by Shayla Black
Trees and I are about twenty minutes from the ranch. Need us to bring anything in?
I’m good. Just get here. A lot to fill you in on.
Roger that.
Josiah tucked his phone away and poured another cup of brew as Maggie stumbled downstairs. He smelled her before he saw her because she reeked of sex and woman. His cock was already standing up before he turned.
When he caught sight of her, he almost dropped his mug.
She’d piled her long golden hair on top of her head in a messy bun, which left the graceful curve of her neck bare. Two love bites dotted her skin. The one on her shoulder he’d given her while they’d fucked in his truck. The other? How could he forget spreading her across the big bed upstairs and marking her skin because he’d sucked on her desperately just before unloading inside her?
As if the memories weren’t enough to rattle him, Maggie wore only her infamous white lacy bralette—and holy shit, he could see the hazy hint of her areolas and her poking nipples—and a pair of tight black exercise pants.
“Morning. Coffee.” She delivered the demand in a voice that sounded just shy of zombie.
Swallowing hard, he handed her a mug. “What the hell are you wearing? I can see your nipples.”
She shrugged as she poured from the pot. “So? You’ve already seen them. And I think you liked them. Papa just wandered out to talk to Sawyer, and Granna is finishing up their packing. No one will see me but you.”
“I have two co-workers arriving in a few minutes.”
Maggie took a big gulp of the brew. “I’ll put on something else then, if it makes you feel better. But it’s not like I have three boobs or other body parts they’ve never seen.”
No, she had two breasts, and right now, they were his. Well, they’d been his last night, and he wasn’t willing to share.
On the other hand, if he was going to step back from her, why should he get any say in who saw any part of her body?
She took another sip and sidled up to him, her hand dropping to his cock. “So . . . we’ve got ten minutes. What should we do with them?”
At her firm stroke, Josiah resisted the urge to toss his head back in pleasure. Every time Maggie put her hands on him, she sparked his blaze. Damn her. He’d been over all the reasons he needed to put distance between them. Her grandfather had even added to the list. But right now, all he could think about was getting inside her again.
Gritting his teeth, he set her away . . . though he really didn’t want to. “C’mon. Put some clothes on that don’t show your tits.”
She raised a tawny brow at him. “My breasts suddenly offend you? Does that have anything to do with the reason you got out of bed without waking me up properly?”
Properly? By fucking her?
Shit, if he’d been looking for something even semipermanent, Maggie would be perfect for him. She loved sex as much as he did.
“We couldn’t spend all day in bed.”
“No, but maybe an hour.” She cocked her head. “Oh, I get it now. This is the part where you say we’ve shared laughs but, for whatever reason—I’ll let you fill in the blank; it doesn’t really matter—things have to end between us. It’s all over your face.” She released him and backed into a nearby chair, curling one leg beneath her and hugging her coffee mug like a security blanket. She didn’t look at him, just stared into her brew as if he didn’t exist. “Whatever. I was pretty much over it, too.”
She was lying. Nothing in her expression or voice gave away her pain, but he sensed it. And he felt like a heel.
Goddamn it, he was trying to be a responsible adult, focus on the reason he’d stayed beyond Shealyn and Cutter’s wedding. It hadn’t been to sleep with Maggie. Well, not entirely. But right now, Josiah found himself wanting to comfort her.
“Baby, I’m supposed to be working. I won’t be here much longer, and I don’t think either one of us is looking to get tied up in a relationship when we live hours apart and—”
“You don’t have to explain. Itch scratched. Moving on. It’s fine.”
No, it wasn’t. In fact, something about her face told him that he couldn’t have hurt her more if he’d gone out of his way to wound her. Fuck.
“I’ve got to go.” She stood, steadfastly not looking his way. The mood in the room turned uncomfortable.
“Where?”
“To cover up.” She stretched, arms above her head, rising on her tiptoes.
