by Tessa Layne
“What he said,” chimed in Axel.
Lexi had heard about the ‘paintball’ course. In a joint venture with the Sinclaires, they’d decided to use super-soakers instead of actual paintballs to make the course more family friendly. And to be honest, at this moment, she’d love nothing more than to ambush Jarrod and cover his arrogant, cocky ass with paint. Although, with her luck lately, he’d find a way to best her at that, too.
Axel and Gunnar marched them to an enormous truck with a four-person cab. “In you kids go,” Axel said.
“After you,” Jarrod said, casting Lexi a sideways glance.
Lexi clambered in the back, and Jarrod settled himself in beside her. The ten-minute ride was awkwardly silent. When they pulled up to the course, Axel turned around. “Lexi, you’ll come with me. Pretty boy, here, can go with Gunn.”
“Hey—” Jarrod started to object, but Lexi elbowed him in the ribs and then motioned for him to exit the truck.
In the middle of a large open area were two tricked out super-soakers. “Lexi, you take the pink one,” Axel said, grabbing a bunch of squishy things that looked like water balloons and stuffing them into a pouch.
Lexi grabbed the weapon and followed Axel about a hundred yards into the woods. He crouched down by a fallen tree branch, and motioned for her to do the same. “This is going to be a little different, since you’re not playing with a team. Gunn’s taking Jarrod to the far side of the open area and telling him to circle down by the river. You’re going to approach from the opposite direction. I assume you’ve actually fired a gun?”
She nodded. Her dad had taught all of them how to use a shotgun when they’d been about twelve. He’d said it was for coyotes and snakes, but Lexi refused to kill anything. However, they’d discovered that between her sisters and dad, she’d been the best shot.
“Well, these are easier to use than a real weapon. Just fire away as soon as you spot him. They’ll shoot fifteen feet, max, so you’ll have to get close to hit him.” Axel patted the pouch. “And you’ve got these when you use up the paint.”
“Water balloons?”
Axel grinned. “Water grenades.” Then he sobered. “Your other task, which you damn well better accept, is to work out whatever shit is going on between you and Pretty Boy. This is a mayor’s race in a small town, not D.C.”
“Don’t call him Pretty Boy,” Lexi objected.
“So now you’re defending him?” Axel teased with a twinkle in his eye. “What is this? Some kind of weird love-hate thing going on with you two? Maybe you need a roll in the hay more than you need a paint fight,” he joked.
“I’m glad to see your sense of humor hasn’t changed,” she said with a roll of her eyes.
“Any questions?” Axel asked.
She shook her head. All she wanted right now, was to soak Jarrod in pink paint. That would go a long way to make her feel better about his scathing op-ed.
“Okay, so shut your eyes. I’m going to turn you around three times, and then I need you to slow-count to thirty. Then it’s game on.”
“Got it.” Axel spun her around.
“One more thing,” Axel added before slipping away. “Watch out for poison ivy.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Great. Just what she needed a week before the election, a bad case of poison ivy. Just for that, and to spite no one in particular, she opened her eyes at nineteen. Slowly turning, she tried to orient herself. She recalled her sisters mentioning the paint course was about five acres on either side of the river. They’d come in through the Sinclaires’ side, so if she could hear the river, she’d have a better idea of where she was. She stood still and shut her eyes, listening. Birds chattered through the trees. If she strained, she thought she could hear the river off to her left. She started that way, just to make sure, knowing if she got lost, she could always follow the river out to the road.
Ten yards into the brush, she was completely disoriented, but she could hear the river. She veered to the right, debating whether or not to walk away from the river and leave the trees entirely. At this point, she might as well keep going. Who even knew where Jarrod was? They could be out here for hours, circling each other. Twenty minutes later, she was no closer to finding Jarrod. Maybe she should find a shallow place to cross the river. If Gunnar had taken him to the other side, they’d never find each other. The question was, did she really want to find him? Unequivocally, yes. The lure of seeing him covered in paint, by her hand, was too great.
