Falling for the Enemy

by Samanthe Beck

  Tyler squinted at the sky, adjusted his blue ball cap, and nodded. “My crew is pretty stretched, but this is a small job—smaller if you plan on helping. I can put a few guys on it later this week, assuming the weather holds.”

  “Sounds good.” He stepped onto the ladder again. “I’ll give you a deposit. Just let me know the damage.”

  Longfoot followed him down, descending the ladder with the ease of someone who did it routinely. Shaun flashed back to the summer between fourth and fifth grade, sneaking out of his house after dark by scaling the trellis outside his bedroom window to meet up with Roger Reynolds and some other guys in the neighborhood and explore the old Browning farm. What ten-year-old boys could resist a big, abandoned property? Some nights guys a few years older, like Longfoot and Junior Tillman, wound up there too, usually with a six pack of beer and a Penthouse. Good times were had by all.

  “Straight labor?” Longfoot’s question pulled him back to the here and now.

  Shaun nodded. “Supplies are covered. I’ve got an in at the hardware store.” His family owned it.

  Longfoot laughed, and then quoted him a fair figure.

  “Done. Come in.” He gestured to the door. “I’ll write you a check.”

  He swung into the kitchen to grab his checkbook, and paused at the fridge. “Water?”

  “Thanks.” Longfoot accepted the bottle Shaun held out to him and ran his other hand over the newly installed soapstone countertop surrounding the matching farmhouse sink. “Nice. You do this yourself?”

  “Yep.” He opened his checkbook and started writing. “The slabs were a bitch to maneuver, but I got them in. I used two pieces around the sink rather than risk a break. If you look closely you can see the seams.”

  The other man looked closely and ran a finger down one seam, testing the smoothness. “Tight. Did you install the floor, too?”

  Shaun handed him the check and then glanced down at the ebonized, wide-plank floors. “I did. I thought about refinishing the original pine floors, but they were too far gone. Too thin in the high-traffic zone.”

  Longfoot nodded while he folded the check and slipped it in the back pocket of his jeans. He stepped to the sink, lifted the single-lever faucet handle and let the water flow for a moment. Then he watched it drain, crouched down and looked in the cabinet under the sink. “Did your own plumbing?”

  Shaun got the odd sense he was on a job interview. “I did. Here and in the downstairs bathroom.”

  “You picked up some interesting talents in the SEALs.”

  Shaun felt surprise lift his brows.

  “Your father talks. He’s proud.”

  “Well, I can’t give the Navy complete credit. I participated in some building projects here and there, mostly for charity.”

  “What are you doing with yourself nowadays?”

  Shaun pointed to the roof.

  “That’ll be done by the end of the week. What then?”

  Good question. One he’d been asking himself whenever Tom or his mom or somebody else wasn’t asking. “I’m weighing my options.” Sounded better than fuck if I know.

  “I wasn’t kidding when I said my crew was busy this summer. We could use more hands, particularly skilled ones. If you’re interested, let me know. I’ll put you to work.”

  The knee-jerk refusal leaped to his tongue, because he’d been drifting and dabbling long enough. He needed to figure out his next move, not find another stop-gap, but what came out of his mouth instead was, “Thanks. I appreciate the offer—”

  “One of the projects is the old Browning place.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  Longfoot nodded. “I bought it. We’re salvaging and rehabbing as much as possible. Stop by the job site next time you’re down that way. I don’t guarantee beer and porn these days, but I guarantee you’ll take a trip down memory lane.”

  He never considered himself particularly nostalgic about his childhood, so the allure of the invitation surprised him. The impulse to load Virginia into the passenger seat of the Jeep and take a drive out to the Browning farm some free evening surprised him, too. He could picture her sitting beside him, a breeze ruffling her hair. A nice visual. Too bad it could never happen. In deference to her desire to keep things between them under the radar, he always came to her place after dark, parked down the street, and left well before dawn.

  “What if I bring the beer and porn?”

