by Jenn Sable
I expected her to haul off and slap me, which I would’ve deserved, but instead, I watched a delightful peachy blush crawl from her neck to her forehead.
“Look, Officer Witmer, I was trying to send those messages to someone else last night.”
I chuckled. “I figured that it had to be a mistake, and so we’re clear, I’m just Troy now that we’re through with the police business,” I said. I titled my head to the side and allowed some of the humor I’d bottled up to sparkle through my eyes. I knew I’d won when the corners of her lips quirked up and she gave me a begrudging little grin.
“Well, Just Troy, it was a mistake. A big, huge, colossal—”
“Okay, ouch, I read you loud and clear,” I said, pressing a hand to my heart in mock pain.
“ーenormous mistake,” she finished and laughed.
There was a beat of silence. She tucked a few stray dark curls behind her ears. I watched the movement and again wondered what her hair would feel if I ran it through my fingers. We stood in a silent but not unpleasant stare-down.
I’d thought a lot about El the past several months, although typically at bedtime, and those thoughts mostly focused on what she’d look like naked and arched beneath me. But when I stood in front of the real El, I was surprised that the arch of her dark brows, the graceful set of her collarbone, and the small freckle on the right side of her upper lip had my rapt attention and I wanted to press my lips against all three of them.
I'd fantasized about El’s long legs wrapped around my middle as I pushed long and hard into her during my routine, nightly jerk off. It didn’t dawn on me that I’d want to worship her little details.
“And the text this morning?” I pressed.
Her bottom lip hung heavy, and her dark amber eyes widened. “You blocked me before I had a chance to explain that it was a mistake too!”
I nodded but could feel the cocky grin on my face. “Right. That was a mistake, too,” I said, slowly repeating her words back to her and enjoyed how her peachy blush turned into a darker rose hue across her cheekbones.
The staccato of a tea kettle about to boil sounded from behind her and it quickly turned into a shrill scream from the kitchen in the back of the house. “Oh my God, yes, it was! Shoot, I forgot that I put a kettle on low earlier. Come in for a second,” she said and jogged down the main hallway toward the kitchen.
I was a little dumbfounded by how pleased and excited I was that El had invited me inside. Although I knew every inch of the first floor of the Four Sisters Inn, and had visited the place more times than I could count over the years that stretched back to even before her parents' accident, being invited inside by El felt like a new experience.
I followed behind El and loved the way her ass looked in her yoga pants as she jogged down the main hall toward the screaming kettle. In the kitchen, El plucked the kettle off its flame burner and set it aside. “I was going to make coffee this morning, want a cup? I’m usually a tea gal, obviously,” she laughed and gestured to the kitchen counter packed with containers of various teas.
“Sure. A cup of coffee sounds nice. Thanks. I won’t tell Winnie that you’re cheating on her,” I teased, and El threw me a sassy look over her shoulder as she opened a cabinet and pulled down a French press and a bag of coffee beans.
I sat my keys and hat on the kitchen table, slid my favorite chair out and turned it toward El. I’d sat around this kitchen table plenty of times and played poker with Sam, her husband, Owen Brocker, and his brothers, but I’d never sat around it alone with El.
“I don’t have a regular coffee maker, and right now, the guest coffee station is being replaced with a new commercial setup to get ready for my teahouse. So, all I have is a French press. It might take a few minutes. Is that okay?” she asked.
Oh, honeysuckle, that’s wonderful, take your time. This is one of the easiest noise complaints I ever attended, not to mention, I’m loving the view. ”No problem, things are slow this morning,” I said and watched as El stood on her tiptoes and shoved things around on the top shelf of the cupboard.
I stood and walked over to her. “Can I help you?” I asked.
El twisted toward me with one arm in the cupboard and the other braced on the counter as she dug around for whatever she was looking for. A thin band of skin around her midriff was exposed, and I had to make a concerted effort to keep from ogling it.
