by Maisey Yates
And so they’d done whatever they’d had to.
School days had been torture for a while. He’d been in hell wondering if his sister was being cared for while he was trapped in a classroom, Kate in a crib while his father drank the day away.
Fortunately, Connor did more with the ranch as a fifteen-year-old than their father had ever done, and they’d earned enough money to put Kate in full-time day care.
So Connor would get up before school and do what needed to be done on the ranch, and Eli would get up and wake Kate. Give her a bath, wash and braid her hair. There was too much to do for him to allow chaos, too much at stake to ever let Kate look like she was less than lovingly cared for.
Connor and Eli had kept up appearances until the old bastard had driven off one of the winding Copper Ridge roads five years ago, drunk as hell, and nobody had been in the dark after that.
In so many ways, it was easier with their dad dead. At least they didn’t have to take care of him now, too.
Well, you did a terrible job of taking care of him in the end.
He shook that thought off. What the hell was wrong with him today? Sex against a wall and this stupid stuff.
He didn’t like reflecting on the past, and he wasn’t really sure why he was doing it now. Maybe just because today sucked like that.
But did it really suck? Because, be honest, you’ve never had sex that good.
No, he hadn’t. And that made it even worse.
Because no matter how bad of an idea he thought it was, he wanted more. The temptation to shove her down onto the floor, hook her legs over his shoulders and have his way with her had been way too big, which was why he’d stormed out of there as quickly as he could.
Because he didn’t trust himself. He almost didn’t know himself, and for a guy like him, that was a terrifying admission.
“Well, genetically,” Connor said, “I think we can all agree that other than in the looks department, we lost the parental lottery.”
Eli almost laughed at that since Connor was currently looking shaggy enough that it would take a very close inspection to decide whether or not he was good-looking.
“But seriously,” Kate said, “brothers are actually good for a lot of things. So...I’ve never felt like it was so bad.”
Eli cleared his throat. “Dammit, Kate, why’d you have to get all sincere?”
“You have to warn a guy, Katie,” Connor added.
“Call me Katie again, and I won’t say anything nice to you for the foreseeable future.” And it was all back to normal already.
Okay, he’d screwed up earlier. No denying that. And things were going to be weird for a while. And hard for a while, which was a potential double entendre Sadie would have enjoyed. But he still had Kate and Connor. And his run for sheriff. So most areas of his life were fine. He was just going to rope off that little disaster labeled Sadie and avoid it for the time being. Pay attention to the good and ignore the wreckage.
The incredible, mind-blowing wreckage.
He took a bite of pizza, even though he wasn’t hungry. Tomorrow he was back to work. And with any luck, that would help keep his mind off things he had no business thinking about.
* * *
CAMPAIGN SIGNS AND POSTERS weren’t enough, it seemed. Not for the general election. TV ads and radio spots were needed. According to Lydia at least.
He knew those things were probably necessary, and he’d done some checking into it already, but there was something about the way Lydia talked about the election, filled with spark and enthusiasm, that made it seem like a very daunting reality.
Made him fear it was just too damn much to take on. The feeling he was sinking beneath a pile of endless work was one he’d had for most of his life, so it wasn’t new. But it didn’t mean he had to like it.
He ought to slap a campaign manager button on her chest and hire her right here in the coffee shop. But that would mean constant exposure to this level of energy and ideas, and he wasn’t sure he could handle that now.
Not with hurricane Sadie encroaching on his borders.
Eli was starting to think he needed to buy coffee somewhere else. But other than The Grind the closest place with decent caffeine was fifteen miles away and it wasn’t his usual assignment. And he basically had no reason ever to drive there for a latte, even when it meant avoiding Lydia’s too-keen eyes.
After what had happened with Sadie it felt exposing, and made him feel a little guilty. Which was stupid, because if Lydia was interested in him, he’d never given her a reason to be. And he shouldn’t feel at all like he’d somehow led her on.
But he did. And he felt even worse because she was helping with the Independence Day Community Whatever and because she seemed so invested in his campaign.
And if she found out he’d slept with Sadie...well, the help would likely be withdrawn from both endeavors. Which, when he thought about it, was more tempting than it should be.
“I think you should do a full-color spread,” Lydia was saying now.
“Excuse me?”
“Like...put your picture on the posters and the signs. I feel like you have the looks to really grab voters.”
“Is that...a thing?” he asked.
She smiled. “It’s always a thing. I mean, when you’re as kind and dedicated as you are, handsomeness shouldn’t matter. But it certainly enhances things. It’s part of charisma.”
He was so rarely accused of having that.
“Well, the other guy running certainly has a lot of good qualities, and has years more experience than I do.”
“He isn’t from Copper Ridge, though. And since this is the largest town in the county, that matters. They just work here. It’s different.”
It was in his mind, too. Man, it would be so much easier if he found Lydia attractive. Ferret-like levels of energy aside, she was pretty amazing. They could work together on his campaign, and hell, in spite of his gut opposition to a wife and family, he could eventually settle down with someone like her and they could be the unofficial king and queen of Logan County.
