by Jennifer Ann
Her cheeks darken a little when she laughs. “Tell me more of your dad. What was he like when you were growing up?”
“He worked long hours like your dad, only I got to ride along with him in the field. I was never really into farming. When I was a kid, I just liked hanging out in the tractor so I could watch my hero go to work. In the fall, he’d put in fifteen-hour days until he was so tired he could hardly stand. He wasn’t an especially big guy, but he had massive arms from working the augers and lifting seed bags. I admired how his hands were always dirty and scarred from hard labor. I wanted to be just like him when I grew up. Then he decided I could handle driving tractor by myself and it suddenly wasn’t as much fun. Dad was a slave driver and didn’t let us have much of a social life. I was a punk about it for a while and said some things I wish I could take back, especially after Mom died. He became a completely different person once she was gone.”
“I can’t even begin to imagine what it must’ve been like for him, left to tend to all those children on his own.” Tilting her head, her eyes narrow with a look that makes me feel vulnerable. “Would you give it up then?” she asks. “Running the farm with your family?”
“It’s complicated,” I answer truthfully. While I’d give it all up in a heartbeat for a real chance to be with Sharlo, it isn't as simple as walking away without making arrangements. I can’t leave my brother and uncle high and dry now that Dad’s gone, especially when some of the land is in my name and the crops will need to be in the ground soon. “So what was it like being an only child?” I ask, hoping to skate around her unanswered question.
We share more childhood memories with each other the rest of the way as the city fades behind us, making the remainder of the two-hour trip fly by. When we’re close to our destination, I pull over to the side of the road and reach into my pocket, grabbing the tie I snagged from Charlie’s closet.
“You drove all this way to gag me on the side of a road with a five hundred dollar swatch of silk?” Sharlo asks, giving me a playful expression that makes me want to pull her outside and fuck her while she’s bent over the hood of the car. My balls tighten with the visual. “Bravo, darling. You’ve come a long way in embracing your kinky side.”
Chuckling, I swallow hard before bending to wrap the material around her head and securing it with a knot in the back. “Not now, little butterfly,” I whisper against her ear, “but definitely later.”
Her entire body shivers when I steal a slow kiss from her lips before pulling back into traffic.
Past a small bridge and a down gravel road, we arrive to a nearly empty lot. I park near the entrance before running over to the passenger side, opening Sharlo’s door, and guiding her toward the little cottage.
A round old woman with thick white hair piled on top of her head comes dashing out the front door to greet us. Wearing a long dress with bright red flowers and a wide smile that spreads her lips thin, I decide she’s the friendly type before she even opens her mouth. Glancing at Sharlo, she claps her hands together.
“Ah, young love!” she declares with a soft laugh and a slight Italian accent. “You’ve brought her here as a surprise, no?” Though slightly rattled by the old woman’s assumption that we’re in love, I nod in reply. “Eccellente! My name is Fiona.”
“I’m Sharlo and the brooding romantic one is James,” Sharlo answers, blindly sticking out to her hand for the woman to take. “Lead the way to the male revue if you must. Just know I don’t have any hard limits and enjoy a little spank or two.”
The woman refuses Sharlo’s hand, instead throwing her a stern look before motioning for me to follow. Though Sharlo’s comment about being spanked grabs my dick’s attention, I have to bite on the inside of my cheek to keep myself from laughing when she obediently walks along with me, her hand still extended.
“You can put your hand down,” I whisper. “She doesn’t seem the touchy-feely type.”
We follow a small stone path through tall grass where I spot a few free-range chickens and squirrels roaming about. The woman takes us through the first doorway inside a dome-shaped structure lined in plastic. “Follow the rules clearly printed inside the entrance, no? You pay twenty dollars each.”
I dig into my billfold and pass her a $50 bill. Without bothering to ask if the rest is a tip, the woman stuffs it down the front of her dress and starts back for the first doorway, tossing me a playful wink. “I’ll be right outside if you need anything, signore.”
