by Jessie Evans
Small towns have their downsides too, you know.
It’s not all bug-resistant asparagus and picturesque town squares and delicious homemade moonshine that’ll knock you flat on your ass for half the price of two designer martinis.
Noah stretched his arms out wide and lifted his face to the sun, ignoring the voice of caution. Sure, he might be romanticizing small town life a little, but he wasn’t imagining how good he felt every time he came to Sapphire Falls. Even Spermgate couldn’t completely get him down.
He was walking through verdant fields of thriving living things, he would soon have the crisis contained, and all would be well with the world.
The thought had barely crossed his mind when a sound like the battle cry of a deranged banshee shattered the peaceful country air. It was a sound straight out of the depths of hell and sent a shiver dancing up his spine.
“Help!” a breathless voice shouted. “Oh please, help! I can’t run anymore!”
Noah turned to see quite possibly the biggest rooster in existence chasing a petite, red-faced woman in a white sundress across the fallow field at the edge of Mason’s property. There was already blood on the backs of her legs and the monster tailing her was clearly out for more.
Without stopping to wonder how one went about fighting a rooster, Noah set off at a sprint through the knee high grass. He didn’t consider himself a hero, but there were certain things a man did without question.
He opened doors.
He paid for dinner.
And he offered his fists in service to women being pursued by rabid, demon cocks.
CHAPTER THREE
Yasmin
Just when Yasmin was certain that death-via-rooster was in her imminent future, Mason Riley turned and ran toward her, coming to the rescue.
Wait a second…
That wasn’t Mason Riley.
This man was a little taller, a little thicker, but no less handsome. In fact, he was flipping hot as hell. If she wasn’t already out of breath, seeing such a stunning specimen sprinting her way in faded jeans that hugged his manly thighs, a tight red tee that left no doubt his chest was equally manly, and a ball cap that completed the typical good old boy outfit would have done the job.
She’d sworn off men, but that didn’t mean she was blind. Or dead.
At least not yet.
“Ow!” She cried out in pain as Sampson took advantage of her momentary distraction and exhaustion to aim another wicked peck at her ankle. She tried to speed up, but her muscles were tapped out.
Thankfully, Not Mason Riley arrived a second later and aimed a booted foot at the rooster, summoning an outraged squawk from the foul-tempered creature. Yasmin spun, bracing her hands on her knees and struggling to catch her breath, just in case Not Mason lost this battle and more running-for-her-life was needed.
But it looked like Not Mason was determined to take out the threat to their safety. His well-aimed kicks and deep calls for Sampson to “get out of here” and “pick on someone your own size” had the rooster on the defensive. Sampson backed away, wings flapping and his shiny green tail feathers bristling. A half mile back, Yasmin had still been concerned about protecting Sampson’s prize-winning pelt, but now she was just hoping to emerge without any scars. If Sampson was damaged, her mother was just going to have to deal with it.
And hopefully, stop breeding roosters from this diseased bloodline.
Finally, after chasing the rooster a good fifty feet away, Not Mason turned back to her to ask, “Are you all right?”
It was a fatal mistake.
Before Yasmin could warn him never to turn his back on an enraged rooster, Sampson struck. One moment, Not Mason was walking back toward her, the next he was crying out in pain as a rooster beak made intimate contact with his backside.
“What the—” He spun, batting at the bird, but Sampson had already struck again and again until the man had no choice but to make a run for it.
He sprinted toward her, his eyes wide in his handsome face. “Run!” he shouted, shooing a hand. “Head for the other side of the field. There’s a tree we can climb.”
But Yasmin didn’t turn to run. Enough was enough. Sampson had gone too far. Attacking family was one thing; pecking the heck out of total strangers was another.
