Sassy Blonde: USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR

by Stacey Kennedy

  “As far as I know, yes.” Hayes laughed.

  Darryl gave a flick of his chin at the two guys with him. Cops that Hayes had never met, obviously rookies, seeing as they both looked young. Once they continued on down the hallway to the locker room, Darryl leaned against the doorjamb, arms folded. “Something bad must have happened to have you sitting behind a desk with a case in front of you. What’s going on?”

  Hayes leaned back against his chair, lacing his hands together behind his head. “Did you hear about my truck and Maisie’s trailer?”

  Darryl’s mouth twitched. “Ah, so she’s the reason you finally gave in to your father.”

  Hayes snorted and avoided that line of conversation. Instead, he said, “No one was going to work her case, but me.”

  Darryl’s head cocked at the statement Hayes made. He finally nodded his understanding and asked, “Have you told Nash?”

  “Not yet,” Hayes said, not looking forward to that particular phone call. “I’ll be reaching out soon, but I’m hoping we can work something out to keep me on when he needs me.” He enjoyed the rush and his friendships at the farm. Though, this time, the thought of getting near a dangerous horse, of hurting himself, which would in turn hurt Maisie, made him pause. Those pained eyes of hers were all he could see. “We’ll figure it out,” he finished.

  “I’m sure you will.” Darryl smiled. “Well, buddy, it’s damn good to have you here. Are you here to stay?”

  Hayes glanced down at the case on the desk. Today, when he’d worked the case, for the first time in years he’d felt…normal. Like he’d come home, and he didn’t know how to process that. “I’ve promised my father six months.”

  “Good.” Darryl smacked a hand against the door. “I’m overrun with rookies. It’ll be good to have some backup.”

  Hayes’s mouth twitched. “That sounds irritating.”

  “Worse than you can even imagine,” Darryl drawled, and moved away from the door.

  Hayes began cleaning up the papers on his desk. He’d thought Darryl left, but his warm voice jerked Hayes’s gaze back to the doorway. “It is good, you know. You being back on the force. This is where you belong.”

  Not having the words to respond, Hayes nodded.

  After Darryl left, Hayes picked up the photograph of Maisie’s burnt-out trailer. She always kept directing his life, in good ways, and by all appearances, she didn’t even try. From day one, she’d always been there, guiding his hand. First, when he began dating Laurel. Laurel always made time for Maisie, no matter what happened. Hayes had never minded. Their friendship had been a beautiful thing. And he’d overheard Maisie singing Hayes’s praises about him being a good husband. When Laurel passed away, Maisie had been there to scrape him up off the floor, regardless of that fact that she’d been hurting too. She’d pushed on, showing him the beauty in the world, when he couldn’t see it at all. She gave him reasons to smile and laugh.

  He missed her. His head told him to take a break, let this thing between them breathe a little.

  His heart… Fuck. He grabbed his phone off his desk and texted her: Busy tonight?

  Her response was immediate. Depends?

  On?

  If I’m getting busy with you.

  He chuckled, heat flooding him, just that easily. He was sure she had no idea the power she could wield over him if she wanted. Since I can’t seem to refuse you anything, that’s very likely.

  Good. Come meet me at the brewery. I’m in the barn.

  See you in 20.

  He gathered up the papers on his desk, placing them back in the file folder for tomorrow. Just as he put that away, another text came through on his phone. He stiffened…everywhere.

  The photograph Maisie sent showed her lying on her back, soft lighting all around her. Her hair blanketed the ground behind her. Her dress was pulled down, revealing her gorgeous cleavage.

  He texted back: I’ll be there in 10.

  11

  Twinkle lights were strung along the large wooden beams that ran the length of the space that was once a hayloft. It was now Maisie’s quiet place. Blankets were laid out in the corner, surrounded by too many pillows to count. As a child, she and Laurel would spend hours up here playing hide-and-seek around the hay bales. Pops hadn’t been huge on farming, like his father had, but he had kept a hobby farm for years. Horses for them to ride, goats, sheep, a cow, just furry friends to keep him company, especially after their grandmother passed away.