Then she heard it — a twig snap. She spun and dropped low behind a scrub cedar. Maybe fifteen yards in front of her, Jarrod stood… looking at his cell phone? Was he geolocating? “Cheater,” she whispered, indignation boiling her blood. Ooh she was going to teach him a lesson. As soon as his back was turned she darted to another bush, staying low and making sure to avoid sticks. He was walking away from her — even better. She could ambush him at her leisure. Keeping her finger on the paint trigger she snuck up as close as she dared, then stood up. “Drop your weapon, cheater.”
Jarrod spun and aimed, but he was too late, she let go with a cackle and unloaded pink paint. “Gotcha, you underhanded cheater.”
Jarrod grunted and shot back, but Lexi ducked sideways and flattened herself behind a tree. “There was nothing in the rules saying I couldn’t use GPS.”
“It’s cheating.”
“Not,” he said, circling to try and get a better shot.
She squirted him for the heck of it. “It’s unfair.”
“Everything’s fair in love and war, sweetheart.”
“Is that so?” She unloaded the last of her paint, thoroughly enjoying seeing him soaked. “Is it fair to make sweet love to me all night long, knowing you’re going to stab me in the back the next morning?”
Jarrod let out an exasperated sigh. “It wasn’t stabbing you in the back, and you know it.”
“Well it felt like it.” The thought still stung.
“Well, I’m sorry that’s how you felt.” He wiped a drop of paint out of his eyes. “Look, sweetheart, you know I’m crazy about you, you know how I feel about you. I don’t want to hurt your feelings. But I do want to win, and I do think your plan has flaws.”
“You were condescending.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Arrogant.”
“Sorry again.”
“Mean-spirited.”
Jarrod glared. “I draw the line there. You’re entitled to your anger, and if you want to, rebut. But this is politics sweetheart, and it’s time to put on your big-girl panties if you’re going to stay in the game.”
“Big-girl panties?” she screeched. “I’ll show you big-girl panties.”
“I’d love to see them,” he shot back just as she leaped out from behind the tree.
She didn’t care that Jarrod would soak her, or that he’d figure out she was out of paint, she took aim and threw a balloon at his head as hard as she could. It splatted and broke on the side of his head. With a grunt, he dropped to his knees. “Jarrod?” her chest clutched. The balloons weren’t that hard, were they? “Are you okay?” she called, panic rising as she ran to him. What if she’d given him a concussion? She fell to her knees. “Jarrod.”
He raised his head with a laugh. “Gotcha,” he said as he broke a water balloon over her head. It snapped and cool liquid washed down her.
“Oooh, I’m going to get you for that,” she said as she reached for another balloon and smashed it on his chest, covering her hand in the process.
“I don’t think so,” he said, tackling her and breaking another balloon on her head.”
They rolled around, squashing the last of their balloons, laughing and cursing until they were soaked, and Jarrod had her pinned to the ground, one final balloon poised above her. “Say uncle,” he demanded with a laugh.
“Never.”
“Say it.”
“Death first,” she cried, quoting The Princess Bride. Their eyes locked and electricity arced between them. She shuddere
d as a shot of lust ripped through her.
“How about a kiss instead?” he said dropping the balloon and crushing his mouth to hers. His mouth was harsh, his tongue demanding. Claiming. It stoked the fire inside her to a roaring inferno. She brought her hands to his shirt and yanked, popping a few buttons, but ask her if she cared? Their clothes were ruined anyway.
Hands fumbled at buckles and buttons, shifting and shimmying until the blunt edge of Jarrod’s finger was at her hot, slick sex. She groaned into his mouth, body trembling as he strummed her clit. She was so close, so aroused from adrenaline and anger, she was ready to let loose.
“You’re so hot,” he muttered, biting her collarbone. “Always ready for me.”
“Yes. Always,” she said on a sigh as he slipped a finger inside her, stroking her to higher and higher heights. “Kiss me,” she begged, wanting desperately to lose herself in his touch and fly over the edge. But he withdrew his hand.
“No,” she cried out.
