jeans. Stepping out of his pants, he kicked them over to her.

  Sadie pushed them aside as she rose up on her knees and inched over to him. Outside, he heard another rustling, but this time, he didn’t think about investigating, not with her mouth inches from his dick.

  Grabbing hold of his hips, she leaned forward and ran her tongue over him. Logan closed his eyes. He’d been a fool to walk away from her, from this. Even if it couldn’t last.

  She drew back. “Hold that thought.”

  She was on her feet and heading for the hall when he opened his eyes. “Sadie, no one’s out there.”

  She walked back through the archway and held out her hand. The pink ribbon. “Your turn to call the shots. Tonight, I’m your prisoner. Af
ter all, I’d hate for you to feel like a pushover.”

  He took the spool, turning it over in his hands. “You know, I never asked, what is your fantasy? Not what you write about, but what turns you on?”

  Sadie blinked. “My fantasy?”

  The way she said the words, he wondered if anyone had ever posed the question to her. Or had they simply assumed what she wrote and what she wanted were one and the same, even though the character in her book was nothing like her? Sadie stood her ground. She made demands. She wasn’t searching for her voice; she’d found it.

  Sadie took the ribbon back and tossed it on the couch. Pressing her clothed body against his naked one, she pushed up on her tiptoes and kissed him, gently. “You. I just want you. That’s my fantasy. My fairy tale.”

  Taking his hand, she led him down the hall to her bedroom. Logan kicked the door closed behind them, reaching for Sadie, pulling her clothes off. He needed to feel her, touch her—make love to her.

  “As you wish, princess,” he said, guiding her to the bed. He lowered her down when the back of her knees hit the mattress. Without taking his eyes off her, he moved around to the nightstand, retrieved a condom and covered himself. She ran her hands over her breasts, teasing her nipples with her fingers, while she waited.

  “You’re killing me, Sadie. Watching you touch yourself...” He shook his head.

  “I thought you liked knowing what turns me on?”

  “I do.” Returning to the edge of the bed, he captured her wrists, one in each hand, and drew them away from her chest. “But I also want to be inside you when I come.”

  Slowly, he lowered himself down on top of her, suspending his weight on his arms. The feel of her skin brushing his, the way she pressed against him, begging and pleading with every movement for more—he couldn’t walk away from this, from her. He knew he had to, but right now it felt impossible.

  “Sadie,” he said, brushing his lips over hers. “This is more than a fling.”

  She nodded, pushing her hips up into him. “I know.”

  “You surprise me, at every turn, always offering something unexpected.” He closed his eyes, savoring the feel of her nipples brushing back and forth against his chest. Her smooth legs wrapped tight around him, holding him captive. If only he could stay here like this, with her. “I wish I could give you more. I want to make promises, but—”

  “Our lives are moving full-speed ahead in different directions,” she said.

  “Even if they weren’t...” He shook his head.

  Committing to her meant dragging her into his world of deployments and waiting. She wouldn’t know where he was or if he was even alive. He couldn’t call her with updates. He wouldn’t be able to tell her anything. She was strong, so strong, but he’d witnessed firsthand what the separation and waiting could do. What if he brought Sadie into his world and the waiting crushed her spirit? Her laughter?

  “I’m not sure I could give you more,” he said. “A real relationship.”

  Sadie lowered her legs, releasing her hold on him. She reached between them, taking him in her hand and positioning him at her entrance. She rocked her hips forward, opening to him, drawing him in. “This is real. Whatever this is, it’s real and it’s enough. For tonight.”

  Logan kissed her deeply. Her legs wound around his hips again, moving against him, making love to him, offering everything she had. Unable to hold back, he thrust, harder and faster, his movements pushing her body up the bed.

  “I need you with me, Sadie,” he said. “Tell me you’re with me.”

  “I’m with you.”

  She was. He could feel her tightening around him. She was so close. One more thrust—

  “Logan!”

  His name on her lips—that did it for him. He came hard, pouring everything he had to give into her.

  Afterward, lying in bed with Sadie curled against his side, he wondered how much he was willing to give up. His job? His heart? What would it take to make what they’d shared enough not just for tonight, but for the future? And was he ready to go there?

  20

  SADIE WOKE UP and reached for Logan, patting the pillow beside her. Nothing. She opened one eye and saw a yellow Post-it. Sitting up, she read the note. “Gone to feed the herd. Coffee is in the kitchen. Don’t open the curtains or unlock the doors until I get back.” Sadie smiled, slipping out of bed to find her robe. Last night he’d confirmed something she had been afraid to admit due to all the ifs in the way. They’d tumbled into relationship territory. She’d known for a while her feelings for him ran beyond hot and heavy vacation sex. Somewhere between dinner in the bookstore and finding the reporter, this had stopped being a fling. For her, it came perilously close to love. What would it take for him to see that this was a real relationship, she wondered, one worth pursuing?

