Marina Adair - Need You for Keeps (St. Helena Vineyard #6)

by Unknown

  Only when he forced his focus off of that bow and back to her eyes he was confused as to how to get there. By the looks of things, so was she.

  “Invite me in, Jonah,” she whispered, all of that earlier playfulness gone.

  She pressed her mouth to his, light and tentative, as though asking permission, and Jonah knew they weren’t talking about his house anymore.

  “Only if you’ll stay,” he whispered.

  “Even if you have to leave for work?” she asked, her eyes so big and wary his chest tightened.

  Shay had spent most of her childhood being shuffled from one home to the next without ever finding a family, and her adulthood giving away animals she loved in hopes that they’d find what she was afraid she’d never have. It was easier for her to grant other people’s wishes than to wish for someone who might wish for her back.

  “Especially then.”

  She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. And just like that, everything felt like it fell into place. With a sexy little sigh, she deepened the kiss and all of the weight from the day, from the past few weeks, even the past few years collided in his chest, and he knew that she was so deep under his skin he wasn’t sure how much farther he could invite her in. Wasn’t sure that he could breathe without her.

  One minute his hands were right there, next to that damn bow, and the next they were lifting her. He carried her into the house, kicking the door closed with his foot, his mouth never leaving hers as he walked her down the hallway and into his bedroom.

  Once there he didn’t waste any time, setting her on her feet and breaking away long enough to find the bow. With an easy tug, the dress fell off her shoulders and to the floor in one amazing swoop, leaving Shay in mile-high heels, cream-colored panties that had her cheeks playing a game of peekaboo, silky skin—and no fucking bra.

  “Christ, Shay.” She was beautiful. His mind was telling him that she was his.

  “My turn,” she said, walking toward him, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor. Again she held his gaze while her clever fingers went to work on his shirt, his belt, his pants, then—hello.

  Her hand wrapped around the length of him, gentle but sure. The heat from her touch shot through his body as she slowly stroked him, base to tip, base to tip, base to fucking tip until he was sure he was going to pass out. His breathing was already nonexistent, then she dipped even lower on the return, delivering a gentle squeeze. Then a not-so-gentle squeeze.

  “Christ, Shay,” he groaned, his head falling back.

  “You already said that, Sheriff,” she teased. “Let’s try for something more original.”

  He was down for original. He was down for anything that included Shay’s hands on him. And he was especially down with what happened next.

  Shay sat on the edge of the bed. He stood between her legs, although he had no recollection of moving, and her mouth—God, that mouth—took him in. And he bucked into her, he couldn’t help it. She was looking up at him, pulling him deep into her mouth, and his hips went for it and she didn’t even flinch, seemed turned on actually, and then before he knew it his hands were fisted in her hair and he couldn’t seem to look away or stop moving.

  “Fuck.” He didn’t want to stop moving. He didn’t want to stop her. What man would? But he wanted this to be about them and he knew that if he didn’t pull back, this would be over before they got to more.

  And he wanted more.

  “Fuck,” he said again, forcing himself to step back.

  She released him with a smile. “Is that an order, Sheriff, or your way of making small talk? Because the first time I thought it was conversational in nature, but now I’m not so sure.”

  “The name is Jonah,” he said. “And that was me telling you just how crazy you make me.”

  Her smile faded. “In a good way?”

  “In the best way.” With his hand still in her hair, he crushed his mouth to hers. Reaching down, he palmed the globes of her ass, which were straining to be free of the lace confinement. Being a gentleman and always willing to do his part, he divested her of them quickly.

  She groaned, locking her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, then leaned back. All the way back. So that she was lying on the bed and he had no choice but to follow. Crazy thing was—he was pretty sure he’d follow her anywhere.

  No questions asked.

  He settled over her, a hand sliding up to the small of her back so she was arched off the bed. Taking a moment to enjoy the view, a long, appreciative moment, he dropped an openmouthed kiss to the valley between her breasts and, to cover all bases, he explored the entire region, teasing her until she was panting his name.

