by Em Petrova
* * * * *
He pulled away from the kiss but moved in again, this time running his rough, stubbled jaw over her skin. He was fucking marking her. Yeah, he was an asshole. Why was he feeling so possessive toward this woman anyway?
Her chest rose and fell against his, her perky breasts cramping him into all kinds of bent-up positions. He inhaled her spicy-sweet fragrance and let her go. She dropped to her heels and stared at him, eyes hazy.
Her cheek wearing the redness of his beard scrape.
His gut clenched, balls tightened. Fuck yeah, seeing her wearing his marks dizzied him.
“I’ll make some calls about this matter.”
She blinked at his words as if she’d forgotten his reason for being here. No wonder—he could hardly think around the hard steel rod in his jeans.
“I’m not married, I’m telling you.”
“Cecily.” He looked into her eyes. Was she so naïve that she believed a fun little marriage ceremony in Vegas couldn’t possibly be legal?
The fact she didn’t even know the guy’s name gave Judd an edge of satisfaction.
“Judd, you have to believe me. I’m not married. I mean, you wouldn’t have kissed me if you actually believe that, would you?”
Fuck, now he felt like a cheater. When he’d kissed her, he hadn’t been thinking of anything but tasting her sweet, plump lips and curbing the dark urge inside him.
And claiming her.
“I know what I read on that report. Here, have a look.” He held out the paper and she took it from his hands like she was picking up a venomous snake.
He watched her face as she scanned the contents. Then she folded it neatly and handed it back to him. “I don’t believe for a minute it’s real or binding. It was a joke, a farce. We’d known each other a few hours and we never even went to bed. We got a bottle of champagne and I woke up the next morning with him gone.”
“Lots of people get married in Vegas believing it isn’t real, Cecily. Some cases, it isn’t. It’s theatrical, a show for their entertainment and their friends’ too. But in some cases, and it seems to be yours, there’s a license issued. You can see the numbers right there on the paper. In the state of Nevada, you were married.”
Cecily rubbed a hand over her eyes. Without looking at him, she said, “And you believe Cole is responsible for the break-ins here? A man I haven’t seen since that night five years ago? He doesn’t even know I own a business. He doesn’t know where I am, even. And I bet he doesn’t know we’re married either, if that’s even the case.”
Judd studied her. He hated that she was so torn up and he’d added more stress to her life. But it was definitely an avenue he had to investigate. Besides, she needed to know she was legally married so she could fucking undo it.
“If you didn’t consummate the marriage, you can get an annulment easy enough.”
She nodded. “I’ll call around and see if it’s real and then deal with an annulment if that’s the situation.” She let out a harsh sigh, and he could see how long her day had been.
Shadows like bruises smeared beneath each green eye and a trace of redness from blowing her nose too much. When she’d rubbed her eyes, he’d noticed a bandage on her forefinger.
He caught her wrist and drew her closer to inspect her hand. “You cut yourself?”
She nodded. “Just a scrape. There was a sliver of glass I didn’t see when I was cleaning up.”
Holding her hand made his pulse pound hard. His cock was stiffer than ever, and he let his gaze drop to her mouth again. What was it about this woman? Deep down he was thrilled she wasn’t truly entangled with a husband. On the other hand, he was angry with himself because he shouldn’t want any woman after what Cassie had put him through.
Still, Judd couldn’t help himself from lowering his mouth to brush against the backs of Cecily’s fingers. She jolted, but he held firmly to her hand and passed his mouth over her knuckles and then to her wrist where her pulse flickered. Under his kiss, her pulse sped up. She curled her fingers into a light fist.
He raised his head and looked into her eyes. “You’ve had a long day. You have to be hungry.”
“Not really.”
He shot a look at the pizza abandoned on the floor.
“Well, I was before I found out I might be married.”
His chest burned at the reminder. “Why don’t I walk down the street and get us something to eat. Italian this time, takeout. Can you eat Italian or does it go against your Vegan sensibilities? We’ll eat and then I’ll make sure you’re secure here so you can get a good night’s sleep.”
She laughed, a hollow, grating sound. “That’s never going to happen.”
He doubted she’d be donning those headphones anytime soon.
“I have the wood to fix your door, but I think what you’ve done will hold for a night. Besides, there isn’t much left to steal here. In the morning, I’ll have my guy come by and install a new door, a heavy one with good locks.” Troyer had told him the local store didn’t have a door to fit the odd-sized, old-fashioned opening, but Judd had a buddy in the next town who did.
“I don’t need your charity,” Cecily said.
It was too much—her big eyes, her soft body. He grabbed her and whirled her to the wall, pinning her, his body holding her prisoner.
“No, you need this.” He kissed her, this time with a passion he hadn’t shown or felt in many years. Over and over, he slanted his mouth across hers until small moans escaped her throat.
Panting, he broke free and stared down at her. She breathed heavily, her lips damp and swollen from his harsh caress.
He’d feel bad if she didn’t look so fucking perfect right now.
“Go upstairs and clean up and we’ll go to the Italian joint together.”
“I… I look terrible.”