  Filling her mug, Sadie heard her phone vibrate. She walked into the living room, still dark with the curtains drawn, and found her cell.

  “Hi, Dad,” she said.

  “If your offer is still on the table, I’d like to book a flight to Vermont,” he said gruffly. “I’d like to meet my granddaughter.”

  “If you want, you can use my credit card to book the flight. Do you still have the number?”

  There was a pause and Sadie feared she’d pushed too hard.

  “I do,” he said.

  “Book a flight. Stay for as long as you want. There’s a spare room in the guesthouse.”

  “I don’t want to get in your way.”

  “You won’t.” She couldn’t play strip Monopoly in the living room with Logan, but she’d manage. She wanted her father here. After last night, she was starting to feel as if she could do anything—pursue love, mend fences with her father and tell the world she was MJ Lane.

  “If you’re sure,” her father said.

  “I am, Daddy. And thank you for sending our wands.”

  “You were always my little princesses. You and Laurel.” He laughed, and for the first time in what felt like forever, the tension between them drifted away. Not far, but a brief reprieve. “Good thing I saved them.”

  “Yes. It meant a lot to us,” she said. “I can’t wait to see you, Daddy. I love you.”

  “I love you, too, princess.”

  Sadie ended the call and opened her laptop. Sipping her coffee, she logged into her bank account and transferred money to her father’s account. She didn’t want him worrying about missed income while he was visiting.

  Her family would be together again. Maybe she could convince her father to move here. Instead of finding another job, he could help Laurel with the baby. That would allow her twin to start looking for another position. She knew being unemployed bothered Laurel, but the cost of child care would take most of what her sister would make. If her father moved here, and Sadie covered his living expenses, it would be a win-win. Maybe Lou would consider renting the guesthouse long-term. With two bedrooms, Sadie could make regular visits to see her family.

  And Logan.

  Except Logan wouldn’t be here. He’d be deployed with his team or in Tennessee, near his base.

  Sadie stared out the window at the seemingly endless green fields. What if she met him halfway? Keeping what they had, moving it to the next level—it was about compromise. So, what was she willing to give up?

  New York? Probably. She could write anywhere. Her career? No. An imaginary roadblock appeared on the fairy-tale road to happy-ever-after in her mind. And then there was the small issue of those pictures. She hadn’t heard from Anne-Marie yet. They might not be able to stop the story.

  Still, after last night she had to wonder if there was a way around, a detour. She and Logan could discuss it together, she decided, when he returned from feeding the animals. They could brainstorm options. If he was ready to let her into his heart, if he was open
to a second chance at love, to borrow his aunt’s words, they could find a way to make this work. And after the way he’d made love to her last night, she suspected he might be close.

  Sadie opened her email and scanned her inbox. A Google Alert notification for MJ Lane caught her attention. She clicked on the message and read the one-line description—Bestselling erotica author discovered in Vermont. Trying out new scenes? You be the judge.

  No, no, no!

  She moved her mouse over the link, took a deep breath and clicked. A tabloid’s homepage filled her screen. Picture after picture of her with Logan. That man with the camera—he hadn’t just been hiding outside her window, he’d been in town for days, long before she’d called in the tip to the paper. Someone had connected the dots between the redhead hiding her face and Sadie Bannerman, and found her here, in Vermont. He’d followed her. Everywhere. And not just her, Logan, too.

  The top one—it was the most damning, and by far the most invasive breach of privacy. Sadie bit her lip. She’d told Logan she’d welcome the fame. She’d done everything she could to go after it and secure her movie deal. But this? She’d never imagined something like this would happen.

  Staring at the image, she felt as if something had been stolen from her. The photographer must have hidden among the garbage bins in the side alley and climbed up on a crate or something to get the shot. That moment, when she’d stripped Logan down and demanded he hold on to the shelves while she knelt in front of him, that belonged to her, to them. But here it was, posted on the internet for the world to see. The caption below the shot read MJ Lane Blows Her Mystery Man Away.

  Tears welled in her eyes. Not for herself. Let the world see her giving a man a blow job. She didn’t care. But Logan? This could ruin him. This picture could strip away his career, his future.

  Sadie forced herself to look at all of the images. The next one showed Logan at her doorstep in the middle of the night. He looked broken and desperate. In the next frame, he had her pinned up against the door. The final shot before the two-paragraph “story” featured Logan at the ice cream parlor sitting across from a little girl. Charlotte. They’d been careful not to show her face. But the caption? MJ Lane’s Lover a Father?