  Tyler grinned. “Then you’ll be the most popular visitor we’ve had so far.”

  …

  Something soft brushed over the bare skin along the inside of Ginny’s arm. Since her wrists were tied to her bedposts, there wasn’t much she could do to protect the vulnerable flesh.

  “Go for a drive with me Friday evening.”

  Shaun’s voice teased the tiny hairs in her ear canal, but the pillowcase he’d knotted around her eyes like a blindfold prevented her from seeing him. He was resourceful with the bed linens. The SEALs would be proud.

  The brush swept along the underside of her breast, and then up to her nipple. She gasped as tiny bolts of pleasure ravaged her nerve endings. “What?”

  The wide, soft-bristled brush trailed down the center of her torso. She writhed under the torture.

  “I like this thing.” He swept the brush up the same path he’d just traveled, and swirled it over her other nipple. “What’s it for?”

  “Applying blush,” she managed, and then moaned as he feathered the mink bristles over her skin.

  “I’m not even sure what that is. Tell you what, sweet Virginia, I’m going to use it to make you come.” To prove his claim, he stroked down her stomach and brushed her pubic hair. She dug her heels into the mattress and raised her hips. She couldn’t help herself.

  “Now that’s a staggering sight.”

  The soft fan feathered along her inner thigh. Up, up, up. She held her breath as he dabbed her most sensitive parts, and then painted her other thigh with the damp bristles.

  “Please.”

  The brush swirled over her center again, but this time he turned it around and used the thick, wooden end. He slid it into her, but before she could say a word about the unanticipated penetration, his tongue flicked over her clit.

  “Oh, God.”

  He rocked the handle into her, in quick, rhythmic strokes, as his mouth sucked her sanity away in long, deep pulls…sucked it right out of her body.

  The brush disappeared. She had one bereft moment to cry his name before his hot, hard length filled the void. Her body clenched around him like a savior, and spiraled into ecstasy. In the midst of the chaos, he murmured something that sounded like, “Take a ride with me.”

  The last aftershocks of an awe-inspiring orgasm rattled through her, and she wasn’t sure she heard him right. The blindfold loosened and fell away. She blinked her eyes open, and looked up at him. “Do what? When?”

  He stared down at her from the distance of his braced arms, and then turned his head and placed a kiss on the inside of her left knee, and then her right. Both sat in easy range of his lips, because somewhere along the line, one of them had hitched her legs over his shoulders. He relaxed his arms and brought his body down to hers in a slow, controlled descent. “A drive. With me. Friday.”

  She lowered her legs and wrapped them around his waist for the sheer thrill of holding him to her a little longer, enjoying the weight of his body pressed to hers. “Where?”

  “Out to the Browning farm.”

  Her heart kicked up a little at the invitation, inadvisable as it was. How would it look if people spotted them hanging out together? Questions would be raised, to say the least. She snuggled her face against his neck and inhaled the warm, slightly woodsy scent of his skin. “Uh-oh. Sounds like somebody’s been talking to Tyler.”

  He untied her wrists, wrapped an arm around her, and rolled until he’d reversed their positions. “I have. We finished my roof this afternoon and I went over and checked out the site. Longfoot told me they still need hands, so I’m
going to join his crew and put some work in on the restoration.”

  His tone remained casual, but she could tell he was excited…or at least interested. A little bubble of happiness floated up into her chest. Working with those guys would do him good. Get him out of his own head. “I’m glad you’re going to lend a hand on the Browning place. Everybody in town is looking forward to seeing how the project turns out, including me. The farm is a piece of Bluelick’s history, and it’s been left rotting on its foundations for too long.” She darted a glance at him, and then traced the letters of his tattoo. “Plus, I like thinking about you out there, all shirtless and sweaty, with Tyler and Junior and the rest of their team.”

  “Spend a lot of time thinking about me shirtless and sweaty, do you?”

  More than she should. “Don’t let it go to your head. To be honest, what I really like is the idea of you among a group of people, instead of holed up in your cabin all by yourself.”