The sun slanted in through the window and turned her bralette completely transparent. Desire jolted him. Jesus, he couldn’t stop wanting her. But what he felt now was more than simple lust. Of course he wanted inside her body. But he also found himself wanting to be even deeper so he could assure her that . . . what? She was beautiful? Maggie had been chased by too many men not to know it. That she was fascinating? Worthy? That he wanted her? All of those seemed so obvious.
Then what was it that kept her from truly allowing other people close?
“After all, I don’t want to offend you.” She rolled her eyes.
Josiah could just imagine those nipples in his mouth, his cock inside her, his lips covering hers. He could imagine himself beside her, sharing hopes and tomorrows with her and—
He stopped the train of thought there. After all, he had a million fucking reasons to shut this desire down.
None of them changed how much he ached to have and hold her again.
“See you around,” she tossed out.
“Maggie, don’t—”
“We have nothing left to say, hotshot.”
Her dismissive tone made his teeth grate, and the last thing he wanted to do was pick a fight with her. So he chose another tactic. “You going with me to San Antonio?”
She shook her head. “I’ll say goodbye to Granna and Papa here. While you’re gone, I’ll convince Sawyer to take me out to the bar so I can pick up my car.”
“I don’t think you should be alone with Sawyer.”
She turned and swayed toward the kitchen door, glancing at him over her shoulder. “I don’t think that’s any of your business.”
Before Josiah could reply, she rounded the corner and disappeared. He started after her, but his phone buzzed again in his pocket.
We’re here.
Fuck, his fellow operatives had terrible timing. With a sigh, he headed to the door.
When he yanked it open, he found two familiar faces. Zyron, whose nickname had developed because he was a dead ringer for Zac Efron, strolled up, those piercing blue eyes assessing everyone and everything. Trees climbed out from the driver’s seat next, his warm brown hair glinting in the sun. He unfolded his big body to his towering height, rubbing his palms down long legs. Josiah wasn’t short, but he couldn’t imagine being six foot seven. Trees had to duck everywhere he went. The guy wasn’t scrawny, either. And as usual, his expression was unreadable.
“Hey,” Josiah called to them.
“Hey,” Zyron shot back with a bob of his head. “How’s it going?”
“Oh, you know. The usual. Murder, a crazy secretive sect, homemade hallucinogenic drugs . . .” Woman turning me inside out.
“Damn, that sounds like a good time. Don’t you think?” Zyron clapped Trees on the shoulder.
“No. It sounds like a recipe for more people to get hurt.”
People said Trees lacked a sense of humor. From what Josiah could see, they were right.
“I know, buddy. It’s actually worrying the shit out of me.”
“So what’s next?” Zyron grabbed his duffel from the cab and headed to the house. “And what do you need us to do?”
As Trees snagged his bag and marched toward the front door, Josiah filled them in on Mr. Haney’s murder, Mercy and her home-brewed concoction, and everything about Enlightenment Fields he knew. He didn’t say a word about Maggie.
When Josiah
was done, Zyron whistled as they all sat around the kitchen table. “That’s a lot of deep shit.”
“And it needs to stay on the down-low from Shealyn and Maggie’s grandparents. They’re already targets, so we’ve convinced them to leave town for the foreseeable future. A conveniently timed vacation to California.”
“And with Shealyn on her honeymoon with Cutter, that keeps her safe. What about the sister?”
He sighed. “That stubborn woman refuses to go anywhere. So we’ll have to keep her safe. I’m worried she’s a target, too. I wouldn’t put it past any one of ‘the Chosen’—that’s what they call themselves—not to use her to get to the Wests.”
“In their shoes, I would.” Zyron confirmed Josiah’s worst fear.
Trees nodded. “Ditto.”
“So if Maggie won’t leave the ranch, we have to be sure she’s never alone.”
Josiah was grappling with the logistics of that when the woman in question strutted into the room. “Hey, y’all. You must be Josiah’s co-workers. I’m Maggie.”
Zyron and Trees both stood like good Southern gentlemen. As if in a trance, Josiah did, too. What the hell was she wearing? Or more precisely, what wasn’t she wearing?
