by Maisey Yates
“You did. You slept with her.”
“I am sleeping with her,” he corrected, his tone hard. He hadn’t intended to admit it, because it just wasn’t Connor’s damn business. It felt like something that was just for him and Sadie. And it felt wrong to talk about it. Like it violated what they had. Like it violated her.
“Well,” Connor said, pushing his hat back on his forehead. “I did not expect that.”
“What?”
“To be right, for you to admit it if I was, and for it to have happened more than once.”
“I can’t even count how many times it’s happened.” And there he was putting male ego over decency, which he rarely did, but he was only human.
Connor shook his head and took another sip of his coffee. “For a second, I was jealous of you,” he said.
“Only for a second?” Eli asked.
“Yeah, then I remembered how much I don’t want to screw with any of that stuff ever again.”
Eli let out a long, slow breath. He didn’t want to have this conversation with Connor, but they were apparently having it. “You’re never going to sleep with anyone again?” he asked.
“Not planning on it.” He took another sip of coffee.
“That’s not... You’re thirty-four years old, Connor. That’s not healthy.”
“You don’t still believe in blue balls, do you?” Connor asked.
“No. Look, I just...” He swallowed. “I don’t like to tell you how to deal with this. To deal with Jessie, and the loss of her, because who am I? I’ve never loved a woman, Connor. I don’t plan on ever marrying one. It’s just not in the cards for me. But you have to move on.”
Connor shook his head, his jaw tight. “No, Eli, I don’t. I don’t have to move on. I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to do.”
“So you’re going to be like this forever?”
“Maybe. I run my ranch. I get the work done. What the hell else do I need to do?”
“Be okay?” Eli asked.
Connor laughed. “I’m not okay,” he said. “Why should I bother acting like I am?”
Eli looked down. “It’s been three years,” he said, his tone soft.
“And it was supposed to be a lifetime.” Connor put the lid back on his thermos. “When is the appropriate time to get over the loss of your whole life? Answer that question, Deputy.”
“I can’t,” Eli said.
“Yeah, I didn’t think so. You don’t want to get married.”
“Give me one reason why I should,” Eli said, leaning forward on the fence, propping his boot up on the bottom slat. “Love comes here to die.” It seemed a weird thing to say, with the pine trees in the distance tipped in gold from the sun, and the breeze coming in from the sea, mixing with the scent of earth, trees and livestock. With all these things that made the ranch look like heaven, it was hard to see it for what it was.
But the simple fact was, no one in his family had ever managed to hold on to love. The house, the Catalog House that he was starting to think of as Sadie’s, was the original monument to that. A gift for a woman who wouldn’t stay.
And on it had gone, all the way to Connor.
No, Eli had no plans to get married. He’d never seen a good reason to want love, and he’d seen plenty of reasons to avoid it.
“Yeah,” Connor said. “Sometimes it feels that way. But my point is, you already don’t want marriage. With the way things were for Dad after Mom left...I did, and look where it got me? Don’t you think I have enough of a reason to not want to get married again?”
“Sure, but not to never have sex again.”
“Let me worry about that.”
“Yeah, I promise I’ll never think about it again. Or ask you about it again.”
“Sounds like a plan. So there. You had the talk with me. You said the thing that’s been brewing. And I spoke my piece. You can call your brotherly duty done.”
“Good,” Eli said, but none of it felt good.
“The sex good?” Connor asked.
“What?”
“With Sadie. Is the sex good? Tell me that at least.”
“Damn good.”
Connor groaned. “Okay, well, we got that out of the way, too. World’s most awkward conversation?”
“Very.”
“Did you want to talk about religion or politics next?”
“I’ll pass,” Eli said.
“I guess we just fix the fence and mind our own business, then.”
“I’m okay with that.”
Eli went back to work, his eyes on the pale blue sky extending above lush green mountains. He tried not to replay the conversation he’d had with Connor. Tried not to remember the bleakness in his brother’s eyes. It was everything he’d been afraid was in him, said out loud. That Connor wasn’t okay at all.
And he couldn’t fix it. Dammit, he hated when he couldn’t fix it.
It was like his dad all over again. Watching somebody drown in sorrow, doing their best to manage their addiction until just once...just once you weren’t there to stop them. To care for them.
At least Connor wasn’t drinking as much as their father used to. But Eli worried. His brother sure as hell drank more now than he had before Jessie’s death.
The thought gave him heartburn. More than that, it made him want to get back into Sadie’s bed. At least there things were good.
Mind-bendingly good.
There, he didn’t think so much about the things he needed to fix that couldn’t be fixed. He could just think about himself. Just a hell of a lot more length of fence to fix, some calf vaccinations to deal with, and he’d be back with her.
That would be his happy thought for the day. It was rare he had a happy thought, and no one was more surprised than he was that today Sadie Miller was his.
* * *
“THANK YOU FOR COMING, KATE,” Sadie said, standing with one hand outstretched, an apron dangling from her fingertips.
Kate looked from side to side. “I see no half-naked deck builders.”
“You’re not here to ogle, sweetheart. You’re here to bake.”