  “I’m fine on my own. With a rare exception or two”—he leaned down and kissed her where her shoulder met her neck—“I prefer my own company.”

  “I doubt that. You went to boarding school, and then Annapolis, then the SEALs. You’re used to living, training, and working as a team. You’ve been doing it over half your life. This wall-of-privacy thing you’ve got going is new for you, not the norm.”

  His expression told her she’d blindsided him with the insight. It shouldn’t have bothered her. A lot of people discounted her as nothing more than a good-time girl and a gossip—Tom, for one—but she’d hoped she rated a bit higher with Shaun.

  “Maybe I hit my limit on group participation, and now I’ve swung to the other end of the spectrum?”

  “Nope.” She forced the weight of disappointment off her chest and concentrated on him. “The fallout from your last mission and a difficult transition to civilian life shoved you to the other end of the spectrum, but you won’t stay there forever. Despite what you say, part of you wants to be around people. That’s why you sneak into the back of church and watch the service, or walk downtown for no reason.”

  He gave her a long, assessing look, and then his mouth quirked up in a small grin. “You’ve got me all figured out, haven’t you?”

  “Hardly.” She nudged his foot with hers. “For instance, I can’t for the life of me figure out why you want to go out to the Browning estate tomorrow evening, with me.”

  “Because everybody in town is looking forward to seeing how the project turns out, including you. I figured you might enjoy a preview. It’s a pretty property, even with the main buildings under construction. The crew clocks out at four, so if we arrive around sunset we’ll have the place to ourselves. I’ll bring some sandwiches, and a blanket. We’ll douse ourselves with Off, have a picnic by the pond, and watch the stars come out.”

  “Sounds very peaceful.”

  “Some of it would be,” he agreed, “but you should also prepare for some vigorous moments.” His big hand found her butt and squeezed playfully.

  Yeah, and afterwards, he’d drop her off on her doorstep and drive home to sleep in his own bed, because God forbid he so much as nap at her place. In theory, his habit of leaving worked out for the best. The last thing she needed was Ms. Van Hendler getting an eyeful of Shaun stumbling out her door at dawn. A tidbit like that would travel down every spiraling branch of the local grapevine faster than she could say “lost credibility.” But in practice, waking up to an empty bed sucked. At least it did now, for some reason.

  The solution seemed simple enough to her. She could spend the night at his place, because the cabin offered all the privacy anybody could want. The only thing standing in her way was lack of an invitation. And that stung. It also left her conflicted about this invitation. Was this a date? Was he attempting to share something of himself with her, or let her into his life by taking her to a place he’d be spending significant amounts of time and energy? Or was he just down for some outdoor adventures?

  Because she didn’t know, and pride forbade her from asking, she rolled off him, stretched, and dodged the issue. “Tyler’s got his hands full right now, between rehabbing the horse farm, and basically rebuilding Josh and Melody’s house from the ground up after crazy Rusty Deemer burned it down.”

  The look Shaun sent her told her he’d noticed her retreat, but he didn’t call her on it. “I heard about that. Fireman arsonist, right here in Bluelick.”

  “It’s one of the reasons I’m running for mayor. The sheriff’s department dragged its feet on the investigation. They refused to take the first incidents seriously, even after Josh told them he suspected arson. He had to force them to do their job.” She managed to refrain from adding, And your father did everything he could to stop Josh from pushing on them, including threatening to fire him.

  “Don’t think much of the organization, huh?”

  “Maybe they do a fine job for the rest of the county, but they treat us like the red-headed stepchild. It’s not like we demand a lot of attention and resources—normally things around here are pretty quiet—but when we have a problem, we deserve to have them take it seriously, not just go through the motions. A local police department would provide the support we need, at equal or better cost.”

  A memory niggled at her. The night Justin…er…correction, an unidentified person, had sprayed graffiti on her wall, Shaun had been the one to insist she call the sheriffs, and he’d been on a first-name basis with both deputies. “You seemed familiar with the deputies who came out to take the report. Why was that?”