She’d replaced the transparent bralette with a pale blue . . . something he hesitated to call a shirt. It covered her breasts, sure. But it hugged them so tightly he’d have known their exact size and shape even if he’d never put them in his hands and mouth. The long, lean line of her torso was bare, in all its sun-kissed glory. The indentation of her small waist gave way to the flare of her hips, exaggerated by the tiny scrap of denim that clung to them and passed as shorts. She wore beat-up brown cowboy boots and a smile full of hospitality.
Josiah wanted to cover her with a blanket and carry her up to the bedroom, especially when he caught Trees staring at her with a rapt gaze and definite wood beneath his fly.
Shit.
“Hi.” Zyron held out his hand and introduced himself. “Nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.” She turned to Trees, caught his expression, and fucking batted her lashes. “And you?”
“T-Trees. Well, real name’s Forest, but . . .”
“You’re tall as a tree, so everyone gave you that nickname?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Maggie shook her head, tendrils spilling from her messy bun brushing the delicate line of her neck. “I’m not ‘ma’am.’ That’s my grandmother. You can call me Maggie. Or Mags.” She slid a gaze in Josiah’s direction. “Or by my given name, Magnolia. Josiah called me that for a while, but he won’t be doing that anymore.”
Son of a bitch. She was inviting Trees to use her full name? Did she imagine he’d be inside her when he said it, too? Josiah tried to look unfazed, but he was so not okay with that.
“That’s a pretty name.” Trees swallowed.
“Thanks.” She sent the big guy a flirty smile.
Josiah watched mutely. She was goading him. He’d tried to cut her loose because it was better for them both. And here she was, tossing his nobility in his face. Clearly, she wanted to make him jealous and regret his decision.
It was working.
“Can I get y’all something to drink?” she offered, sashaying to the refrigerator and extracting a water bottle.
Everyone declined, but Trees did so with his eyes glued to her ass.
“So what happens now?” she asked them. “Josiah is taking my grandparents to the airport and . . .”
“I’ll be staying here.” Trees couldn’t seem to blurt that fast enough.
Of course he’d volunteer. If anyone could figure out how to defend a ranch this size with limited resources, it was the hulk. And that was probably the instructions Hunter, Logan, and Joaquin had given him. But Josiah didn’t like how eager Trees seemed. He would be alone with Maggie for at least three hours.
Josiah stifled a curse. Maggie had managed to unwind him in far, far less time. His tall counterpart had made no bones about the fact he was always looking for a pretty woman.
“Looks like I’m with you, buddy. And you’re driving.” Zyron bumped his shoulder. “On the way back, we can strategize. I’ll tell you about some of my research. We’ll do a drive-by of the enemy territory.”
“Sure.” But all Josiah could think about was Maggie and Trees alone.
“If you have time, Forest, maybe you could take me to retrieve my car?” Maggie sidled over to his fellow operative with a smile. “It’s just down the road. If you’d like, we’ll have a beer and a few laughs, too.”
Josiah gritted his teeth. She was pushing his buttons, swinging her hips and batting her lashes—and begging him to take her over his knee. He should leave it alone, but he’d be damned if he let Trees touch her.
“I’ll take you to get your car when I get back.”
“You don’t have to trouble yourself.” She wrapped a hand around Trees’s trunk of a biceps and gave Josiah a saccharine smile. “Forest looks more than capable of helping me out.”
As Josiah bit back a retort he’d probably regret, Maggie’s grandparents shuffled into the room, rolling more luggage behind them. Josiah made quick introductions and reminded them that Zyron and Trees had come at Cutter’s behest to shore up security on the ranch.
Maggie’s grandfather nodded, seemingly relieved.
“Well, we’re ready.” Mrs. West looked a tad reluctant to go. “We never had time for a first honeymoon, much less a second one, so this will be an adventure.” She turned to Maggie. “You sure you don’t want to go to LA instead? Maybe you’ll get ‘discovered’ like your sister.”