“You’re coming on my cock this time,” he growled, pulling a condom from his pants and quickly sheathing himself, and pressing against her entrance. “Ask nicely, and I’ll give you everything you want.”
She groaned, shaking her head, lifting her hips.
“Ask, Lexi,” he said, tugging on her hair and exposing her neck to him. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the base of her throat, licking a hot trail to her jaw. “You want it don’t you? My cock filling you up?”
“Yess,” she hissed out, refusing to give in.
His voice turned silky and dark, as he nipped her earlobe, then kissed along her jaw. “Then say it. Let me hear you ask.” He slid his cock through her folds, circling her clit, teasing her to the point of breaking. “Say it, Lexi. Ask me for what you want.”
God, she could come on his voice alone, the way it sent ripples of pleasure through her. Her body quivered with need, her clit throbbed with each tease of his cock. She couldn’t hold out any longer, she needed this release like she needed to breathe. “Yes,” she whimpered. “Yes, I want you inside me, Jarrod. Please.”
“Good girl,” he said in the deep gravelly tone she loved so much, as he drove into her, filling her completely.
She met him fully, rocking and bucking as he stroked long and slow, and hard. Each one bringing her closer and closer to relief. She wanted to let go, let go of the hurt, the anxiety, the stress. She wanted to float on a cloud of ecstasy, free from worry, free from everything except the explosive connection the two of them shared.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down into a violent kiss, sucking on his tongue, stroking against it with the same intensity as they fucked. Without mercy, without quarter, only racing toward the cliff that would free them both. She could feel it building, the forceful coiling and winding, tighter and tighter until it wrapped in on itself and exploded out of her, consuming them both. She let go with a yell as her body seized around his cock, bearing down as he buried himself again and again, and his shouts joined hers, silencing the birds and echoing off the trees.
She welcomed Jarrod’s weight as their breathing slowly returned to normal. In spite of the sweet release, her emotions were still tumbling like river rocks. But not because she was angry, or upset. Her chest squeezed with the bigness of the emotion their coupling had released.
Jarrod must have felt it too, because he drew his knuckles back and forth from her cheek to her jaw, eyes soft. “We might play rough, but I will never do anything to intentionally hurt you,” he murmured quietly. “Ever,” he declared with such an intense look in his eyes, that her insides turned to jelly.
“I…” love you. Her stomach flip-flopped at the realization. Of course she loved him. But admitting it would just add another layer of complication onto their already crazy relationship. She cupped his cheek, forcing the words back, even as they pressed forward, begging to be let out. “I know,” she whispered, chest squeezing from the withheld truth.
Maybe when the election was said and done they could go away for a weekend, and she could tell him then. But in the meantime, she’d hold this secret close to her heart.
Chapter Twenty-Four
The intensity of their union rattled Jarrod. Even now, as they lay recovering, his emotions were topsy-turvy. He’d nearly blurted out that he loved her as the most intense orgasm he’d ever experienced ripped through him. He’d literally seen stars. And the way she’d looked at him when he’d promised to never intentionally hurt her, rocked him to his core. She might not have said it, but he knew she understood that what was growing between them was bigger than they’d realized.
It ate at him that his op-ed had upset her so much. He wanted to go back and read it. Had he come across as an asshole? He hadn’t meant to. He’d just poked holes in her argument the way he would have done in moot court.
He dropped his head, brushing his mouth against her kiss-bruised lips. He’d never get enough of her softness. He could kiss her every day for the rest of his life and it still wouldn’t be enough. He swallowed back the lump in his throat. “We should get going,” he said, voice rough with emotion. He scraped a shallow hole in the ground with the butt of the super-soaker and buried the condom. It would probably be discovered sooner or later, but he comforted himself that it was certainly not the only condom buried in these woods. He was sure of that. He helped Lexi to her feet and cupped her face. “I’m going to re-read the article. If you’re right, and I came across as an asshole, I’ll issue a public apology. I’m sorry I hurt your feelings.”