“I can’t find the bean grinder. I hardly ever make coffee and the twins always use the guest station . . .” Our eyes connected, and her words faltered. Her gaze dropped to my mouth, and my stomach muscles tightened.
“Troy,” she said slowly.
“Yes, Eloise,” I murmured and breathed in a citrusy scent that had mixed with something sweet and soothing. Lavender. The picture of her lavender-colored panties flashed through my mind; I forcefully pushed the image away.
“I think Ifeel it,” said El and bit her bottom lip.
“Where?” I asked. I wasn’t quite sure if I meant the question literally or figuratively, but I was interested in any answer she wanted to give me as long as she continued talking in that low, husky voice.
“Here on the top shelf.”
“Oh?”
“The bean grinder. It’s just beyond my reach. I can’t wrap my fingers around it,” said El, continuing to balance on her tiptoes.
Was it just my imagination, or did El just allow a seductive little smile to curve her lips for a split second when she said, “I can’t wrap my fingers around it”?
“Want help?” I asked.
“I think I need it,” she murmured, and I almost growled. What was this woman doing to me?
I waited for a second for her to move, but she didn’t. She just stayed on tiptoes and kept her mysterious dark eyes locked on mine and lifted a brow. I shifted to stand behind her, my body an inch away from hers. I could feel the gentle warmth emanating from her skin on the front of my chest. I easily reached the top shelf of the cupboard.
Although I spotted the grinder right away, I let El guide me to it.
“Here it is. Follow my hand. I’m pointing to it,” she said.
I brushed my fingertips over her wrist, across the back of her hand, down to her fingertips, and just beyond to grab the grinder. El inhaled sharply, and I loved the way her rib cage expanded, and she lost balance. Her backside bumped into me, and I immediately reached out to steady her by pressing a hand, fingers splayed wide, to the center of her back.
“Oh, sorry, thanks,” she hummed in the back of her throat.
Her skin felt warm through her thin T-shirt, and I felt the curves of the back of her ribcage and spine underneath my fingertips. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d made physical contact with Eloise, and it only consisted of my hand on her back, but you would’ve thought that I’d massaged her breast by the way my cock shifted in my pants at the feel of her.
My resolve to be a stoic family friend that I’d assigned to myself years before slipped away momentarily, and something else took charge. I’d placed myself firmly on the sidelines of my wants and desires, and now, the tightly controlled and regulated part of me watched helplessly as the red-blooded male surged through my veins while I stood in the quiet presence of El in her sun-filled kitchen.
I wanted her. The truth was, I’d wanted her long before she had sent me a picture of her creamy thighs and sweet little birthmark. I had the fantasy count to prove it, but those were fantasies. It was something else entirely to stand behind her, close enough to smell her hair and have my hand on her back. It felt incredible and exhilarating.
My hand was still on El’s back; I slowly turned her to face me. Her eyes held mine and then dropped to my mouth, and my cock twitched. She bit her lip and I was done for. Keeping one hand firmly in place on her spine, steadying her in the loose framework on my arms, I grazed the backs of my fingertips of my other hand up the side of her neck and threaded my fingers through her thick, dark waves.
What the hell am I doing?
&nbs
p; El’s face tilted up to mine, and I drank in her features, the curve of her cheek, the delicate arch of her expressive brows, and the swell of her bottom lip. That damn freckle on her upper lip. Her thick, long lashes rimmed gorgeous dark, honey-brown eyes, marbled with thin lines of gold and silver. Her olive skin was smooth and glowed against her thick, wavy tresses. She was so fucking beautiful that I wondered if she even knew how she could devastate a man with one glance.
Her rich spirit and her bold willingness to look life straight in the eye compounded her beauty. When she looked me straight in the eyes, it awakened the animal deep inside me, stoked the embers of desire in the pit of my stomach, and gave me the impulse to do crazy things, like pick her up over my shoulder, slap her ass, and take her straight to my bed and spend myself deep inside her. Stop thinking crazy thoughts. This is sheer madness.