“Impossible, but your eyes look a little red still. Go on.” He pushed her toward the stairs and she went, looking back over her shoulder once. Damn, the woman could do a lot with one long look. Did she even realize how her obeying affected him?
* * * * *
The Italian restaurant looked more like a family restaurant, lacking the décor of the places she’d been to. Judd seated her in a booth and kept glancing at her above his menu.
She sent a covert look or two his direction as well. Figuring out what was going on with him was like guessing the winning horse at a race—she was completely clueless.
He was taking her to dinner to be nice, a good Samaritan gesture because she was going through a rough patch.
So why had he kissed her? She didn’t have any answers for that one, just the residual tingles coursing through her body.
“Hey there, Sheriff. Haven’t seen you in a few days.” The waitress stood with pen poised over order pad.
With a smile, he scratched his jaw with a blunt thumbnail, creating a low rasping noise that Cecily wished she hadn’t heard. Under the table, she squeezed her thighs together. Still tasting his tongue, feeling his hands on her ass as he ravished her mouth.
Judd nodded toward Cecily to order first, and she was caught off guard. “Uhh, I’ll have the penne with pesto.”
“You want chicken with that?” the waitress asked.
“No thank you.”
“Garlic bread?”
“That will be fine.” She was relieved there was something on the menu she could order—otherwise, she’d be forced to pick around a dish that she didn’t believe in eating.
Judd got the spaghetti and meatballs.
“Big surprise.” The waitress dropped him a wink and scuttled off with their order.
He gave Cecily an apologetic smile. “I might spend too much time eating out.”
“When you’re alone, it’s harder to cook for yourself.”
“My dog wishes I would though. He doesn’t favor pasta or Chinese. Pizza suits him fine, though.”
She smiled to imagine him with a companion, sharing a pizza. It was a little sad too.
Leaning
her elbows on the table, she said, “What kind of dog is it?”
“Cattle hound. He’s a few years old but still all puppy. Loads of energy, and I don’t always have time to address those needs.”
He could spend time addressing hers…
She felt herself growing dreamy-eyed as she looked at Judd and quickly turned her attention to her straw wrapper. She crimped it into an accordion shape and let it spring open on the table several times.
“So…” He sat back to study her from steely eyes that were anything but cold right now. He’d removed his hat and placed it on the seat next to him. “Tell me about this Vegas wedding again?”
“Oh Judd.” She pasted her hand over her face and peeked between her fingers. “Do you really believe I’m married?”
“I don’t just believe it, baby doll. I know it.”
At the endearment, she squeezed her thighs together again. By the time they finished dinner, she would have the buffest inner thigh muscles of her life. Judd Roshannon was her personal ThighMaster.
“How horrible. What if he’s gotten married since?”
“I didn’t see anyone linked to him.”
Cecily stared at him. “You checked him out?”
“Just doin’ my job,” he mumbled as the garlic bread arrived, steaming and fragrant in a wicker basket.
Dinner passed with them exchanging little bits of their lives. She found out that he was a self-professed workaholic, and she confessed she was a little bit of one too, especially when she got enough clients who wanted evening hours.
“If I ever get that far,” she said ruefully, picking at her pasta. The pesto was from a jar but better than she’d been eating lately.
He set down his fork and met her gaze. “I promise I”ll catch who’s doing this to you, Cecily.”
“I know you’re busy—”
“No, I’ve been digging. Not only has Troyer been on the case, but I’ve been questioning people for days. I’m not coming up with much yet, but it won’t be long now.”
“Won’t be long?” she echoed.
He dipped his head in a nod. “That’s right. Often crimes like these take a few days or even weeks to come to light. But somebody will slip.”
“And if they don’t?”
“We get you that better door and extra locks and you keep building your business. Did your insurance check come through yet?”
She shook her head. “I need to make some calls and complain. Guess I’d better add that to my list.”
“Along with get an annulment.”
She grinned. “Yup.” She didn’t add the third thing to the growing list.
Get the sheriff to kiss her again.
* * * * *
Cecily hardly wanted to get out of bed. After the long night of tossing and turning, her mind flipping from the break-in and all she’d lost—again—to the way Judd had kissed her, she was exhausted. Not to mention the late carb load at the Italian place and she was really sluggish.
So, when she heard the pounding on her door, she could barely drag her butt up from the mattress to go downstairs and see who it was. She half expected to see Judd standing there, probably looking dashing and wide awake as only a man could after a long day. But she opened the door to see a man sporting worn jeans, a toolbelt and a broad smile.
“You must be Cecily Baker.”
She tried to smooth her hair, knowing it must be sticking up in a riot of frizzy curls. She really needed to get her life together and wake up sooner. She had appearances to keep up. Who wanted to trust a stylist who had witch hair?
The people of Bracken would start thinking of her as a lazy bum, waking late and wearing pajamas at all hours. At least these were normal sweats and not cartoon characters.
She nodded. Damn, she hadn’t even brushed her teeth. She stepped back, hoping her morning breath wasn’t evident. “Who are you?”
He chuckled, not at all offended by her bold question. “Sam Brown. I help Judd with some of his rental houses, and he sent me over to see about your door. I guess it hasn’t been delivered yet.” He looked around.
