by Jess Bryant
Son of a bitch, he mentally cursed himself for another wayward thought.
He needed to get laid. That was all. That had to be it. He was reacting to Lemon like a horny teenager because he’d basically become a monk in the years since his divorce. It had been too long since he’d let himself enjoy a woman so the first beautiful, soaking wet, available woman to land in his path had become the object of his lust riddled thoughts.
It wasn’t about Lemon. It would have happened with any woman. Probably.
But even still he couldn’t stop himself from stroking his fingers over the smooth skin on the inside of her wrist. He couldn’t pull his gaze away from her plump, red lips. He couldn’t force himself to push her away when her little pink tongue darted out to wet her full bottom lip anxiously.
Expectantly.
His heart thumped too hard in his chest. Did she feel it too? The sparks that had flared the moment they touched? Was that why her nipples were hard and her breathing kept accelerating? Was she attracted to him too?
He forced his eyes away from her mouth and swallowed hard when he met her gaze, “Lemon?”
“Shane...” She breathed his name and started to lean in slightly before she caught herself and cleared her throat, “You should probably let go of me now.”
“Probably.” He agreed though he didn’t release her wrist.
Her gaze darted to his mouth and he had to stifle a groan when her breasts brushed his chest again. Consciously or not, she kept moving closer to him, touching him, and he knew then it was because she was attracted to him too. This thing, whatever it was, wherever it had come from, it was mutual.
Insane, but mutual.
“Lemon…” He cleared his throat again and she smiled softly.
“Why do you keep saying my name like that?”
“Like what?”
Her eyes narrowed and he thought he knew what she was going to say before she said it. Because he heard it too. He’d said her name a hundred times, a million times probably, but he’d never felt it roll off his tongue like an endearment until now. He hadn’t meant for it to, had said it with every intention of putting some distance between them, but instead of coming out gruff and stern it sounded rough and needy and he just knew she was going to call him out on it like she had the other things.
Because that was what Lemon did. She took every opportunity to make him squirm. She’d been doing it since she was a kid. And the reminder of just how long he’d known her managed to cool his blood all over again so that he could force himself to release her and step back to a respectable distance.
Lemon’s lips pursed and she stepped back as well. Her cheeks were still flushed so he couldn’t be sure but he thought she blushed. Her lashes fluttered lightly and she shoved her hands into her pockets. When she looked back up at him, she’d pasted that same bright, clearly fake, smile back on her face.
“Like… all bossy and annoying. Duh.” She threw in a wink and a shrug just for good measure and he forced himself to play along.
She was giving him an out. Backing off. Letting it go. It was completely out of character for the girl he knew but he was thankful. Grateful. Because whatever new sparks had flared between them, they should ignore, needed to ignore. There were more important things to think about right now than the fact that he hadn’t been laid in forever and his body had apparently decided the streak needed to end with one tiny, gorgeous, completely off-limits blonde.
“Oh, I’m annoying? That’s rich coming from you.” He tried for humor but it came out feeling forced.
“I’m not annoying. I’m adorable.” She preened.
At some point in his life, he might have agreed with at least the second part of that statement. He was certain he’d found her adorable when she was chasing butterflies at his baseball games. He’d probably even found her adorable when she cursed at him for being a kill-joy after he busted her sneaking into Seth’s room. But he didn’t find her adorable now.
He found her sexy. Top to bottom, girl-next-door sexy. The kind of sexy he couldn’t afford for her to be if she was staying right across the street.
Which at least brought him back around to the more important topic at hand. She’d said she was home for a visit but it didn’t add up. Not at all.
He’d talked to her dad yesterday and if Paul had known Lemon was coming to town he’d have been screaming it from the rooftops with joy. And her parents weren’t home now. If Lorna had been expecting her oldest daughter she’d have been toiling in the kitchen all day preparing a celebration dinner. Besides that, there wasn’t a chance in hell Lorna wouldn’t have told her best friend of over forty years, his mother, who would have told him when he’d seen her earlier in the day.
Nobody had known Lemon was coming which was odd but not unheard of. She’d always been impulsive. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d packed a bag and hit the road after all. But there was something else that felt off to him and as he glanced around again, trying to figure out what it was, it hit him like a ton of bricks.
Silence. Stillness. They were alone.
There was no driver sitting behind the wheel of the expensive SUV in the driveway. No hulking bodyguard had emerged from the shadows to keep him a safe distance from Lemon when he approached. There was no buzzing with caffeine, phone stuck to her ear assistant hovering over Lemon and snapping her fingers. They were all alone and he couldn’t remember the list time that had happened.
Weird.
“Yeah, adorable like a mosquito maybe.” He tried for nonchalant as he motioned around them, “So, you’re here for a visit huh?”
“Yep.”
“Just decided to drop in on your folks and surprise them?”
“Uh huh.” She nodded slowly, “Though it seemed like a better idea before I realized they weren’t home.”
“It’s the first Thursday of the month.”
“So?”