  Her legs tightened around his middle, pressing his erection against her core. Using their position for leverage, she lifted her hips and rubbed herself deliciously down his length, then back up. Her breathing picked up and he could feel her body straining to create the right friction, friction that had his lungs struggling to take in air.

  “More,” she moaned. “I need more.”

  No further explanation needed, Jonah blindly reached for a condom out of his nightstand drawer. He had it located, unwrapped, and in place in record time and finally slid home. That was what it felt like, what she felt like. Coming home.

  Being here with Shay, with her looking up at him as if he was everything she could hope for and more, he felt his whole world come into focus. Like he was on the edge of the biggest moment of his life and with the next breath everything would be forgiven, everything would be right.

  Jonah slowly started moving as he took a breath. Then another, and by the third he felt like he was floating, but not freely. It was like spiraling out of control.

  “Jonah,” Shay whispered, framing his face with her hands. That was all it took, that one simple reminder that she was there, and he exhaled. Long and hard, it came from his soul. “I’ve got you.”

  “I know,” was all he said, and then he was kissing her, touching her, holding on with everything he was because she had him. In the most unexpected way, Shay had him. In every sense of the word.

  Jonah moved faster, feeling her body clench around his, but no matter how fast he moved everything seemed to slow and fall into place. Even when Shay’s body coiled and they both let go together, she never once looked away, and Jonah realized he was finally breathing and she was his oxygen. He also realized he didn’t just want more.

  With Shay, he wanted everything.

  So you’re not even going to read what I drove all that way for?” Shay asked, looking up at Jonah through her lashes. She was lying on top of him, her arms folded on his chest, and he was making amazing circles down her spine with his fingers.

  “Nope,” he said with a grin. “And batting your lashes doesn’t work. Ask the cat.”

  The cat Jonah referred to was curled on the pillow between the file and them. Staring.

  “What if I make it worth your while?” she purred, giving his chest a bite.

  “Not even then. And before you start sinking your teeth in—ow!” He smacked her butt. “Are you listening?”

  “Yes.” Although now he was rubbing where he smacked, and focusing on much else was difficult.

  “I don’t need to read it because I already know everything I need to,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. And with an answer like that, how could she be mad? But she was. She’d gone through a lot to get that file and she wanted him to read it.

  The truth was she wanted to make sure he believed her. And that file validated her story. Shay wanted to believe she had overcome her childhood need to be validated, but she had the overwhelming urge to prove to Jonah that she wasn’t what her police report said. That she was more than a difficult and temperamental transient thief who bucked the system. Yes, she wrote that check, and yes she knew it was wrong, but her mother’s ring was all she had left of her family. Lance had taken everything else. She wouldn’t let him take her ring.

  “You’re not goi
ng to let this go,” he said, letting out a long-suffering sigh, then craned his neck to kiss the tip of her nose. “All right, if it will stop you from frowning, you can give me the high points.”

  “I’m not frowning.” But she was. Relaxing her face, she said, “It’s a copy of the transcript from my trial. At the end, the Honorable Judge Lipmann only fined me one dollar.”

  She saw the surprise in Jonah’s face. “One buck?”

  “Yup.” She smiled. “He said he would like to throw the whole case out because Lance is a dickwad of the most extreme kind.”

  “He said dickwad in a court hearing?” Jonah reached for the file. “Let me see.”

  “I’m paraphrasing. Creative license applies.” Shay yanked it out of his hands and put it behind her back, which had all of her weight resting down on him—and the man was ready to go again. “Can I continue?”

  He ran his palms to her butt and pulled her against him. “Make it fast.”

  “The dollar part was real. He also let me keep the ring, I just had to pay Lance back for the amount of the check, unless I chose to press countercharges, which I did not.” She’d just wanted the whole thing to be over so she could move to a new town—and move on. “He said he wished he could throw the whole case out, but I did write a hot check and tried to pass it off as mine. So he was stuck.”