Her eyes were soft and luminous. “I’m sorry, too. I have a hair trigger these days, and I was probably overreacting.”
His chest ached with an emotion he was afraid to name. He knew how much it cost her to admit that. He kissed her again. “We look a sight.”
She let out a husky laugh. “We should take a selfie.”
“Why? So we can see how awful we look? I have a better idea. We’re not too far from the hunting lodge. We could hike over and clean up. I’m sure Jamey would let you borrow some clothes.”
“Do you realize how many questions we’d have to answer if we did that?”
“I’m sure my sister already suspects something. She’s just waiting for me to tell her.”
“It would look doubly weird if we were seen coming back into town together,” she pointed out. He didn’t like it, but she was right.
“I don’t like this sneaking around.”
“I guess you should have thought about that before you ran for mayor,” she said with an I told you so kind of inflection.
He snorted. “Suit yourself. I’m not letting anyone in town see me like this.”
“Oh, I’ll suit myself, alright. Cassie’s married to a Hansen. Axel and Gunnar are obligated by family ties to run me home.”
Axel and Gunnar were waiting for them back in the arena, cell phones out. “Say cheese you kids,” Axel hollered, snapping a few photos before pocketing the phone. “We’ll just call that a little insurance.”
“That better not show up anywhere on the internet, Axe. Don’t forget, I know where you live,” Lexi threatened.
Gunnar eyed them critically. “You two look like you just survived the Hunger Games. Everybody okay?”
“Never better,” answered Jarrod evenly.
“Thanks for this,” Lexi chimed in. “It did help us blow off some steam.” She slid a sideways glance his direction. “And come to some agreements.”
“Glad to hear it. Think you guys can manage a truce until after the election?” Gunnar asked, deadly serious.
They both nodded.
“Then we’re glad we could help,” he said. “Now, who needs a ride back to town?” Gunnar asked.
“I’m going to hike over to the hunting lodge to change. I can get a ride back in later with Brodie or my sister.”
“What about you, Lex?” Axel asked.
“Can you take me back to Falcon Ridge? I want to clean up before I fetch my truck. I don’t need people seeing me lo
oking like roadkill.”
“I’ll see you back on the streets,” Jarrod said, raising an arm as Lexi, Gunnar, and Axel turned toward the truck. It didn’t sit well with him, parting this way. He wanted to kiss her, feel her arms around him one last time. Once they’d pulled away, he started the long hike over to the hunting lodge, mulling over every detail that had brought him to this point. He was in love with Lexi. He owed it to his brother to tell her right away. Himself, too. If he’d learned anything from Jason’s death it was to not wait to tell people you loved them. He had half a mind to drive over to Lexi’s tonight and declare himself, damn the consequences. Even if she didn’t love him back, he still wanted her to know.
Jamey stared at him aghast when he entered the lodge through the kitchen. “Maryfuckingmotherofchrist, what in the hell happened to you?”
“Long story.”
“Clearly. Are we talking about it?”
He shook his head. Not yet, but soon.
“Well as soon as you clean up, I have a favor to ask you.”
“Ask me now.”
“Blake asked Brodie and me to join him for a last minute meeting with a client in Kansas City who’s interested in making a farm-to-fork deal. They want me along to talk food. Is there any way I can leave Fiona with you tonight?”
Jarrod’s heart sank a little, but he’d never say no to spending time with his niece. “I’d love nothing more,” he answered with a genuine smile.
Jamey grinned back. “I’d hug you, but you look like shit. I’ve got food and two bottles of breastmilk in the fridge. You know the routine.”
“Food, bath, diaper, uncle time, bed.”
Jamey snorted. “Sure. Close enough. And thanks? This contract could be a big deal for us. Get us more clients visiting the lodge.”
He’d slept later than usual this morning, but it was just barely seven when Jarrod returned from his morning run to find Jamey and Brodie waiting for him in the kitchen. “What is it?” The tension in the kitchen was palpable, and a wave of fear hit him in the guts with the force of a locomotive. “Is everyone okay?” he asked too sharply.