  The space reminded her of simpler times, when things weren’t so serious, where everything wasn’t on the line.

  A sudden creak in the wooden floorboard had her smiling. She took a quick look at her screen. “Eight minutes,” she said, looking at Hayes across from her. “Wow, my boobs must have looked great.”

  Hayes lips curved at the sides. He leaned against the thick wooden pole, arms folded, eyes burning. “Delectable.”

  “Hmm,” she purred, playfully. “I take it since you got here so fast that you’re hungry then?”

  “Famished.” His grin dripped lust.

  All day she’d been thinking of him, thinking of this. No matter how confusing life got, when they touched, everything was okay. Always. This part was easy. The emotional stuff made everything hard. And she kept thinking, as long as she reminded him how good they were together, showed him how great the future could be, everything would be okay. They would be okay, and they’d figure out the steps to take to find their happiness. A forever kind of happiness. “Oh, that’s something we must fix, then.” She sat up a little and unzipped the back of her dress, letting the fabric slide off her shoulders. She wasn’t wearing a bra. The dress had one built in.

  The low groan that spilled from Hayes’s mouth made her wet in an instant. The hunger in his wicked gaze as his eyes roamed over her bare breasts was hot. He had his T-shirt off a second later, his jeans and boxer briefs dropped next. She wiggled out of her dress and panties as he fetched a condom from his wallet and readied himself.

  Before she could make a next move, he was there, placing her down on the pillows, sliding between her legs. The scent of his woodsy cologne wrapped around her as he gathered her in his strong arms, his hard body pressing all the right places. His kiss set her on fire as his tongue sensually stroked hers. A low growl rumbled from his chest, like he could barely get enough of her. Urgency tickled in her belly as his hardened length stroked between her thighs. The need. The desire. She moaned against his mouth, rubbing herself up and down his cock while tangling her fingers into his hair.

  God, yes, she wanted this. Wanted him. Needed him. She moved faster beneath him, dragging her sex up and down over his rock-hard length. The tease was too much. He was too much. She broke the kiss to rasp, “I need you inside me.”

  He grunted against her mouth and switched their positions. Now straddling his waist, she stared down at him, feeling herself growing wetter at just the sight of him. My God, Hayes was a dream come true. Strong. Sexy. Pure seduction. She shuddered against the need pulsating through her.

  At whatever expression crossed her face, he gave a smile dripping sex, then used both hands to squeeze her bum. “You seem like you know what you’re doing. Show me what you’ve got.”

  She returned the grin and rocked her hips, sliding up the length of him. “Are you challenging me to see how good I am in bed?”

  He moaned, the soft lights showcasing the pleasure washing over his face. “I showed you what I’ve got, didn’t I? Seems only fair.”

  “Hmmm,” she purred, playfully rolling her hips. “I suppose it does.”

  Challenge accepted, she placed her hands on his chest and shifted her hips slowly until she took the tip of him inside her. Just as slowly, she brought him in deep, all the way to the hilt, letting him feel the gentle squeeze of her. She held his stare, feeling empowered by him watching her so intently. His gaze jerked to her breasts and his moan made goose bumps rise on her arms. He cupped her breasts, and he played there, massaged and squeezed her nip
ples, awakening every inch of her flesh. Breathless, stretched perfectly by him, she circled her hips, urged on by his needy moans. Beneath her, she took in hard muscles flexing with every stroke. His eyes were dark, hooded. His lips were parted, hers for the taking, and she sealed her mouth over his and began working over him, bringing them higher, slowly.

  Until she wanted more.

  She rose up and rocked her hips. Harder. Faster.

  He groaned at her bouncing breasts, his hands going there to enjoy. “Fucking love looking at you,” he growled.

  Then those intense whiskey eyes met hers. His guttural groan had her shifting her hips back and forth, the pleasure building. She wanted to get there. She wanted them both to get there. She rode him without inhibition, loud moans ringing out between them, the scent of their musk filling the air.

