all roads lead to you

by Probst, Jennifer

  “Was she as passionate about animal rescue as you are?”

  He figured it was an easy answer for her, but when she hesitated, he studied her face. A flicker of pain glinted hard and deep in those sea-green eyes. She dropped her head and focused on her plate, as if afraid to show him too much. “Yes. I never knew why, though. Maybe it’s just a calling to certain people. I believe God bestows certain gifts. Ophelia has her singing. Ethan has his bravery. And I’m able to connect with animals.”

  Something was missing in her answer. She was a puzzle, and this piece was critical in peeling back those layers she kept tight around her. He made his voice sound casual in order not to spook her. “Did this gift start at a young age?”

  Her fingers jerked. The fork dropped. He waited, silent, sensing an anguish swirling around her figure. She picked up her beer, but he noticed the slight tremble in her body.

  Demons. They all had them. Some were forgotten with enough time. Some came at night. Some stayed buried.

  Some lay in wait with a haunting presence, planning the perfect time to spring.

  “Let’s just say animals saved my life.” She looked up, her face rearranged into a well-guarded expression, and the moment slipped by.

  Aidan hoped he’d get another shot at the truth, because he sensed it made up the essence of who she truly was. For now, he decided to lighten the mood. “I really enjoyed this apology. But it feels a bit short. Maybe some dessert would allow me to completely forgive you.”

  She laughed and he drank in the way her face lit up and her lips softened and her eyes glowed like the Caribbean Sea. “I figured you’d insist on the full-course apology. I got bourbon pecan pie.”

  “You are officially forgiven.”

  “With vanilla bean ice cream.”

  “And you get a marker against any future insult,” he added.

  They laughed together, and he helped clear the dishes while he snuck more scraps to the dogs. She put on a pot of Rwanda Blue Bourbon coffee—one of his favorites now if he didn’t choose tea—and they talked business while they feasted on pie.

  Night crept in. The plates were scraped clean. The coffee grew cold. Aidan tapped an index finger against the rim of his cup. “Ophelia said I can move back to the inn for the next ten days,” he said casually.

  The energy shifted, expanded, heated. The dogs trotted away, as if sensing the growing tension, and flopped down near the door.

  “Oh.” She paused, lifting her gaze. “Do you want to go back to the inn?”

  He considered his answer and chose the safe route. “Do you want me to?”

  He caught the tightening of her muscles, the uneasy shift of her weight. She popped out of the chair, grabbed the rest of the dishes, and turned away. “Up to you.”

  “Actually, it’s not,” he said. His tone was mild, but this had to be her call. Sure, it was convenient to stay here, but for him, it was much more. He craved her presence: the sight of her face, the scent of her hair, the sound of her laugh. He’d miss her. Seeing her at the farm was different from sharing time with her at home. Eating dinner, watching television, shoulders pressed together on the couch while the animals encircled them—it had all become a routine he’d begun to savor. Every moment he seemed to discover another part of her that both fascinated and attracted him. And yeah, that was all sorts of fucked up, since they’d only been together a short time and decided not to cross over the blurred line between personal and business, but he didn’t care anymore. “You offered out of sympathy and convenience. Now I’m able to leave, and I want to know how you feel about it.”

  She blew out an annoyed snort and whirled back around. A frown creased her brow. “It’s no big deal for you to stay here,” she tossed out. “Your choice.”

  He tried to back down, but frustration and want twisted inside and made him a bit ugly. Made him want to push. “I’ll go. Unless you tell me you’d like me to stay.”

  Her mouth fell open. “What is it with you and my verbal assurances? You don’t need anything from me to make your own decision.”

  A grim smile played on his lips. “Oh, but I do.” Slowly, he unfolded himself from the chair and stood in the tiny kitchen, facing her. “I’m getting tired of ignoring what’s going on with us. Pretending we don’t want to forget about what’s right and what’s wrong and rip each other’s clothes off. So I’m going to ask again. Do you want me to stay or go?”

  Shock filled her eyes, but it was the quick flare of lust he was more interested in.