Kate crossed her arms beneath her breasts, her dark eyebrows shooting upward. “I am?”
“Yep. We’re going to make dinner rolls. I mean, if you want to. I thought we could hang out. And since I’m trying to learn how to get some recipes perfected I thought this might be fun.” Sadie really hoped this might be Kate’s idea of fun. Otherwise she feared hanging out with Kate might involve intensive horseback riding, or something equally outdoorsy. Not that Sadie was opposed. She just needed to work up to it.
Much to her relief, Kate brightened and took the apron. “Sounds great.” She started putting the apron on. “Not that I really need to protect my clothes,” she said, indicating her plain white T-shirt and high-waisted jeans.
“Better than wearing flour for the rest of the day.”
Sadie started getting out mixing bowls and ingredients while Kate stood in the center of the kitchen, obviously slightly out of place in the environment.
“Let me guess,” Sadie said. “You don’t have much cooking experience.”
“Not really. Eli’s always done that. Throw meat on the grill, bring home pizza or whatever. Why are you cooking rolls for a bed-and-breakfast?”
“Well, I have to eat so I thought I would offer additional meals for an additional price a few days a week,” Sadie said. “Anyway, I like cooking.”
“Oh.” Kate moved in closer and stood at the counter.
“You sound surprised.”
“Eli never seemed to like it. But, I mean, he did it. And his food is edible. Unlike Connor’s...”
“So Eli did all the cooking for you guys?” Sadie asked, unbearably curious and slightly guilty. She should not be interrogating Kate about her brother. Especially because Kate’s brother was her secret lover. And if Kate knew that Sadie and Eli were sleeping together, she would probably make a horror face and run screaming from the room and never speak to
Sadie again.
And thus, Sadie would lose one of the very few friends she had.
“Yeah. He did. Connor kept the money coming in, and, I mean, Lord knows that was important, but...Eli was the one who made sure I was ready for school. He learned to braid my hair,” she said, her hand going to the hairstyle she still wore.
Sadie’s stomach squeezed tight, her eyes stinging. Eli’s strength was sexy, no question, but this? This was even sexier. It was a part of the strength, really. A part that most people wouldn’t see.
Braiding a little girl’s hair.
Sadie saw it, though. An older brother, a teenager, getting his little sister ready for school. Cooking meals. All things that would never be public, but that had shaped Kate into the woman she was.
Eli was all that had stood between Kate growing up to feel safe and secure...and growing up feeling like Sadie had. Like no one cared. Like she was better off cutting ties and leaving parents who didn’t want her anyway.
It was Eli who’d protected Kate’s trust. Her openness. Eli who’d given her her strength.
Sadie couldn’t help but be envious. And she realized then that the little fascination she’d had for him when she was a teenager hadn’t been about a bad girl wanting a cop. It had been about wanting a man with that kind of strength to protect her. Care for her.
Well, he didn’t. No one did. Deal with it.
“That’s...really sweet,” she said, grabbing a measuring cup and pushing it down into the flour bag, a white cloud rising up around them.
Kate smiled. “Well, don’t let him hear you say that. But then, if he’s still avoiding you, that shouldn’t be a problem.”
Sadie felt a twinge of guilt, which made a sucky companion to the envy. “Yeah,” she said. “Not sure when I’ll see him again. So, let’s make rolls.”
* * *
“POTATO SACK RACING.”
“Lame,” he said, lying back on the bed, keeping his focus on Sadie, who was sitting next to him, completely naked, her hair tumbling over her shoulders.
“It is not lame. Not for kids.”
“Three-legged race is better.”
“Unless you have to run with a boy who is stupid, doesn’t listen and stinks.”
“But what if you get to run with the cute girl that you have a crush on?” he asked, leaning in and kissing her shoulder.
“Did you have crushes?” she asked, cocking her head to the side.
“Sure, didn’t everyone?”
“I don’t know. Sometimes I kind of picture you like you sprang out of the ground wearing your uniform and a frown.”
“Your flattery is almost embarrassing.”
“Sorry if it didn’t sound complimentary,” she said. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t like you. Scratch that, I would be here, you wouldn’t be. And I would be alone.”
“Well, I wasn’t born in uniform.”
“And I wasn’t born running,” she said, smiling faintly.
“Life has a lot to answer for.”
“Sure does.”
She flopped backward, raising her arms above her head, and his eyes fell to the little silver scar on her side. A surgical scar. Sometimes he wanted to ask her about it, but ultimately, her medical history wasn’t really his business. So he didn’t ask.
“Where are you at on your big barbecue plans in terms of booths? We’ll put three-legged races to the side for now,” he said, shifting so that he was lying on his side.
“I’ve got pony rides. Cookie decorating, face painting. John from the Farm and Garden is going to bring over one of those mini-sheds that looks like a playhouse for the kids. And the pie eating. There will be pie eating.”
She ran her fingers through her hair and the temptation for him to do the same was too much. He wanted to pull her close. Play with the silky blond strands. Braid it. Which was not something he’d ever done for his lovers, but something about the idea appealed to him.
He wanted to take care of her.