“So, the Elks meet for dinner the first Thursday of every month. Your parents are down at the lodge with mine and nearly every other couple over the age of fifty in Fate.”
“Oh… they still do that huh?”
“Yeah, they still do that.” He smiled and asked the question he’d been holding back, “So, where’s your entourage?”
Lemon balked. It was quick and she brushed it off almost instantly but she balked. He saw it because he was watching her so carefully and because he’d learned her tells a long time ago. Her full lips thinned and her brows furrowed causing a line to appear just above her left eye. It was a scar from when she’d fallen off her bike when she was seven years old. He knew because he’d been the one to pick her up and carry her back to the house as she cried and clung to him. It was a barely noticeable scar unless her forehead pinched because she was deep in thought.
“I’m not Drake. I don’t have an entourage.” She flipped one shoulder up in a half-shrug and rolled her eyes at the same time.
“Wait? You’re not Drake? Jeez, I’m so glad I didn’t ask you to sing Hotline Bling. That would’ve been embarrassing.” He deadpanned and Lemon laughed, loudly.
“Oh, my, God. Shane Antonio Lowry…” She paused to giggle after using his full name, a crime that had earned her many a threat of bodily harm in their younger years, “You know who Drake is?”
He let her get away with it this time, “I’m not ancient, you brat.”
“Are you sure? Because you always seemed sooo much older than me when we were kids.”
“I’m thirty-four not ninety-four. I’ve heard of Drake.”
“Defensive much, old man?” She teased.
“I keep up with music trends. Drake’s cool.”
That only made her laugh harder, “I keep up with music trends? Oh lord, you sound like my dad.” She clasped her hands over her mouth suddenly, “Oh my God I just figured it out. You know who Drake is because you have a sixteen year old daughter.” She fell over in a fit of giggles again, “Admit it, Georgie’s cool. Not you. You wouldn’t have a clue who Drake was i
f it wasn’t for her right?”
He let himself enjoy the sound of her laughter even as he shook his head, “You really are a brat.”
“Because I’m totally right.”
“Because you’re getting on my nerves again and you’ve been in town like ten minutes tops.”
Lemon wagged her brows playfully, “Face it, Deputy Do-Right. I’m the most fun you’ve had in ages.”
A smart remark that would likely have been half innuendo nearly slid out of his mouth before he bit his tongue. No. He barely stopped himself. He wasn’t flirting with Lemon Kelly. No way. Especially not when she’d just reminded him of the biggest reason he had for keeping his distance from her.
Being attracted to Lemon was pointless.
She was a superstar, flitting about from place to place on a whim, as impulsive as ever. And he was a father to three young girls, responsible for giving them a steady and stable home environment. His kids had known Lemon all their lives but only as the famous woman that was friends with their family, the crazy aunt figure that popped in on holidays and sent presents on birthdays. She would never be more than that because she’d be gone again the next time the urge struck her. And that meant whatever attraction had flared between them in the rain had to go ignored. Not just for his sake but for his daughters as well.
He managed to get his libido under control by thinking about his children. He was a father, first and foremost. He was a deputy second. A son and brother and friend next. And somewhere, way down the list, he was a man. He didn’t get to think with his dick anymore. He put his kids first because that was what good fathers did and from the moment he’d found out he was going to be a dad, at the ripe old age of seventeen nonetheless, he’d made being a father his top priority.
He’d recommitted to the role tenfold after the divorce.
He’d never wanted his children to feel like they’d gotten the short end of the stick just because their parents hadn’t been able to make marriage work. When he and Holly had decided to split they’d sat the kids down and explained that it had nothing to do with them, that just because Mom and Dad weren’t going to be together anymore that they wouldn’t love them any less. Even still, they were kids, his kids, and he knew that the divorce and the changes that came with it had hit them hard.
That was why he’d always made sure they knew that his entire world revolved around them. Knew there was nothing that could ever compete with them for his love or attention. Knew that there was nobody else who would ever be as important to him.
Which was why he didn’t date. He didn’t go out. He didn’t engage with the pretty mothers at the park that smiled and flirted with him. He’d never even considered stripping them naked and doing dirty, naughty things to them until both their bodies were sweaty and sated. He’d never even been tempted. Not in years.
The fact that he’d been imagining doing just that with Lemon Kelly of all people freaked him out. It made him think that abstinence might be messing with his head. Maybe he should have indulged himself in a woman here or there over the years. Maybe then he wouldn’t feel like a pressure keg about to explode just from touching Lemon’s skin. Maybe he should find a woman and take her to bed, release some of the tension that had built up inside him. Not Lemon. Hell no, not Lemon. But maybe someone else.
He would not be indulging in that kind of fun with Lemon Kelly no matter how much his dick might like the idea of having the gorgeous, teasing blonde wrapped around him.
Trouble. She was trouble. That’s what she’d always been and what she still was. He needed to get away from her before he did something stupid. She was only visiting. She’d be gone soon enough. He’d just keep his distance for the next day or two and then she’d disappear into thin air again. Everything would be fine.
“Seeing you is always an experience, Lemon.” He stepped off the porch purposefully, “How long are you visiting for?”