  Aidan cocked his hip, rested his hand on the top of the chair, and waited.

  Feet rooted to the ground, Harper stared at the man a short distance away and battled back the urge to close the distance, yank his head down, and sink herself into the glory of his kiss.

  Vision blurred, she watched him, waiting for him to move. Of course, he didn’t. The man made sure every step he made was agreed to. Hell, she’d probably need to sign a contract to get him to take her to bed. So why was it so sexy? Why did his rigid control and refusal to push her on his terms make her knees wobbly and her pussy throb with seeping heat?

  She’d always hated men who liked to steamroll a woman just because he judged himself bigger, alpha, or more important. Give her the ones who watched with a careful, heated eye to see what she liked or didn’t, the men who actually respected a woman’s strength of mind to make her own damn decisions.

  Yeah, Aidan O’Connor got her. His ruthless honesty challenged her in a way no man had ever done before. Even now, he’d pack up his bag and go back to Ophelia’s without a protest unless she asked. Even after stating he’d be happier to stay and rip off her clothes.

  Oh God. What was she going to do?

  Ignoring her tingling nipples and flip-flopping belly, she threw back her shoulders and rose to full height. “I clearly remember having this same conversation a few weeks ago,” she said, trying not to let her voice wobble. “We agreed to keep it strictly business.”

  “We did. But it’s getting harder for me not to touch you.”

  Her heart galloped in her chest. Sweat pricked her skin. She remained silent, tangled between her head and her heart.

  A rough laugh escaped his lips. “This would be easier on my ego if you’d admit you’re having the same problem.”

  She shook her head and pressed her fisted hands against her eyes. “You sure don’t know the art of subtlety, do you?”

  He shrugged. “No time for that shit. Well?”

  She let out a half laugh, half groan. “I think this is the strangest conversation I’ve had with a man.”

  “Are you hot for me, Harper?” His voice was all grit and gravel and sexy as hell.

  Lust speared through her, raw and hungry and demanding. “Yeah.”

  “Good. I’m obsessed with kissing you. So I have a proposal.”

  “Of course you do.”

  “One kiss. Let’s try it out. Maybe it’ll bomb once we give ourselves permission,” he said.

  “I’m swooning from your romantic intentions.”

  His lips kicked up in a grin. She wanted to trace her finger over his mouth to see if it was as soft as it looked. “Sorry. What do you think?”

  “I think I’ve stepped into a new dimension. Tell me this, Irish. Do we want the kiss to bomb?”

  He nodded. Eased closer. “I think it would be for the best. Neither of us wants a complication in our solid business partnership. We have a long road ahead of us. Sex makes things messy.”

  Her brow shot up. Oh, he was good. Pretending to be all rational and cool while he stalked her like a graceful panther. Her blood grew thick and heavy, and the throbbing between her thighs raged. The real problem revolved around one simple, plain fact.

  She was dying to kiss Aidan O’Connor.

  Just once.

  The tiny voice inside her flared to life and whispered a warning: One kiss will never be enough. Not from this man. Not with the way you already feel about him.

  God, she didn’t want to li
sten to reason right now.

  Harper tilted her head. “True. If the kiss fails, we can get back to work without all this bullshit. Move on and focus on the real relationship here.”

  “Phoenix,” he said.

  “Exactly. Can you promise one thing?”

  He took a few more steps. His scent wrapped around her like a silken cloud, spicy and clean and addicting. The leashed heat from his body practically ripped a purr from her throat. She curled her fingers, digging her nails into her palms to try and hold back from jumping into his arms.

  “What do you need me to promise, love?”

  A shiver worked down her spine. She imagined that lilting brogue whispering dirty commands in her ear while he thrust deep inside her. “If the kiss sucks, no hurt feelings. We move on and don’t talk about it. I can’t take any weirdness between us.”

  “Agreed. I hate weird.”