He wrapped his hand around her hair, about to separate it into three separate sections, but she turned her head. He dropped his hands back down to his sides, the strange tightness in his chest dissipating a little.
He’d had a moment of temporary insanity. Sadie was good at doing that to him.
“What are you going to do about Alison?” he asked.
“Nothing,” she said, chewing her lip. “What can I do? I can buy pie from her. Hope she feels proud of her accomplishment. Hope she wants something different for herself, but really, there is nothing else I can do.”
He moved his hand over her breast, down over her stomach, his conscience tugging at him. “I told Connor,” he said.
“About Alison?” she asked, frowning.
“About you and me.”
She sat up, blinking. “Why?”
A damn good question. A weird impulse, as weird as the one he’d just had to braid her hair.
“I just... He sort of asked. Well, he tried guessing. He guessed I slept with you once, and I...corrected him. I’m not a very good liar.”
She leaned forward, covering her mouth, a giggle trapped behind it. “Oh, my gosh. No, I bet you aren’t.” She looked down at him, her hair sliding over her shoulders, over her breasts, covering pale pink nipples. She was such a tempting picture. Naughtier because she was smiling, because she was covered. He wanted her again. So soon. And it didn’t even shock him anymore. “You’re way too straitlaced.”
“I’m straitlaced?” he asked.
“Yeah, you kind of are.”
He pushed her onto her back and she shrieked, then he kissed her neck, feeling her pulse quicken beneath his lips. “How many straitlaced men do you know who can make you come so hard?”
He never talked to his lovers like this. Ever. Hell, he never really talked in bed at all. But she brought it out in him. He didn’t worry. He didn’t overthink. He told her what he wanted. And she loved it. And that did things to him. Things he hadn’t known he wanted to have done to him.
In truth, he’d never been this consumed by sex. Because his mind was always somewhere else. Because taking care of things was still in the forefront, but here, there wasn’t room for anyone but her and him.
“None. But then, I think this might be colored by the fact that I haven’t exactly tested the sexual prowess of every straitlaced man I’ve known.”
“Fair point.”
“I like that you don’t lie,” she said, her blue eyes on his. “I like that when I look at you, I feel like I really see you. Not just the man you want the world to see.”
That made him feel a little guilty. Since, in so many ways, he felt like he did just put on a good front. The man who seemed unruffled on the surface, hiding the festering pool of worry beneath. The gut-churning terror all the responsibility he took on built in him.
“Sadie...”
“No. If you’re going to tell me you have secrets, just don’t. Because I want to think I know. What’s the harm in thinking that for now? It’s not like this is forever.”
“No,” he said. “It’s not.”
For some reason, her words and the agreement made his chest feel like it was full of lead.
“So let’s have the fantasy. You be the straitlaced badass who rocks my world. I’ll be comfortable here with you, trusting you. All well-adjusted and stuff.” She smiled and kissed his chin, wrapped her legs around his calves.
“Are you saying you aren’t well-adjusted?”
“Shh. In the fantasy, I am.”
“Are you drunk?”
“A little,” she said. “You won’t share the wine with me so it’s not my fault I have to drink more than normal.”
“Connor won’t tell anyone,” he said. He was sure of that. Because the information Connor had given in exchange was too precious. Connor wouldn’t want anyone to know how bad he was hurting. How hopeless he felt.
Eli didn’t even really want to know, but he did. And now he had to try to fix it. Make it right.
&
nbsp; He could never escape that feeling.
He pushed it aside, though, because Sadie was beneath him, and devoting everything to that sensation was, right now, more important.
“It’s for the best. We don’t need everyone all up in our business. And besides, Lydia is a good ally. She keeps the Chamber of Commerce on my side. And I have a feeling she might cut me if she knew I was sleeping with you.”
“Really?”
“She’s very smiley. I find that concerning.”
“Maybe she’s friendly.”
“Maybe,” Sadie said. “You are just something else.”
“Am I?”
“How have you seen so much of the crap you have, and still... How are you so good, Eli Garrett?”
“I have to be,” he said, the words slipping out before he had a chance to think them through.
“Why?” she asked, pushing his hair off his forehead.
“If I’m not...who will be?”
“Not enough people,” she said.
“You are,” he said.
“Me? You mean me, who runs away from everything and everyone?”
“I should never have said that to you. I’m sorry.” Regret tightened his stomach.
She shook her head. “You weren’t wrong. And the more I see you here, the more I realize how much harder it is to deal with people when you have to watch them not learn. And not listen.”
“Regardless, it doesn’t mean that you haven’t helped people. You listen to people.”
“For money,” she said.
“So? Some people would pay to not listen to people’s problems.”
She laughed. “Okay, so maybe we’re both okay?”
“Sure. We’re both okay.”
“Right now anyway.” She arched against him, sending a shock of pleasure down his spine.
“Right now I’m more than okay.”
* * *
SADIE CLOSED HER LAPTOP and looked out the window at the row of buildings across the street. The sky was bright blue, clear, the breeze pushing waves over the American flag that rose up from the two-story restaurant behind the main street, just off the harbor. She imagined it was creating matching waves on the sea beyond the buildings, too.