Too bad a stick in the eye sounded more appealing.
He looked away from Lydia, across the street, and saw a messy blond bun bobbing on the far side of the cars parked against the curb. And he knew, instantly, who the bun belonged to.
He’d avoided her for three days. Three days without seeing her and kissing her, or putting her up against the wall and banging her.
It had been a successful, if not entirely fun, three days.
The identity of his visual target was confirmed when she appeared through a gap in the parked cars, turning away from the street and facing the wall of one of the shops. She set a stack of papers on the ground and held a staple gun up. Pressing one sheet of paper to a bulletin board and holding the gun against it, she efficiently shot a staple into each corner, before bending and picking up the flyers again and moving on to the next shop.
They were maybe fifteen feet apart, but that didn’t stop her from adding a flyer to that board, too.
“Sorry,” he said to Lydia. “I have to...law enforcement business.”
He walked to the end of the sidewalk, to the crosswalk, and moved quickly across to where Sadie was.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
She turned, her expression fierce as she pressed the trigger on the gun and shot a staple through the paper and cork board. “Posting posters,” she said.
She lowered her hand to her side and lifted her eyebrow, the staple gun menacing in her dainty hold.
“I can see that.”
He looked behind her head and read the words.
Logan County Community Barbecue
Independence Day
Come to the Garrett Ranch for food, fun and games.
Horseshoes, pie eating contest, live music
and a barbecue battle.
“Well, this is...firming up.”
She looked down below his belt pointedly, raising her arm, and the staple gun wi
th it. “Is it?”
He frowned. “Sadie...”
“Give the guy a little sex and suddenly he gets the dick jokes.”
“Are you mad at me?” he asked.
“Did you expect me to be super thrilled with you?”
“I expected you to do the socially acceptable thing and pretend nothing happened while you brooded silently. That was my plan.”
“Too bad for you, I’ve never excelled at the socially acceptable.”
“Look, let’s talk about this,” he said, indicating the poster. “Not...the other thing. This is good. The other is bad.”
“The other was actually quite good, if I say so myself. I am apparently not only good in bed, but good against the wall. Adding it to my résumé.”
“Why are you so difficult?” he asked.
“I don’t know. Character flaw? Asset? You be the judge.”
“And I’m trying to be nice.”
“Not doing a very good job.” She propped her chin on the staple gun handle.
“So why don’t you try to play nice for two seconds. Why don’t you go ahead and not keep bringing up what I think is sort of an awkward moment for both of us.”
“I don’t think awkward is the word I would use,” she said, frowning.
“It’s not?”
“It was actually really athletic. I thought we were kind of awesome.”
“Yeah, I guess we were,” he said, taking a sip of his latte as an involuntary smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
“Ah, the male ego,” she said, giving him the squinty eye. “So susceptible to praise. Now suddenly The Sex exists.”
“I know it exists. I just don’t see the point of doing a postmortem on something that we both know can’t happen again.”
“Why not?” she asked.
“Because. Because it can’t,” he said, feeling the conviction leak out of his words as he spoke them.
“Because why?”
“Because we don’t get along. And I’m busy running for sheriff.”
“Yeah, well, I’m busy, too.”
“And I’m busy with cows.”
“Moo,” she said.
“That is absurd.”
“Yep.”
“And cute,” he said, trying to get a handle on the heat firing through his veins.
Then her cheeks turned pink, a smile curving her lips. “Aw, you think I’m cute.”
“I think puppies are cute, too. Don’t go getting a big head.”
“And cats?”
He shook his head. “You know I don’t think cats are cute.”
“Which is another reason we shouldn’t have sex, is that right? Because I love cats. Not just Toby. I love every kind of cat.”
“Yeah, no.”
“Also, you’re humorless.”
“Untrue.”
She crossed her arms beneath her breasts and leaned back on her heels. “Is it? Tell me a joke.”
“I’m not going to tell you a joke.”
“So you are humorless.”
He paused for a second, genuinely considering telling her one just to get her off his back and prove that he had humor, dammit. But then for some reason, he could think of only one joke. And it was...well, not the kind of joke he should tell.
“Well?” she asked, cocking her head to the side.
“Fine,” he said through gritted teeth. “What’s the difference between snow boys and snow girls?”
“What?” she asked, smiling wide.
He sighed heavily. “Snowballs.”
“Ha! You said balls. Also, that is a terrible joke.”
“It’s the only one I could think of.”
“I don’t think that counts toward proving your point.”
“Of course you don’t, because if it does, I win.”
“I don’t think a bad joke constitutes as a win for any involved. Are you going to stand here all day? Because I have posters to hang.”
He frowned. “And I have a job to do.”
“Are you not patrolling the streets?”
“I should be out doing traffic stops.”
“Doesn’t that just make you feel like a dick?”