  He rubbed his palm over his jaw. “I almost joined the department.”

  That piece of news surprised her enough to have her sitting up and reaching for her robe. It figured. They were already ridiculously wrong for each other. Him serving the institution she’d made it a cornerstone of her campaign to displace was about the only thing that could possibly make them a more inappropriate couple. “Almost?”

  “I applied shortly after I got out of the SEALs, and got an offer, contingent upon me completing training at the academy in Rochester. Your buddy Trent and I were in the same class.”

  And yet he wasn’t a member of the department. She had a hard time imagining he washed out of the police academy. Physically, he could tackle anything. Heck, she owed life and limb to his quick instincts and reflexes. He was up to date on technology and had a solid tactical background thanks to the SEALs. Law enforcement seemed perfect for him. “So, what happened at the academy to change your mind?”

  He frowned at the ceiling. “Nothing. I completed my eighteen weeks, no problem. But getting the slot was competitive, and at graduation I overheard some people talking about how I got bumped to the front of the line of candidates because Tom put in a word with the sheriff. I didn’t ask him to do that, and hadn’t realized he’d pulled any strings, but when I asked him, he admitted he had.” He glanced over to her and shrugged. “I decided not to swear in.”

  Damn Tom Buchanan and his good-old-boy networking ways. Still, she figured his heart had been in the right place. He’d wanted to help his son. Misguided, sure, but understandable. “Don’t let pride stand in the way of something you want. Maybe Tom opened a door for you, but you still had to walk through. You did work and complete the training. You earned the job.”

  “I like the way you think, but unfortunately the logic doesn’t hold. At least one other applicant never got a shot at the academy because he didn’t have a daddy with the juice to get him in the door. I appreciate what Tom was trying to do, and, frankly, I should have suspected something when I got the slot right off the bat—one, because I know my father, and two, because local budgets being what they are, I ought to have realized there was a waiting list of candidates I was magically leapfrogging.”

  “But—”

  “Relax, sweet Virginia, I’m not brokenhearted over my decision.” He brushed his thumb over the space between her brows, where she knew her consternation always showed. “I earned my place at Annapolis, just like the
rest of my classmates. Nobody opened any doors for me. I earned my slot on my SEAL team. I earned every rank and commendation I ever received. When it comes right down to it, I’m not interested in joining an organization that operates on anything less than talent, effort, and accomplishment. The sheriff’s department doesn’t meet those standards.” He shrugged again, folded his arm behind his head and settled back against the pillow. “It’s not the place for me.”

  She admired his standards, but where did they leave him? “Where is the place for you?” The question came out soft, because she knew he was still figuring that out, and the answer might not involve Bluelick. A fact she’d known from the start, but let herself push to the background along with all the other reasons getting involved with him was such a bad idea.

  “I don’t know yet,” he admitted, and she noticed the tension in his jaw and the grim set of his mouth. “I didn’t think much of the way the sheriff’s department operated, but the underlying work appealed to me, and, frankly, I’m good at it. Bigger law enforcement agencies are the ones hiring most regularly right now, so I submitted applications in Atlanta, Cincinnati, and a few other places, but it could be months before I hear anything.”

  He looked so…remote. He’d grown up here, had family here, but in a lot of ways, this man was an island. No. Not true. An island, at least, stayed in one place. Shaun could be moving on as soon as a job offer came through. Important new fact to keep in mind, as if she needed another reason why Shaun Buchanan and Virginia Boca did not have a future.

  But you have the here and now. She reached over and rested her hand on his chest. His attention immediately shifted to her. He returned the favor, slowly cupping her breast, before moving his hand down her body. Her heart raced as he closed in on one of his favorite destinations.

  She wrapped her fingers around his wrist, closed her eyes, and groaned in anticipation of a Navy SEAL invasion.

  His voice reached her ears a moment before the assault commenced. “I think, for the moment, I’m right where I’m needed most.”