Whipping off her sandal, Yasmin bent her knees, narrowed her eyes, and prepared for battle. As her would-be hero raced past her, she dodged his grab for her elbow and launched her sandal at the rooster’s head. Thankfully, her pitcher’s arm—honed through nine seasons playing softball for Sapphire Falls’ teams growing up—was still in excellent condition. The sandal connected with Sampson’s head, Sampson squawked in pain and indignation, and a moment later the monster had turned and high-tailed it down the hill, flouncing back toward town.
“Should we call the police?” Not Mason asked, catching his breath as he came to stand beside her. “Warn them or something?”
Yasmin shook her head as she fetched her sandal and slipped it back on. “No, I think it’s okay. Sampson usually doesn’t go after other people. Just me. It’s a sibling rivalry thing.”
The man’s eyebrows crept higher on his forehead. “Sibling rivalry?” His glance skimmed down her body and back up again, making her cheeks feel hotter. “You don’t look part chicken.”
Yasmin laughed. “I’m not. Though I do prefer to run from conflict.” She held out a hand, smiling up at her would-be hero. “Yasmin North. My mom raises prize-winning roosters. They enjoy trying to kill me so that they can be my mama’s only babies. It’s the stuff of town legend.”
“Noah Riley,” the man said, his beautiful mouth curving into an even more beautiful smile as he took her hand. It was a warm, dry hand and it felt way too nice folding around hers. “Nice to meet you, Yasmin North. I’m sorry I wasn’t more help.”
“No, you were great.” She pulled her hand from his, trying her best to conceal the warm, aware feeling prickling across her skin. “A big help. I wouldn’t have had time to get my shoe off without you. I hope your, um…parts are okay.”
She would normally say “butt” or “ass” and use this entire interaction as an excuse to flirt her way into a date with this gorgeous specimen of Midwestern manhood. But that was the old Yasmin. The old Yasmin flirted with practiced ease and hadn’t met a man she couldn’t win over—at least for a date or two. But the old Yasmin also dated serial killers. New Yasmin didn’t date anyone and used words like “parts” or maybe “backside” when she was feeling particularly sassy.
New Yasmin was boring and would probably have tumbleweeds rolling down her vagina in a few years, but at least, she would be able to keep herself, and her future baby, safe.
Noah winced and dropped a hand to press against one firm, rounded butt cheek, making it almost impossible to keep her gaze above his belt. She’d only peeked for a second before, but it had been long enough to assure her that this man filled the hell out of a pair of jeans.
“It’s been better,” he confessed. “But at least now I know better than to turn my back on trouble. Especially when trouble has a beak and claws.”
“Never turn your back on an angry rooster,” she agreed, resisting the urge to offer her first aid services to whatever tender parts were wounded. “I don’t care what the experts say. My mom has been telling me for years that if I’ll just turn and walk away, a rooster will leave me alone, but experience has proven otherwise. Your best bet is to pick them up and hold them immobilized until they acknowledge you as alpha. But I can never manage to get a good grip on one of the bastards without getting pecked to death, so…”
“So you’re not a very good alpha?” Noah asked, his deep voice vibrating across her skin and his dark eyes telegraphing a clear invitation to engage flirt mode.
Old Yasmin would say something naughty about preferring submission over domination. She would soften the overt sexiness of the comment with a dimpled grin and a bat of her long lashes and be well on her way to sexy fun times with a gorgeous ne
w boyfriend by dinnertime tonight.
New Yasmin simply blushed and said, “No. I’m not.”
“Guess I’m not either,” Noah said, smiling. “Or maybe I just need more practice.”
“Well, I’m sure you’ll be able to find someone to help you out with that, Noah Riley,” she said, backing away, down the hill from whence she came. “Have a great rest of your day and thanks again for the rescue.”
And then she turned and ran away because temptation is a completely different animal than an angry rooster. One you don’t turn your back on; the other you run like the devil…while secretly hoping the devil will catch up.
CHAPTER FOUR
Noah
Go after her.
Go. Now.
Go now! The third time the voice in his head shouted, Noah launched into motion, breaking into a jog as he tailed Yasmin down the hill.