  And there, right when his pleasure peaked, hardening him deep inside her, pinching his expression, she lost sight of everything but her pleasure. She tipped her head back and moved faster. Harder. And when the pleasure rose, she let go, falling into this magical place between them, vaguely aware of Hayes bucking and jerking beneath her, his roar of pleasure drawing out hers.

  “You win,” he said, sometime later, with a rough laugh.

  She chuckled, finding herself tucked into his arms, breathless. Her body tingled from head to toe in pure happiness. “How about we both win? Because we have amazing fucking sex.”

  He chuckled. “I’m okay with that.”

  Many, many minutes had passed while they caught their breath and the sweat dried, and they finally recovered from the blissful haze of pleasure, when Hayes said, “I’ve got some news for you.”

  “Oh?” she mumbled.

  “I went to work for my dad today.”

  She shot up. His words having the effect of a bucket of ice-cold water being dumped on her. “What?”

  His attention fell to her bare breasts before his brow arched. “We should probably get dressed if we’re going to have to this conversation.”

  Her stare fell to his ripped, glistening body, his muscles flexing, and a deep shudder ran through her. “I see your point.” She grabbed her panties and dress and slid back into them, while Hayes threw on his jeans and T-shirt. Once she took a seat beside him, the twinkling, lights casting him in a warm glow, she said, “Okay, tell me everything.”

  “Someone stole your trailer,” he said, then gave a small shrug. “I wanted to work the case.”

  Time slowed around her as she stared into the warm swirls of his eyes. “You went back for…me?”

  Something sweet and soft crossed his expression before he pulled her closer, until he lay back on the pillows, tucking her into his side. She stared up at the twinkling lights above them as he ran his fingers through her hair. She swore she could still smell the timothy hay up here, even though it’d been years since they’d had any.

  “It’s in my nature to fix problems,” he explained a moment later. “Sitting on the sidelines wouldn’t have worked for me. Last night, I went and saw my father. To work the case, I had to promise six months of my service.”

  She wasn’t even sure what to make of that. He’d just said the other day that going back to the force wasn’t on the table. She leaned up enough to get a read on his expression. “Are you sure this is what you want to do?”

  Of course, he was locked up tight, his face revealing nothing. “Yes,” he said firmly.

  Aghast, she blinked at him.

  He chuckled softly, tucking her hair behind her ear. “I’ve surprised you.”

  “Dumbfounded me is more like it,” she muttered. “Just the other day you said being a cop was part of your old life.”

  “It was, until someone hurt you.”

  She reeled at that statement. At the meaning in that statement. She slowly shook her head, the ground dropping out from under her. “You’re telling me that because someone hurt me, you’re now breaking all of your rules and going back to your job on the force?”

  He inclined his head. “It’s really that simple.”

  She stared at him as he slid his fingers through her hair, lost in those strong eyes of his. This was anything but simple. Her head spun as she lay back in the crook of his shoulder while his fingers continued to slide over her hair again. “Have you told Nash?”

  “I called him on the drive over and explained the situation.”

  “Is he upset?”

  “Of course not. He’s got access to a few good guys that can fill my place easily enough.” His voice softened. “But I enjoy working for him, so on my days off, I’ll put in a few hours at the farm.”

  “It won’t be too much for you?”

  “Nah. It’s either spend that time at the farm or the gym.”

  “True.”

  “Besides, it’s not like once my six months of service are up, I can’t go back to the farm full-time.”

  She knew the answer to her next question but wondered if Hayes did. She sank into the heat of his hold, and asked, “Why do you think your dad asked for six months of your service?”

  “He thinks I’ll remember how much I love being a cop and decide to stay.”

  She blew out a quick breath, relieved he knew it too. His father’s insistence to get Hayes back on the force didn’t surprise her. Everyone knew that’s where Hayes belonged, but what confused Maisie was why, if he’d been so adamant to stay away from the force, he’d gone back. For her. “Today you worked my case, then?”