  “And Lance?”

  “Off living his life, I guess.”

  “I’m sorry, Shay,” he whispered with so much sincerity she felt her heart sigh.

  “It’s okay.” Holding on to bad things made it impossible to find happiness, so in order to move on Shay had learned to let go. And now she was here. In a town that might just be home with a man she was pretty sure she had fallen in love with.

  Mew. Kitty Fantastic stretched out a paw so that it barely touched Jonah’s biceps.

  “Is it always like this?” he asked and Shay wanted to say no, that she’d never felt like this before. Ever. But she knew he was talking about their audience.

  “I find it odd that a man who claims to dislike cats as much as you do owns a cat tower.”

  “Yeah, I’d been hoping you’d miss that,” he said and she laughed.

  No one could miss the Towering Tree Bungalow next to his dresser, with all seven feet of carpeted kitty hideouts, a trapeze, and spinning play circle. The only one who seemed to have looked right past it was Kitty Fantastic, who seemed to prefer Jonah’s bed to the Harmony Hammock.

  “It was either that or accept my recliner is nothing more than a glorified scratching post, and I’m not ready for that yet.”

  “That’s so—”

  “If you say sweet,” he warned, smacking her butt again, this time a little harder, “I will pull out the cuffs.”

  A zing of heat shot through her body at the threat. Who knew bossy Jonah could be such a turn-on?

  Flashing a wicked smile, Shay leaned up to kiss him, making damn sure that her breasts were grazing his chest, and their other parts were properly aligned. “You, Jonah Baudouin, are a closeted cat lover.” She kissed his nose. Then his jaw. “And I think that is about the sweetest thing ever.”

  Then before he could move, she rolled off of him onto her back. Lifting her hands to the headboard, she crossed them at the wrists. “Is this the position you wanted me to assume, Sheriff? Or did you have something else in mind?”

  The sun was high and a cool breeze kicked down Main Street, rustling the leaves of the maple trees and the big GET GLAM AND GET WALKING sign that hung between the marble columns of town hall. Shay sat behind a table, wearing her favorite mossy-green sundress and a neon-orange boa—compliments of the Boulder Holder—and watched as, one by one, pets and their owners lined the sidewalk. They were decked out in their finest attire. It was a sea of studded leashes, faux-fur collars, and critter couture as far as the eye could see.

  Registration for the first annual Prance for Paws Charity Pet Walk was officially open and Shay felt like throwing up. She had her permit, everyone around town had been cordial the past few days, and most people even kept their grooming appointments.

  But as she sat there, a stack of racing numbers ready to go and a smile so big on her face she feared it might crack, not a single person came over to actually pick up their number.

  “Don’t everyone rush all at once,” she said with a laugh.

  No one laughed back. Even worse, no one moved, except Socks, who burrowed deeper into her lap. Shay wished she had someone to burrow into. Sitting there, all alone, it was like she was twelve again, everyone curious about the new girl but no one willing to be the first to welcome her, in case she was deemed uncool.

  The Booty Patrol was at the other end of the street, prepping the starting line for everyone’s big prance down Main Street, so it wasn’t as if she could form a fake line to let the others know that, hey, she had friends. She was cool.

  Her eyes scanned Main Street, looking past the swelling crowd, past the Pita Peddler cart stationed on the corner, and past the sheriff’s department roadblock, which was keeping cars off the street in downtown, and toward the long red carpet that led from the finish line to the stage. Seated there were two of the judges already in their places and talking to Harper.

  The third seat was ominously vacant.

  Estella hadn’t actually committed to judging, but Shay had been relying on the fact that the older woman wouldn’t be able to stay away. Her absence wasn’t the end of the world—Shay could always judge if need be. Nope, the end of the world would be if Estella’s absence set the tone for the day and sank her charity walk.