He didn’t know what was wrong with him. She had gently, but firmly, shut down his attempts to take friendly banter to the next level. She probably had a boyfriend or a husband—though he hadn’t seen a ring—and even if she didn’t, she clearly wasn’t interested.
Then you’ll make her interested, his inner voice insisted with an intensity that surprised him.
Noah was the head of his company, a born groundbreaker, and confident taking the lead in any situation—in the bedroom or out of it—but he wasn’t an alpha-hole. He didn’t get pushy with people or make a habit of imposing his will on others. But he couldn’t deny there was a part of him that was ready to throw this woman over his shoulder and carry her back to the guesthouse, caveman style.
The moment Yasmin’s almond eyes had met his, something deep in his gut had uttered two words—yes and mine.
And it was still saying them three minutes later as he jogged close enough for her to hear his call of, “Yasmin, Wait up!”
As she turned, the wind caught her silky black hair and tossed it around her face. Her gaze crashed into his, the knowing expression on her flushed features making him think she felt it, too. That they were opposite ends of a magnet, raindrops soaking into moisture-starved earth, two trains locked onto the same track, destined to collide. It was a pull that tugged at primal things at the cellular level, this undeniable certainty that they were meant to be more than friends.
Visions of how her already plush lips would look swollen from his kisses flickered through Noah’s head as he closed the distance between them. Her lips curved, and awareness flickered behind her eyes, making him pretty sure his thoughts were showing on his face.
But that was fine. Unless she flat out told him to walk away and never look back, he intended to kiss this woman. Soon. As soon as fucking possible.
“I need to take you to dinner,” he said before he’d even had a chance to catch his breath. “Are you free tomorrow night?”
“Need?” she repeated, one thin brow arching.
“Yes, need.” He grinned. An ex-girlfriend had once told him he had an irresistible grin, and he meant to use that and every other weapon at his disposal to ensure he had the chance to get to know Yasmin North better. “My cousin Mason and his wife are wonderful hosts, but their little boy is sick, so we haven’t been able to get out of the house much. I’m starting to go a little stir crazy. I’d really appreciate the chance to share a meal with a local girl, someone who can fill me in on all the town legends I’ve missed.”
Yasmin’s lips pressed together as she tucked her hair behind one ear. “So you’re just visiting?”
He nodded. “For now. But I’m hoping to make the move to Sapphire Falls permanently sometime soon, so anything you can do to help me prepare would be appreciated. I don’t want to have to learn all of my lessons the hard way.”
She made a considering sound and glanced over her shoulder. In the distance, the rooster who’d pecked the hell out of his ass and clipped his left testicle was scratching at the grass in back of Julie’s Apparel. The newly awakened alpha side of his personality was possessed by the urge to storm down the hill and challenge the bird to a rematch.
It was no less than the monster deserved for chasing a woman, his woman, across a field and pecking her until she bled.
Logically, Noah knew Yasmin wasn’t his woman. She was her own woman and if she told him “thanks, but no thanks,” he would go back to his cousin’s house and eventually forget that he and this beautiful girl with the right-kind-of-trouble sparkle in her eyes had ever fought a rooster together.
But he really, really didn’t want her to say “thanks, but no thanks.”
“We can keep it low key,” he said, sensing that was the best route to take with her. “Just grab something at the diner or get takeout BBQ and eat it on Mason’s front porch. I’m easy.”
Yasmin glanced up at him, the trouble in her eyes flaring brighter than before. “For some reason, I doubt that.”
“That I’m easy?” Noah’s brow wrinkled. “Why?”
“Just call it a hunch,” she said, crossing her arms at her chest. “But yes, I will have dinner with you, Noah Riley, on one condition.”
“Name it.”
“That if you do end up moving to Sapphire Falls, you and I forget we ever had dinner. If we run into each other around town or at the social functions of mutual acquaintances, we will always and forever be just friends.”
Noah’s eyes narrowed, studying her face as he asked, “And why would you make a condition like that? Can you already tell you’re not interested in being more than friends with me?”