  His deep voice filled the empty space. “Unofficially at the moment, until all the documents go through. The perks of working in a small town, where the chief of police is your father.”

  She lifted her head again, gazed into the softness of his eyes. “It’s incredibly sweet that you’re doing this for me. I’m not sure what to say.”

  He brushed his knuckles against her cheek and smiled tenderly. “You’ve been there for me in times when anyone else would have turned away. You don’t need to say a damn thing.”

  She leaned into his touch, aware of a truth she never really saw until he’d rejoined the force. Probably also because of her conversation with Luna this morning about Hayes keeping a secret. Before now, Maisie never questioned his motives, thinking it all had to do with Laurel. She thought he couldn’t be a cop anymore because he’d lost his wife in a violent crime. That he couldn’t care deeply again, because his wife had died. That no one else mattered beyond his own pain. But his actions blew those theories apart.

  Her world spun away from her. “Are you keeping something from me?”

  He went still. “Like what?”

  She sat up again to watch his expression. “I went to see Luna Whittle this morning—”

  His brows shot up. “The psychic in town?”

  “Yup, her.” Maisie hesitated then forced the words from her dry throat. “She told me that you’re keeping a secret from me.”

  His expression did the cop thing. It went blank, hard. “You’re actually listening to a psychic?”

  She nodded without shame. “I’m getting all the help I can right now. And don’t dodge the question. Are you?”

  He watched her for a long moment. His lips parted like he was about to admit a truth that, by tightness of his jaw, was difficult. But then he shook his head, tucking her hair behind her ear. “Your psychic is wrong. I’m not hiding anything.”

  Maisie’s internal alarms sounded. She wasn’t sure if she should be thrilled to know that Luna was correct, or annoyed that Hayes was keeping something from her. “Really? Nothing to tell me?”

  His gaze averted to the twinkling lights above them. “No, nothing.”

  In that hollow tone of his voice, clarity hit Maisie. That nothing, whatever it may be, was the very thing keeping them from having everything.

  12

  The next morning, Maisie sat on her narrow bed, the same bed she’d had for more years than she dared count. Her bedroom consisted of a desk, a chest of drawers, a mirror, a chair, and a nightstand. She’d matche
d it with soft lilac bedsheets and a white duvet. Her room caught the morning sun, and she looked over at her dresser, finding her tote bag. Her heart reached for her paintbrushes and canvas, but the splint on her finger remained, even if the pain had diminished, and drawing anything polished was definitely not in the plans. It felt like forever since she’d created anything. She hopped out of bed to grab her sketch book, which was about the only thing she could do with a broken finger, when her grandfather’s letter fell out onto the floor. She froze midstep and then laughed softly at herself. Luna had her thinking Pops was following her all over the place. She grabbed the letter from the floor and then returned to her bed.

  Beams of sunlight shone on her duvet as she took out her sketch pad and pencil. She opened the letter and read the quote again: The greatest danger for most of us is not that our aim is too high and we miss it, but that it is too low and we reach it.

  She never really understood that quote before, but for some reason it resonated now. Maybe because of what Clara said the other night about the broken mug. “He told you no one was like you. That most people would have thrown it out. But you looked at something broken and made it beautiful. That was your gift to the world.”

  Every day since the brewery opened, Maisie had been trying to fit into Clara’s box and do things her sister’s way. She’d failed miserably. Over and over again. With Luna’s advice humming in her ear, Maisie wondered what would happen if she did something her way, in her style. And that, instead of setting her aim so low that her only wish was to survive the festivals and fulfill Pops’s final wish, maybe she needed to set the bar higher. To do things in a way that was true to herself. To figure out what the brewery needed from her. And a little bit of beauty never hurt anyone.

  An idea suddenly came to her, as if Pops were whispering the words into her ear. She grabbed her cell and texted her sisters and Penelope: Family meeting in 20. The dings of her phone indicated they’d responded. Maisie didn’t let the notifications distract her, she began awkwardly sketching with the splint in the way, her hand flowing fast over the page, her imagination coming to life before her eyes.