  He was right there, face close, inches from her body. The last time he was this close, he was angry. This time, his eyes crackled with hunger. His powerful thighs braced hers, and when he leaned in, his hard erection pressed against the seam of his jeans so she felt every glorious inch of promise. She licked her lips in anticipation, and slowly raised her arms to hook around his shoulders.

  “Just once,” she whispered in warning.

  He cupped her cheeks with rough, calloused palms. His amber gaze locked on hers. “Yes.”

  “We’ll get it out of our system and move on.”

  “Harper?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Shush.”

  His mouth closed over hers.

  Once, Harper had gone sleigh riding down the back hill of the farm. She remembered every moment of the thrilling trip, from the first slow slide of the rudders over slick snow to the steady acceleration growing faster and faster until the icy wind whipped her cheeks and stole her breath, and her body flushed with the high of adrenaline, power, and the tiniest spark of fear. Fear she’d go flying and hit a tree. The ride was short, fast, and hard. Afterward, she realized she was addicted to those moments of total freedom. The risk was worth the reward.

  Just like Aidan’s kiss.

  Soft, firm lips molded to hers, applying the most perfect pressure, the shocking heat of his tongue thrusting in male demand, urging her to open wider to let him completely in.

  She did.

  Her fingers dug into hard muscle as her knees weakened. He pressed her against the wall for leverage and took the kiss deeper, exploring every slick crevice of her mouth, nipping at her bottom lip, soothing with his tongue. Those thumbs stroked her cheeks, then moved up to bury in her hair and clasp her head, holding her still.

  She drowned in the primitive, masculine need he unleashed on her mouth, her skin, caught up in a firestorm shattering through all the resistance she’d carefully built over the years to keep the unknown out. And now she knew why she’d been so afraid. Why she’d avoided any type of overwhelming demand to give over her body completely.

  Because now she knew what had been missing.

  Now she’d be unable to settle for less. Not after kissing him.

  A whimper caught in her throat, and he stroked and soothed, whispering her name over and over like a beautiful mantra as he kept kissing her, that glorious, tempting mouth taking tiny bites and licks and thrusting deep until she twisted and reached for more, her body practically weeping. Arching her hips, she hooked one leg around his hips and tilted her head back.

  He cursed, his tongue tangling with hers in a passionate game, and his hands finally moved up under her shirt to stroke her back, coasting around to cup her small breasts, his thumbs dragging over her tight nipples. She cried out and nipped at his rough jaw, sucked on his bottom lip, and then his mouth was back on hers and she sagged helplessly against him under the devastating intensity of the savage, needy kiss.

  The barking rose to her ears in a sluggish crescendo, cutting through the fuzziness of her head. Suddenly, he stepped back, breaking the contact, and the surge of loss took her by surprise. As if her body recognized its other half and now refused to live without it. Eyes wide, lips swollen, she stared at him with rising horror, recognizing what they’d just done.

  They’d ruined everything.

  She’d be haunted by that kiss for the rest of her days and, God help her, all the nights. Barely able to swallow, she ripped her gaze from his face and focused on why the dogs were barking.

  Captain Hoof was in the doorway.

  Swaying a bit on his feet, he swiveled his head back and forth, as if trying to focus and register the barking. Bagheera and Baloo seemed to sense the goat’s tentativeness, and they transitioned to happy whimpers of greeting, sniffing noses, and even a gentle lick on the goat’s cheek.

  She reached deep and rallied her strength. “Look who’s up,” she said, her voice a tad unsteady. Determined to break the shattering tension, she walked slowly over and sat on the floor in front of the goat. “You feeling a bit better?” she crooned, petting him and the dogs. “Don’t be afraid of these guys, they’re very sweet and protective. And I think you need some of that, right?”

  Captain Hoof focused on her, that long, narrow pupil opening only in the right eye, his body beginning to stop shaking under the warmth of the dogs and her affections. She heard Aidan’s footsteps disappear, and then he was sitting on the floor next to her, until the goat was surrounded by a tight circle of affection.

  “Let’s get you some water, buddy,” he said, holding the dropper to the animal’s lips. The goat drank, his tongue lapping slowly, then more urgently. “Better. Maybe we’ll try a little more food. Get you a bit stronger.”