“And take away your time together? Heavens, no. I don’t want that. I want to be famous even less. Go,” Maggie said softly. “Have a good time. The boys and I will be fine.”
“If you need anything—”
“We’ll take care of her,” Josiah promised, fighting everything inside him not to put his arm around her.
Why did he still want a woman he shouldn’t? One so bad for his peace of mind?
“All right, then. We’ll see you in a couple of weeks, Maggie.” The older woman looked at her granddaughter fondly, as if she was going to miss the hellion very much.
Maggie dropped Trees’s arm, along with her attitude. Her face flushed with emotion and her eyes welled as she hugged her grandmother tight. “I know we’re not apart much, Granna, but I always miss you when we are.”
Mrs. West cupped her cheek. “Call us, sweet girl.”
She backed away quickly with a brisk nod, trying to compose herself. “I will.”
Then her grandfather wrapped her in a big hug. Maggie reciprocated without hesitation. Josiah watched wordlessly.
Did Maggie get more attached to people than she wanted to admit? Than she wanted anyone to know?
With those questions burrowing into his brain, he shot Trees a warning glare, picked up the Wests’ suitcases, and hauled them to their SUV. Moments later, they were heading to San Antonio.
The ride and the subsequent hours of shopping seemed to drag on forever. But thankfully the trip was uneventful. Maggie’s grandparents seemed delighted to meet the Santiagos, despite their unconventional family. Then again, Javier and Xander’s wife, London, was about the nicest, warmest woman he’d ever met. The pretty blonde had a contagious smile, as did their daughter, Dulce. When London dropped a hand to her swelling stomach and said they were going on a family trip that doubled as a babymoon, Mrs. West especially seemed to melt.
Josiah sent them off with a wave and well-wishes. When they hopped back in the truck, he turned to his pal. “Let’s hurry. I want to get back to the ranch.”
“So you can stake your claim on Maggie?” Zyron raised a brow.
“So . . . I guess I wasn’t very subtle.”
“You all but peed on her, dude. How serious is it?”
“I tri
ed to break it off with her this morning, but . . .”
“The fever hasn’t run its course.”
“Hell no. If anything, it’s burning hotter.”
Zyron smiled cynically. “The bosses won’t be happy. They’ve barely forgiven Cutter for fucking on the job, and only did eventually because all ended well and he married her.”
Yeah, he knew. “If they find out what’s been up between me and Maggie, my ass is grass, and they’re the lawn mowers.”
“I won’t say a word, but . . . are the bosses’ opinions really that important if you like this girl?”
“No, but Maggie isn’t the marrying type.” At least he didn’t think so. “Neither am I. What about you and little Tess? The bosses still firm that she’s off-limits?”
“Unless I want to quit, yes.” He groaned. “She’s a receptionist, for fuck’s sake, not a fellow operator. I don’t get it. But it doesn’t really matter. She’s gun-shy and too busy being a new mom. I’d sure like to meet the son of a bitch who got her pregnant and ran out so I could punch him in the face.”
“I second that.”
Quiet Tessa Gilbert was so sweet and shy and full of gumption to face all she had and still keep smiling. For a moment, he wished he could have been drawn to someone like her. She’d never walk out on their wedding or break his heart, like Whitney had. Like Maggie probably would, given half a chance. But no, he had to be drawn to the kind of woman who kept him hot and yanked his chain.
What a stupid bastard.
For the next forty minutes, Josiah drove down the highway. He felt antsy, like he itched. Gripping the wheel, he shifted in the seat and gazed out at the road. Nope, he was still uncomfortable. Squinting against the bright, cold January blue, he flipped down the visor, rolled his shoulders, and turned on the radio. Was the SUV fucking moving in slow motion? It felt as if they’d been on this road for three years, and he was still miles from Comfort.
A glance over the side of the freeway at the bar he’d confronted Maggie in last night told him her car was gone. So she’d sweet-talked Trees into taking her to pick up her vehicle. She hadn’t listened. Had she flirted with him while she’d sidled into the bucket seat beside his for the cozy twenty-minute ride here?