Her head cocked, as if she didn’t understand his sudden retreat, “Uh, I don’t know. It’s open ended.”
He remembered then that he’d been asking about her missing entourage and almost stopped. He almost went back. He almost demanded answers because he was certain at that moment that everything she’d said and done since he started asking questions had been to distract him.
She was hiding something. Lying about something. And it flared all of his cop instincts right along with his protective instincts.
Instead he only found himself raising his eyebrows, “Open-ended?”
“A week? Maybe a couple of weeks.”
“Oh…” He couldn’t keep the surprise out of his tone but tried to downplay it with a shrug, “I guess we’ll be seeing each other then.”
“Uh, yeah, probably.”
“No probably about it.” He pointed at his house, “I live right across the street.”
Her eyes went wide, “You live there? What happened to the Smiths?”
“Mr. Smith took a job teaching in Fort Worth a few years ago and I bought it.”
He shrugged uncomfortably when a little voice in the back of his head said that buying that house had been a stroke of genius. It was a house. It was his home. He hadn’t bought it for the location. He hadn’t given it a second thought that the house was across the street from Lemon’s childhood home then and he shouldn’t have cared now either, but he did.
He liked the idea of being so close to her. Close enough to run into her accidentally. Close enough to keep an eye on her and figure out the answers to all of those questions he had. Because he had a lot of questions about the woman that looked like the girl he knew but was clearly hiding something.
“Well, I, uh… I guess it’s nice to know you’re just across the street in case I attempt to cook and accidently start a fire or something.” She nodded slowly, her brows furrowed again.
“I’m a cop, not a paramedic or a firefighter.”
“Like I could forget.” She snorted at his bland response and did a mock salute, “Thank you for protecting and serving, Deputy Do-Right.”
“Don’t try to break into your parents’ house, Lemon. I don’t want to have to arrest you. Again." He winked to lighten the mood.
“Bull.” She winked right back at him, “Come on, Shane. Admit it. You love the idea of cuffing me, don’t ya?”
He laughed at her flirtation even as that uncomfortable problem in his pants became worse, “I didn’t want to cuff you the first time but you left me no choice. You broke into the high school and set off the fire alarm! If I’d sent you home with a slap on the wrist, you’d never have learned your lesson.”
“Lessons schmessons.” She pouted, “You just liked seeing me in handcuffs.”
Heat curled through his veins despite every good intention he’d been trying to hold onto. The mere mention of Lemon in handcuffs was enough to send a barrage of dirty ideas through his head. He knew from the way she bit her lip that she was reading his mind and he swallowed a groan at the glint in her eye.
Ignoring this wasn’t going to be as easy as he thought if a couple of simple words could make the air between them sizzle. Instead of taking advantage of those sparks however, he did the right thing and backed away from the temptation she provided.
“Call your parents and have them come home and unlock the door Lemon because if you set the alarm off, I’ll be forced to detain you and trust me… I’m definitely going to use my cuffs.”
He caught her smile as he turned and headed across the street. Her light, girly laughter floated along behind him and brought on a smile of his own. He hadn’t intended it to sound flirtatious but damn if he could help himself apparently. That girl was still nothing but trouble.
Chapter Three
Lemon jolted awake at the sound of a blender. She groaned and pulled her pillow over her face. The sound of her mother creating whatever tasteless concoction her latest health craze demanded had been her morning alarm for too many years of her life to be anything other than annoyingly familiar. She kept her eyes closed unti
l the noise faded but knew it was useless. There would be no getting back to sleep now that her mind was awake and already beginning to race with questions she wasn’t ready to contemplate.
In an effort to ignore them, she opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling. The room she was in ceased to amaze her. Sleeping in her childhood bedroom was like stepping back in time. The walls were still painted a light lavender that matched the quilt on the bed. Her dresser was still in the same spot with the giant mirror above it and her bookshelf still overflowed with a mish mash of paperbacks, old cd cases and even older albums. Her photos no longer poked out from the edges of her bureau mirror and her posters of trendy teen movies and now defunct boy bands were gone, but otherwise nothing had changed.
To the naked eye, everything was just as it had always been and because of that, she’d slept like the baby she no longer was last night. She’d managed to convince herself that she was the same hopeful, dream-filled girl she’d been and her future was full of sunshine and spotlights. It was either that or the thirteen plus hours in a car that had left her so exhausted she passed out as soon as her head hit the pillow.
Unfortunately, her phone began to buzz in concert with the blender downstairs and she cursed as she threw her pillow aside and sat upright. She’d ignored the phone all day yesterday as she drove. She’d ignored it all night while she slept. But she knew that despite her simple text yesterday saying she was fine and not to worry that her assistant would likely involve the authorities if she didn’t explain herself and soon.
She picked the phone up, wondering why she’d bothered plugging it in at all, and put it to her ear, “Millie, don’t freak out…”
“Where are you? Oh my God! Lemon! Do you have idea how scared I’ve been? What were you thinking? You can’t just…”