  The goat stared back at his audience and remained silent.

  “At least he’s not afraid of dogs,” she said, stroking him. “He seems to like affection.”

  “Definitely a plus.”

  They fell quiet. Spent the next few moments comforting Captain Hoof. Tried thinking about anything other than that kiss that had blown away the last of their resolutions and illusions. Tension grew. Her breath got stuck in her lungs. Desperate for some space, she began to rise. “I’ll get some food and take him out for a bit. Just in case he needs to go.”

  “I’ll take him.”

  She shook her head. “You don’t have to. I know you had a long day, so—”

  “I want to stay.”

  The words pinged through the room like a gunshot. Her body sagged with relief. The idea of him leaving hurt her too much. She didn’t know what would happen, or if they’d both decide to take a risk together. But God, she wanted him close.

  “I want you to stay,” she said softly.

  His gaze searched her face. “It didn’t suck.”

  She laughed and tried to ignore the joy squeezing her silly, traitorous heart. “No. It didn’t suck at all. But I’m not ready to decide about . . . us. Not yet.” She pulled in a breath. “I’m scared. And you made me feel more than I was ready for.”

  Vulnerable, halfway terrified, she waited for his response.

  Slowly, he reached out his hand. She took it. He entwined her fingers with his, each deliberate motion as if he were tying her to him. “Me, too. We’ll let it settle. For now, we move forward with Phoenix. No weirdness.”

  Her smile felt lit from within. “Deal.”

  When their hands dropped, separated, she felt the strength of his fingers in hers for hours afterward like an imprint.

  Just like the one on her heart.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Aidan stared down at Harper and said the only thought currently jumping in his head. “You’re fucking with me, right?”

  Harper shook out a furry chicken costume from its packaging. It was egg-yolk yellow, with a bright-red hood that mimicked head feathers. He stared in astonishment at the ridiculous getup and wondered if it was a joke. The animals gathered around her as if this were a viewing party, including Figaro, who sniffed curiously at the outfit.

  “I know you’re freaking out, but I just want to t
ry it.”

  “Try what? Getting him to think he’s not a goat?”

  They’d spent the last week caring for Captain Hoof and switching up responsibilities at work. Harper insisted on taking on the bulk of care, preferring Aidan and Elmo work with Phoenix while she stayed home. The goat had gotten stronger, now able to eat and drink on his own, and was comfortable around his animal crew. They’d both agreed it was time to take him to the farm to reintroduce him to his roots. Unfortunately, when neither of them was in sight, the poor thing went into an anxiety attack. He’d also taken up a habit of becoming dependent on the beat-up red-plaid blanket Harper had placed in his bed. He consistently tried to wrap it around him or drag it around wherever he went. Right now, it trailed behind Captain Hoof in tattered glory as he lined up with the dogs to see what Harper had unwrapped.

  Harper kept talking while she smoothed out the costume. “I read on this Instagram account that goats with anxiety issues like to be wrapped in something protective. This woman at Goats of Anarchy put a costume on her baby goat, and immediately the goat calmed down and was able to allow her to leave the room.”

  “Are you sure she’s not just doing that for more followers?”

  “No, her nonprofit is incredible. She takes care of abused animals and has a ton of goats. I’m surprised I didn’t know about her organization sooner, but she popped up when I was researching goats with anxiety. I know it seems silly, but we need to try.”

  Aidan rubbed his scalp. He’d seen some weird shit when it came to caring for animals, but this might win the prize. Of course, it wouldn’t work, but he’d just let her see for herself so they could move on to another tactic. “Fine. Go ahead. Put him in a chicken costume. Hei Hei will attack him, Captain Hoof will have a nervous breakdown, and we’ll all be one happy, dysfunctional family.”

  She ignored him and pulled the costume over the goat’s head. The Captain allowed her to tug it over his body and through his legs without struggling. She slipped up the hood to cover his tiny horns, then sat back on her heels and examined the goat.