“Thank you!” Sharlo calls after her. “If it’s a brilliant show, we’ll tip accordingly!”
Laughing, I lead her through the second doorway where the air feels warm and clean. Taking advantage of the moment, I stop to study the tilt of Sharlo’s lips, the gentle slope of her nose, the feminine lines of her jaw, the gentle curl of her golden hair across her slim shoulders. In nothing more than a plain gray, sleeveless T-shirt that’s somewhat loose on her but still clings to the swell of her gorgeous breasts, and modest cut-off jeans that make her legs look longer, she’d still put every centerfold to shame.
Needing someone the way I need Sharlo is a completely foreign concept, yet it somehow feels right. There’s no denying it at this point—I’m a fucking goner. Pushing my body up against hers, I reach back to release the tie.
“Keep your eyes closed,” I say before brushing my lips over hers and stepping back. When her dark lashes come into view, I grin to myself, pleased with my decision to bring her here. “You can open them, little butterfly.”
The moment her beautiful blue eyes come into view, she slaps both hands over her mouth and makes a high-pitched squeal. I’m hoping it’s a happy noise. As she tries to take in every last part of the habitat—green plants and flowers as bright as Fiona’s dress taking up every square inch—a thick dusting of black and orange butterflies takes flight, seeming curious by their new visitors. Sharlo slowly lifts her hands out at her sides, patiently waiting for several to land on her bare arms.
“Oh, James,” she declares among a sigh. It’s not the same way she breathes my name when I’m making her come, but it’s a close second.
The smile on her face stretches so wide that I feel myself matching it until my cheeks are ready to crack from the pressure. I’m able to see a glimpse of the carefree little girl who went with her dad to the beach to watch the migrating butterflies, as well as a glimpse into the kind of innocent happiness she’d have to offer our child. How could anything be better than a lifetime with someone free-spirited who makes me feel worthwhile and lets me worship her body to the point of exhaustion?
“You brought me to a Monarch sanctuary,” she finally says with a wavering smile. “Don’t tell the handsome bloke I’ve been shagging the past few days, but it would seem this even beats a proper spanking.” Then she pulls me into her arms with big fat tears filling her eyes. “You have no idea what this means to me.”
I try like hell to think of a way to tell her what she means to me, but I’m caught up by the tender way she strokes my cheek and looks up at me like I’m the only guy in the world. I tilt her chin back and kiss her the way she deserves, wanting to show her the words I can’t seem to say.
Thoughts of returning home cracks me hard in the chest. As much as it hurts, it’s inevitable.
Chapter 12
JAMES
It’s still halfway dark outside and Sharlo’s sleeping soundly in my arms when I wake to the sound of my ring tone. The night before we ordered dinner from Sharlo’s favorite burger joint and watched a new release with her curled up against me. After deciding the movie was lame, she straddled me on the couch and gave me the most sensual lap dance of a lifetime. I took her to bed and we went at it hard until we both passed out from exhaustion.
It’s nearly been a solid week since we reconnected, one that’s been filled with exploration of each other’s bodies and minds. Things changed between us after I took her to see the butterflies. Every touch meant something. Relentless fucking took a back seat to slow and steady sex in a s
ilent devotion of our bodies. It’s impossible to think about anything but her, even when I’m supposed to be concentrating on my technique with Manny in preparing for the upcoming match with Freddie.
More than ever I dread what it will be like when I’m forced to return home for planting in a couple of weeks. I don’t ever bring it up, and I’m beginning to suspect Sharlo’s in denial since she’s always going out of her way to avoid the subject, except for when we were in the rental car and she asked if I’d give it up.
My phone continues to ring, ripping me away from my thoughts. First taking a minute to inhale her intoxicating scent and nestle my lips in the thick of her soft hair, I silence the ringer and disentangle our limbs before sneaking out into the hallway.
“James,” my twin greets me in a slow, reluctant voice, “you have to come home. The FBI arrested a suspect in connection with Dad’s murder.”