El was brave yet guarded, just like me. She was enigmatic, and I wanted nothing more than a chance to learn more about the El that she kept hidden deep-down inside, and if I were honest, I wanted to share that part of myself with her.
We're not that different, El. I wish I could show you that.
I surprised both of us and pressed my forehead to hers. Her eyes fluttered shut, and I briefly wondered if she was waiting for me to kiss her. Wondered if she wanted me to kiss her. I closed my eyes and tried to think of all the reasons why that would be a very terrible idea. Instead of kissing her, I asked her once more. “El, were all of your texts to me a mistake?
She was silent for a moment, and I sensed a small war raged within her, then she answered simply and softly. “Yes.”
I pulled back far enough away to look into her eyes without letting go. I’d asked the question, and El had answered honestly. Even though the truth stung, it made me want her all the more because she was honest. I loved the feel of her in my arms, and her aura intoxicated me, I just wished that I had the same effect on her.
“Then whoever those texts were intended for is one lucky son of a bitch,” I murmured.
Something about what I said made her, burst out laughing. The sound of it was so beautiful, clear, and full that it made me smile. “I’m going to tell Sam you called her a lucky son of a bitch, and to be honest, she is lucky! She’s closing on a beach house on Ely’s Island.”
I gaped at her for a moment, brows knocked my hairline in shock. “You were trying to send that photo to your sister? I will never understand women.”
“Yes, it was supposed to go to Sammie. She was going to send it to a dermatologist friend to check the birthmark for any problem. I told you those texts were a big mistake,” said El, who reached up to grip my biceps and gave them a little shake; I struggled not to flex them to try to impress her.
“You’re concerned about the strawberry birthmark on your right thigh?” I asked and immediately regretted the way I worded the question.
Recognition that I’d studied her photo flashed across her face and her lips curved into a knowing smile. “So that’s what you would call it, huh? My strawberry?”
My eyes roamed over her face. “That’s what I do call it.”
She bit her lip, and her blush resumed its slow crawl up her neck. I wanted to follow it with my lips.
“Oh my God, Troy. My panty pic just blew open Pandora’s Box. How do you take your coffee?” she asked, abruptly changing the subject and stepping out of my arms.
I laughed and scrubbed a hand over my face. “Yeah, I’ll say. Wide-open. Who would’ve imagined one innocent little photo of panties would do such a thing?” I teased.
She leveled me with a deadpan stare. “Mistake. It was a mistake,” said El, emphatically.
I was torn, relieved, and disappointed.
Relieved that at least one of us had the clarity of mind to pump the brakes on whatever madness had just transpired. Clearly, I needed to make a trip out to Axe Hollow and get laid sooner rather than later, considering I’d almost kissed El. Eloise, Sammie’s little sister, for Christ’s sake. That would’ve been a total nightmare.
Plus, I was on duty! My dick was about to get me fired before I could even put in for a transfer to try to climb the career ladder. Just trying to make you proud, Dad. Sorry that I let your legacy down because I was busy pining after an Evans’ girl, the middle one, yes, the wild child.
However, the other part of me wanted to not give a shit about our differences and all the reasons why it would be a bad idea and pull El back into my arms, taste her mouth, and blaze a trail of sucking kisses the whole way down to that sweet little strawberry birthmark before doing wicked things with my tongue to her creamy core. My shaft started to stir, and I knew I didn’t get control of my thoughts about all the ways I wanted to pleasure El, then I’d have to add sorry about the massive erection to my list of things that I needed to apologize to El for.
“El, I’m sorry,” I said and ran a hand through my hair.
She stopped arranging the coffee items on the counter and looked over at me with a warm smile. “For what, Troy? Nothing happened. We didn’t do anything,” she said and scooped a third of a cup of coffee beans into the grinder and set the grind number to coarse. The grinder was loud, and it gave us both a minute to stop talking and collect our thoughts.
“What I meant to say was that I apologize for responding to your text last night in a less than appropriate way, and I’m also sorry that I moved over your hand with mine that way I did and how I touched you just now,” I said. There, I did it.