“No,” he said. “I’ve lost too many people to road accidents. If I make someone mad because I pull them over or give them a ticket, that’s not really my problem. Or my concern. My concern is that they live to drive another day, as do the other people they share the highway with.”
He was annoying himself with how obnoxious he sounded, how serious and in general downbeat. Especially when talking to Sadie, who seemed to be all smiles and laughter, except when he messed with things. He was the bad guy in this scenario and he didn’t particularly like it.
“Fair enough,” she said, her voice softening. “I’m sorry, that was kind of insensitive of me.”
“Why would you ever connect doing traffic stops with the people I’ve lost? It’s my own particular issue. It has nothing to do with you.”
“We all have issues, right? And I get that you want to take care of everyone,” she said, biting her lip. “It’s pretty obvious that you really do care a lot for the people in your life. And the people here, which I think I owe you an apology about, but more on that later.”
“When later?”
“When I feel like eating dirt. Right now I don’t really want to because I’m hanging posters and I feel bad enough for saying what I did about the traffic stops.”
“Don’t feel bad,” he said, and he meant it.
She looked at him expectantly.
“What?” he asked.
She blinked. “What do you mean, what? I said I owed you an apology for saying bad things about you. Don’t you owe me one?”
“I think you’ve said a lot worse things to me than I have to you,” he said, frowning.
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah, and anyway, most of what I said was true.”
She blinked rapidly. “Excuse me?” And she was pointing the staple gun in his direction, with what appeared to be intent.
“Sadie...”
“You said that I ran from things. And that I was on my high horse. And that the work that I do is worthless. And you’re going to stand by all of that being true?”
“That’s not exactly what I said.”
“It’s pretty much what you said.”
“I’m sorry,” he said. And he was feeling pretty sorry for most everything that had happened since Sadie had come to town. He’d screwed up with her. Way more times than he wanted to count. And now she was standing here calling him on it. All of it.
She huffed out a growl. “You’re just saying it now.”
“So?”
“So it doesn’t mean anything now.”
“I give up, Sadie,” he said, turning away from her and walking back in the direction of the crosswalk.
“Wait,” she said.
He stopped. “What?”
“Don’t leave. I’m mad at you. And I feel like we haven’t resolved anything.”
“Do we need to?”
“I’d like to.”
He turned to face her again. “Okay, what is it you want resolved?”
“I was wondering something.”
“What?”
“Do you want to keep having sex?”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
SADIE COULD HAVE immediately bitten her own tongue off. Where the heck had that come from? Oh, okay, she knew where it had come from.
Sleepless nights, endless erotic dreams about his strong body, his hands, his lips, his...well, his everything. She couldn’t forget him. Couldn’t forget how amazing it was to be with him. How much she wanted him.
She was so annoyed with herself, too.
She didn’t do the physical obsession thing. She just didn’t. And here she was basically burning up her sheets alone, waking up all sweaty and tangled up in the bedding like a dolphin in a tuna net.
On the verge of orgasm and with no desire to finish the job herself. And now this.
This had come out of her mouth. On a public street, during a lovely sunny day. With children most likely playing at a nearby park.
Eli had been walking away, she’d looked at his butt, a butt that was so perfect and masculine and muscular and begging for her to touch it, and the words had just fallen out of her mouth.
He was just standing there, his expression stone, his lips pressed into a firm line.
Now she was filled with regret. Swollen with it. And she was still holding a staple gun.
It was a weird moment. There was no denying it.
“What did you say?” he asked.
“Oh, you know what I said. Why do people do that? Ask you to repeat something they heard but was totally crazy. Do you think I actually want to repeat that?”
“I have to be sure you said it,” he said. “Because honestly? My mind could be playing tricks on me. It’s entirely possible.”
“Yeah, I said it.”
“Then I have to be sure you meant it.”
He was frozen, every line in his body hard and firm, on high alert. Was he interested? All of his talk about how crazy it was—and it was—and the way he’d stormed out after... But maybe it was just because it was all making him feel as insane as she did.
Maybe it was because he wanted it but didn’t want to want it.
Well, he could join the club.
He just kept staring at her, waiting for her answer. And dammit, she didn’t know the answer. She wanted it, yes, but was she willing to engage in a purely sexual, no-strings fling with a man who made her want to pull her hair out?
“Yes.” Apparently she was. “I meant it.”
She could see his hard swallow, his teeth grinding as his jaw shifted. And she hoped, a good portion of her really hoped, that he would say no. That he would make her angry. Walk away again and say something insulting on his way down the street that would be so vile all the lust she felt for him would be knocked out of her system.
“Okay,” he said. “But I need rules.”
“I...” She couldn’t believe he’d agreed. She’d been counting on him to be the voice of reason. That was what he did, who he was, except for that time against the wall. And she’d been counting on him to make the smart choices here, since she was very obviously not going to do it. “What kind of rules?” she asked.