Rental houses? A new door being delivered?
She shook her head.
Before she could think of what to say to him, someone appeared behind him holding a big box wrapped in brown paper. Sam Brown moved aside to allow the man to give Cecily the package.
“What’s this?” she asked. She couldn’t remember ordering any new supplies for her store, but with everything going on, maybe she had forgotten. She looked at the surface of the box, but there was no address. It was blank.
She glanced up at the delivery man. “From the sheriff. Says to open it by this afternoon.”
She straightened. The weight of the box in her hand gave her a funny feeling low in her belly. What could be inside? And why hadn’t Judd delivered it himself?
Unsure of the kindnesses he was showering on her, she thanked the man and set the box on the desk. Again, she had no cash on hand to tip him, but he left without seeming put out. It wouldn’t surprise her if Judd hadn’t already taken care of the tip.
“If you don’t mind, I’ll go down the street and have some coffee and one of those big cinnamon rolls the coffee shop bakes. By the time I’m finished, that door should be here.”
She had nothing to say, except, “Thank you.”
The contractor left, and she closed the door, her mind wheeling. Yesterday, she’d cancelled her appointments for the rest of the week, unable to face small talk and putting on cheery airs for her clients. Not to mention she didn’t have any supplies to work with.
She turned to the box, heart hammering. Images from last night zoomed through her mind—Judd’s expression right before he kissed her the first time. The hunger in his eyes when he drew away. She’d felt how hard he was for her, his erection bulging into her lower belly. She’d replayed that kiss half the night. The other half, she’d replayed the other kiss—the one where he pinned her against the wall and plunged his tongue into her mouth until she couldn’t remember her own name.
She swallowed hard. Ignoring the twinges of need between her thighs at the memories, she slit the paper on one end of the box. Unwrapping it slowly, letting the moment build. She didn’t receive many gifts in her life, and she had no clue what this could be. Heck, if it was a bottle of shampoo and conditioner to open shop with again, it would bring her to tears.
When she lifted the white lid of the box, her breath caught. Nestled among white tissue paper was a red dress. Strapless with a V neckline. She reached into the box and pulled it out. Holding it up to find it would hit her about mid-knee.
“What the hell?” she whispered. Warmth slipped into her core, and confusion ruled her mind. What was she supposed to think of a gift like this? He’d sent her a dress? She looked back into the box.
And shoes.
Not only high heels with slender straps that would accentuate one of her slimmest parts—her ankles—but a tiny cloth bag that held earrings and a bracelet.
She dropped it all back into the box and took two steps back. Lord, what was she going to do? The sheriff was offering her something she had no idea how to take. She didn’t even know why he’d sent her such a gift.
She rummaged around the box again and came out with a card inside an envelope. It had the name of the steakhouse down the street and a time written on it.
He was requesting her presence for a date, and providing her with the outfit in case she didn’t have one.
Her heartbeat thrummed in her ears. What did she say to this unusual and high-handed request? The instant the sheriff pinned her against the wall, she knew he liked to be in control, but this was going a bit far.
Wasn’t it?
She couldn’t deny she liked the attention, and handing over the control to a man with Judd’s confidence…
Plus, the dress was beautiful.
When did he have time to go purchase these things for her on top of doing his job? She couldn’t puzzle out how he knew her sizes ei
ther.
In addition, he had a door being delivered along with a handyman to hang it?
Cecily stared at the box for another minute and then replaced the lid. She needed time to think. With all that was going on in her life, being behind on her master plan for her business plus needing to figure out the whole husband situation, how was she supposed to get dolled up and go on a date with the sheriff?
When she glanced at the dress again, a brand-new warmth flowed through her. She couldn’t deny this gesture appealed to her female sensibilities. It was something straight out of a romance movie.
But she lived in reality.
Damn, did she want to don that beautiful red dress and the accessories and look beautiful for Judd. The idea of pleasing him excited her as much as escaping from life for a few hours. She could use a dose of fairy tale and an injection of fun.
Ending the evening pinned to the wall in a pretty dress would be the icing on the hunky beefcake.
* * * * *
What the hell had Judd been thinking? He’d kissed her, which was bad enough. Then he’d barely slept, rolled out of bed with morning wood big enough to use as a support beam, and after a few calls, had his plans in place.
Cecily’s place fixed up to open for business and a dinner date with her in a slinky red dress, thanks to a saleslady who’d had her nails done by Cecily a few days back and guessed at her dress size. The shoes Judd knew.
He was putting himself on the line big time. If Aiden or West learned about what he’d done, they’d call him a fucking idiot. They’d remind him that he’d gone all-out with Cassie and look what had happened.
At least she hadn’t gotten the dog, he reminded himself.
Echo had nudged him awake at dawn, demanding a walk. He’d done better than that by taking him for a jog. Three miles before the sun fully rose hadn’t slaked the energy pounding through his system, though. He needed more of a release.
Finding his grip on control was a must. He may be taking Cecily for dinner tonight, but that didn’t mean he could have sex with her… or show her the parts of himself that needed to remain buried.
Hell, he was so bombarded with calls for the sheriff that he may not even get out to take her on their date.