I apologized for just about everything that I could think of beyond apologizing for masturbating last night and then again this morning while thinking about kissing her little birthmark and tasting what was beyond those purple panties.
She nodded and then walked back over and stood in front of me, my fingertips tingled with the temptation to reach out and touch her.
“Troy, I apologize for sending you those texts. You must’ve been so shocked and confused,” she said and tucked a few stray curls behind her ear.
Shocked, confused... delighted.
“Don’t worry about it,” I murmured.
El shrugged, “Okay, good. Besides, I’m willing to bet that wasn’t the first text you received like that,” she teased.
My lips twitched. “It was the first from you.”
She laughed. “And the last! It’s a good thing that the two of us can joke about this. I guess if it was going to happen, I’m glad that it happened with you. We’re both married to our jobs and don’t have a significant other to explain this silly incident to,” said El, but I detected a hint of self-depreciation in her tone.
I wondered if she was referring to being married to her job, having no significant other, or both.
“True. I can’t remember the last time I called someone my significant other so, no harm, no foul with me. In my line of work, I can understand why when the Pennsylvania State Police formed, it initially didn’t accept married men into the academy. I guess what I’m trying to say is, I haven’t been on a formal date in a while,” I explained.
Why the hell did I say that? Am I trying to push her away or pull her to me? Of course, I'm trying to push her away. That's the right thing to do. Plus, I won't be around long enough to consider starting a relationship now.
El nodded in understanding. “Same here. Everyone’s like, El, why don’t you live a little and go on a date. But they don’t get it. Starting a business is more than a full-time job; it’s like playing a full-contact sport twenty-four, seven.”
She poured the hot water over the coffee grounds. “I’d rather just fly solo even though it gets a little lonely sometimes, but that’s the price you pay when you devote yourself to a career, to a goal.”
I bit the corner of my mouth as I watched her pull some mugs down from a cabinet. “You can call me when you get lonely,” I said.
She stilled and then looked over at me. Her lips were open slightly as if she were surprised by my statement. “Oh?”
“Yeah, I know what that’s like. To be a little lonely
sometimes,” I said and pushed my hands into my pockets. Holy shit, why are you admitting that to Eloise Evans?
El locked her eyes on mine, and I noticed that her chest started to rise and fall faster.
“Trooper 4,” my radio sounded.
We both blinked hard. The spell that cast over us dissipated and I walked toward the table to answer the radio call. “Trooper 4, yes, go ahead.”
“Are you currently able to assist Trooper 1?”
“Yes,” I radioed back and silently marveled over how disappointed El looked because of my having to depart.
“There’s a report of an intoxicated man at Probst Farm. It’s a nonviolent situation but the intoxicated man is requesting your presence.”
I sighed. There was a ninety-nine point nine percent chance that the intoxicated man was the old farmer, Everett Probst. “I’m ten minutes out, and I’m on my way.”
El leaned back against the kitchen counter and rested her palms face down on either side of her hips, fingers dangling over the edge. “I guess we’ll have to catch up over coffee next time,” she breathed.
I smiled. “Sorry about having to run out on you like this. Next time, though, definitely. That is, if you’re open to a next time,” I said, and looked at her from under my brows and carefully studied her face.
Wait. What am I doing? I’m not thinking straight. Jesus. This is Little Eloise Evans, twenty-nothing year old, and I’m flirting with her like I’m not almost a decade older than she is. Fuck.
I was supposed to come over here today and apologize to El for my inappropriate response to her mistaken text last night. That was it—resume life as normal. I was not supposed to come over here, hump her hand with mine, then thread my fingers through her hair and almost fucking kiss her.
She shrugged one shoulder. “Yeah sure, why not? It’s just coffee, right?”
Fuck.
She looked so damn adorable. I wanted her back in my arms, my fingers in her hair, her lips on mine. Instead of pulling her to me, I reached for the keys I’d put on the kitchen table and saw a cell phone lying on the other side. “El, is this your cell phone?”