  Because if nobody came over to get their numbers, Shay would have a charity walk of herself, three old ladies, two dogs, and a duck, and then she’d have to refund all of the preregistration money they’d collected. Money that she’d already given to the contractors who’d been hard at work all week.

  “They’re waiting for me,” a low and gritty voice said from beside her.

  Shay turned and the jitters in her stomach kicked up a notch. Because there, coming in at six feet two of department-certified alpha swagger and armed to the teeth with enough yummy male to make a grown girl sigh, stood Deputy Baudouin. He wore mirrored aviator glasses, combat boots, and a smile that told her beneath the Kevlar and ammo was just Jonah. Her Jonah. The guy who caused those silly little zings.

  Zings that did double time when she saw what he had strapped to his hip. In his holster, also looking locked and loaded, sat Kitty Fantastic in a black tee that said BACKUP.

  Following her gaze to his hip, he shrugged. “Wouldn’t let me near him with a leash, acted like it was an insult to his entire species, so I told him he could ride sidearm, as long as he promised not to scratch my recliner.”

  She fought hard to hide her grin. “How is that going?”

  He looked at Kitty Fantastic, who had his little paws on the rim of Jonah’s holster, and gave his ears a ruffle. “Don’t know. We haven’t really figured out the whole ‘no litter box’ thing today, but we’re working on it.”

  “Are you allowed to have him when you’re on duty?” Shay asked.

  “After we finish the walk, he’ll go back in his cage at the station.”

  Shay found it hard to talk past the lump in her throat. “You’re walking?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He smiled. “That’s what I was saying. Everyone here is waiting for me so they can pick up their numbered bib.”

  Shay looked around and noticed that people were starting to meander a little closer to the table now that Jonah was there. Was he her ticket to acceptance? Not that she wouldn’t accept the one degree of separation, but she had hoped that she could win the town over on her own. Not on who she was sleeping with. She’d been there with Lance—and look how that ended.

  Shay swallowed. “I don’t understand.”

  But even as she asked the question, it started to make sense. Mrs. Moberly was standing just a few feet away with Boss, who was decked out in enough gold chains to pass for a mob don. Sh
e raised her hand and waved, big and open and all smiles.

  Beside her, parked next to the curb in her scooter, was Ms. Abernathy with Yodel riding shotgun, a silver helmet on his head, a black leather vest on his back, his paws resting on the handlebars. Even Mr. Barnwell was there with Domino.

  “Trouble, in this town every parade is kicked off by someone in the mayor’s office. Usually it is the mayor, but he put this event in my hands, so today that honor goes to me.”

  Shay wondered if the mayor’s absence was due to the article or his son’s ridiculous campaign, then decided not to focus on who wasn’t there and instead on who was.

  “And since there is some kind of numbered bib rumor flying around, people were waiting for me to sign up before they got in line.” Then he pulled an application from his front pocket, making sure to flap it around to draw as much attention as possible, before setting it on the table. Not that he needed the theatrics. Pretty much every eye on Main Street had zeroed in on her table the second Jonah strode up. “I’d like to enter Kitty Fantastic in the charity walk.”

  Adam came to stand beside Jonah and cleared his throat. When Jonah let out a big, irritated sigh, Adam waved his hand impatiently as if to say Please, go on.

  Jonah glared but pulled out a deputy’s ball cap that was hanging from the back of his utility belt. “And I have over a dozen sponsors, mostly guys from the department and family members, each pledging a hundred bucks if I wear the hat.”

  He shook out the hat, placed it on his head, and frowned. Across the front of the cap, and under the department title of deputy, in the space that was usually blank, was an additional word. It looked a part of the hat, as if it were officially department issued.

  “Deputy Pussycat?” Shay put a hand to her mouth to keep from laughing. “You’d really wear that?”

  He quirked a brow.

  Of course he would, she thought. Jonah would do just about anything for the people he cared about. At the thought a zing ricocheted through her entire body and that bead of hope that had started a few days ago began to grow and take form.