Being around Sharlo has done a helluva job repressing the anger that reared its head the night of Dad’s funeral, but with Hunter’s news, the dam suddenly breaks free. My fingers grip my phone so tightly that I’m surprised when I don’t hear the stupid thing crack.“Who?”
“This isn’t something I should tell you over the phone.”
“Hunter, fucking tell me or I swear to god—”
“It’s Uncle Orin.”
What the fuck?
Ice cold dread trickles down my back. Why—what reason would Dad’s own brother have to kill him? They’ve had minor disagreements over the years, but nothing violent or too earth-shattering. Uncle Orin has always been a pretty laid back kind of guy, a lot like Dad, and they acted like the best of friends as much as they were brothers. When the FBI first told us they believed Dad and Uncle Orin had conspired for years with a government employee to get more money out of the state’s conservation program, I thought the idea was bullshit. But maybe it wasn’t Dad. Maybe Uncle Orin was the one scamming money, and Dad tried stopping him. My mind can’t wrap around the other alternatives.
“They won't say what they have on him,” Hunter continues, “but it can’t be good. He’s in there without bail. You’re gonna have to come back, JD. This has turned into a real cluster-fuck. We have to plan for planting since it doesn’t look like he’ll be out by then. I can’t run the planter and take care of everything else on my own.”
“I’ll be on the first flight out.”
Numb, I end the call. The possibility that my own flesh and blood is a murderer festers in my gut, threatening to purge everything from the night before. It’s like one of those shitty detective shows Dad liked to watch has become my real life.
Staring down at my phone, I try to get my shit together. The match with Freddie will have to be cancelled and I don't have Manny’s number, but it’s almost six-thirty and he’s always in the gym by six. Guess I’ll be hitting the gym one more time before I have to split.
I steal back into the room, slipping into a T-shirt and gym shorts. Sharlo makes a cute little moaning noise from the bed, jarring me back to reality. How in the hell am I supposed to head home and leave her behind?
“Everything alright, luv?”
Fucking hell. Every time she calls me that, I struggle with whatever’s happening between us. I know it’s a term she uses on all her friends, but her voice sounds different when she uses it on me, like it means so much more.
“I have to go,” I grunt with my back still to her. If I turn and look into her beautiful eyes, it’ll only be harder to let her go. “Hunter needs me.”
“You’re going home?” she asks, suddenly right behind me. When her thin arms wrap around my waist and her warm, naked body presses to my back, I clench my jaw. “I thought we had more time.”
“Don’t have a choice. Something came up and I have to help run the farm.”
“Were you planning to leave a tip on the nightstand before you left?” Though she’s trying to make light of a situation as usual, I can hear the disappointment she’s trying to hide.
The thought of leaving her is more painful than I could’ve imagined, like someone reached into my chest and ripped my heart out with their bare hand. I whip around to take her delicate face in my hands. “Come with me.”
Her blue eyes widen and a hotter-than-shit smirk pulls at one side of her lips. “Exactly how long will you be staying?”
“A few weeks, maybe more.”
The smirk fizzles. “I can’t stay that long. I still put in occasional shifts at the gallery and our fashion line demands my attention.”
“Can’t Katie handle it until Evelyn returns?”
With a gut-wrenchingly sad look, she pulls my hands away from her face. “I want to be there for you, luv. I really, really do. But you can’t ask me to sit around on your ranch and do nothing while you’re off working ungodly hours. That sort of thing would drive me nutters. I don’t mind popping back for a visit, but that sort of lifestyle isn’t my cuppa tea. Without having the option of shopping for anything my heart desires in the middle of the night, or the constant bustle of traffic and rude people to keep me on my toes, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”
And there it is, the biggest obstacle keeping us apart. While I don’t mind the big city life, and I actually dig my sister’s quiet little neighborhood, I have a duty to carry on Dad’s legacy and keep the farm running. Letting myself feel something for this beautiful, perfect woman was as stupid as thinking I ever had a chance at becoming a boxing champ.