“It doesn’t matter what I’m interested in. That part of my life is over.”
He shook his head, moving closer until the smell of her—lemons, herbs, and the salty smell of feminine sweat, a smell that made him want to taste her more than ever—rushed through his head. “Over? As in…”
“As in I never intend to seriously date anyone ever again. A night of fun here and there is all I’m up for, nothing more serious than that. So you can either take it or leave it.” She lifted her chin and rolled her shoulders back, clearly ready to defend her decision if he was stupid enough to mock her.
But he had no intention of mocking her. Now that he was closer, he could see the fear that roared beneath the humor and sass. He knew that kind of fear. It was the kind that had wrapped its thick fingers around his throat when he’d been told he had testicular cancer, the same cancer that had killed his father. He’d beaten that monster three years ago, but the fear lingered.
That’s why he’d made arrangements to have his sperm banked as soon as he’d recovered from treatment. Anxiety that the cancer would come back and take what it hadn’t the first time—his ability to father a child—had haunted him. Banking ten samples that could provide several insemination attempts each had helped smother those worries.
But Yasmin’s fear was clearly still burning bright. It was a cold wind howling outside her door, and he couldn’t blame her for not wanting to let anyone in.
No, he didn’t blame her, he blamed whatever son of a bitch had hurt her, scared her, made this beautiful, young, vibrant woman believe that she had no choice but to lock the doors to her heart and hang out “condemned pending demolition” signs. The man who made it clear that Yasmin was still running away from him as fast as she could, even though she was standing close enough to touch.
Noah didn’t consider himself a violent man—he’d only been in a handful of fights and most of those when he was in school and had become the self-appointed defender of fellow nerds not gifted with his muscle mass—but right now he wanted to smash a fist into the face of the man who’d done this to Yasmin. He wanted to beat the unholy shit out of the man, until he was lying bruised, broken, and harmless at her feet, proving she had nothing to be afraid of anymore.
But beating her ex to a bloody pulp wouldn’t fix the things that were broken. His best chance at getting through to Yasmin was to honor her boundaries and hope that maybe, for the right man, those boundaries might be redrawn.
He nodded seriously. “I�
��ll take it. And when I move to Sapphire Falls, I would be honored to be your friend.”
She blinked, seeming surprised by his answer. “But you don’t even know me.”
“Just call it a hunch,” he said, grinning as he tossed her words back to her. “Meet me by the gazebo at six tomorrow? And we can decide where to go from there?”
“All right,” she said softly. “But we’d better meet outside Julie’s Apparel, instead. The main part of the square will be crazy tomorrow night. It’s when they announce the King and Queen of the festival.”
Noah glanced down the hill, shaking his head when he saw the rooster still stalking the patchy grass near the shop’s rear parking lot. “Will it be safe? I’m assuming someone will have contained the poultry threat by then?”
She waved an easy hand through the air. “My mom will have Sampson back in his pen before the hour is through. He plays it tough, but he’s a mama’s boy.”
“I bet,” Noah said, nodding seriously. “The other guy that went for my balls in a fight was a mama’s boy, too. They always fight dirty.”
She laughed, her cheeks pinking, transforming her pretty face into something breathtaking. Noah literally had to take a beat to remember how to exhale. By the time he did, her laughter had been swept away on the summer breeze, and she was backing away from him once again.
“Do you need me to walk you down?” he asked. “Watch your back? I know I wasn’t much help the first time, but I can, at least, throw my body between you and danger.”
“No, thanks. That’s a noble offer, but I’ll be fine. I’ll head around the other side of City Hall, and stay out of the line of fire.”
“All right, then. See you tomorrow,” he said, lifting a hand.
“Tomorrow.” She paused, one ankle circling thoughtfully in the air before she added, “And thanks for the dinner invite. I’ve got a ton of crazy to get through tomorrow. It will be nice to have something to look forward to.”