With my stomach coiled into a tight knot, I turn my back on her naked body before I do something stupid like take her back to bed and beg her to change her mind. “After I’m packed, I have to run down to the gym to tell Manny the match is off.”
“What time’s your flight?”
“Haven’t booked one yet.”
“I’ll see what’s available,” she offers. Then she steps in beside me to rest her hand on my bicep and asks in a soft voice, “When will you be coming back?”
“I don't know,” I answer too roughly. “After we’ve finished planting, there’s spraying to be done and I have to help my brother sort through some other shit.” When I turn to catch her pained expression, I can hardly breathe. “You’ll call me when you know? I mean…if there’s a baby?”
“Of course,” she answers in a mockingly-cheery tone. I catch the glimmer of tears in her eyes before she moves away to slip into her panties and bra. “Once we’ve booked you a flight, I’ll arrange for a car to take you to the airport.” A minute later she’s fully dressed and returns to me with another depressingly weak smile. With her hands resting on my chest, she rises to her tip-toes and brushes her lips over mine. Then her mouth moves to my ear, her lashes brushing over my cheek, and she whispers, “I’ll miss you, my love.”
Each of her soft steps down the hallway feel like a strike to my chest. Knowing this goodbye may be final, I’m nearly as gutted as I was the night I found Dad’s lifeless body.
With three hours to spare before my ride is set to arrive, I head to the gym with my packed bag and let off some steam after breaking the news to Manny. Disappointment flared in the old man’s eyes when I told him I was leaving indefinitely, but he smiled and told me he understood, then said I was welcome to come back any time. It was nearly as hard to accept his kindness as it was Sharlo’s flat goodbye kiss outside of the brownstone.
“Can you believe this fuckin’ pansy-ass?” someone yells. I’m so deep into my workout that I don’t realize the comment was directed my way until I hear, “Guess Midwestern boys don’t have the balls to fight someone with my reputation.”
Fuck. Breathing heavily, I still the bag I’m working with and turn to face Freddie, my jaw jutted out. Dressed in street clothes, he’s surrounded by two big guys and they're all smirking like fools. Knowing he’s only here to stir shit up, I begin to remove my gloves.
“Couldn’t be helped,” I say with a shrug. “Family emergency back home.”
Freddie crosses his meaty arms, chuckling to himself. “I call bullshit. I thi
nk you’re just afraid that hot-ass pussy of yours would’ve realized she’s making a mistake and should be fucking a real man like me instead.”
Roaring, I launch myself at him. He anticipates the attack and locks my head in the crook of his arm. I reach down for his knees and pull, catching him off guard and throwing him down to the floor. His buddies are cheering him on as he flips to his side and locks an arm around my neck. I roll up to sit and knock him off my back, sending him back to the ground. When I come at him with my fist cocked, he dodges the first blow but doesn't anticipate the second one I deliver to his stomach. As he’s recoiling from the strike, I throw another into his face. I’m flooded with satisfaction with the site of blood streaming from his nose and intend to hit him again until a set of arms lock around my chest and drag me away.
Eyes narrowed on Freddie as his buddies help him back to his feet, I roar, “Don’t ever talk about her like that again, motherfucker!”
“He’s not worth it, James!” the man holding me back yells. “Shake it off!”
“I’m not done with him!” I protest, struggling to break free. I wiggle away from the man enough to jab my elbow into something hard. As the arms drop from around me, I twist around to find Sharlo’s friend Nolan cradling his bearded jaw.
“Where the fuck did a boxer learn all those jiu-jitsu moves?” he asks, frowning.
“Why are you here?” I return, scowling after that coward Freddie who’s already scampering away with his hand over his bloody face.
“Shar asked me to give you a ride to the airport.” Nolan flexes his jaw and smirks. “Wasn’t expecting I’d have to defend myself.”
I wasn’t expecting him when Sharlo said she’d arrange for a car, but whatever. As long as he gets me to the airport on time, I’m not going to complain. I gesture to his jaw. “Sorry about that.”
He readjusts the rolled-up sleeves on his dress shirt. “I can take a beating.”
