Wargasm

by Sosie Frost

“I caught him in the barn, lit cigarette in his hand. He didn’t even say a word. Just flicked the cig into the hay. Then he lit another one.”

  Rem rubbed his beard and combed a frustrated hand through his hair. I squeezed his shoulder, but I don’t think it helped the memory.

  “I leapt on him before he could toss the second one,” he said. “We fought until we were bloody. He broke my nose. I bashed his head against the barn door. It took a concussion before he realized what he’d done. Then…he panicked. The fire was already out of control. We got most of the cows out, but after that…it had to burn.”

  I hugged myself. “It was chaos. Middle of the night. Everyone was panicked. Terrified.”

  “It sobered me up, right then and there. I saw everything. It was my fault Tidus had ended up the way he was. He’d taken on his vices because of me. And I never tried to help him, only wanted to get in more trouble.”

  “So you took the blame?”

  “If your father had known Tidus set the fire, he’d have kicked him off the farm and out of the family. It would have destroyed you guys. Torn you apart. I couldn’t let it happen. The Paynes were the only real family I ever knew, the only ones I’d ever loved. And you did so much for me, all the while I pissed away my chances and made it harder for everyone, including Tidus.”

  I wished I could have held him, but my feet didn’t move. “You were a kid, Rem.”

  “And I became a man that day. I took responsibility. I said it was me. I told Tidus to shut his mouth, turn his damn life around, and to help his old man instead of fighting all the damn time. I told him I wanted to keep your family together—to spare them the pain that would have come from the truth.” His words hollowed. “And I left that night.”

  “Without saying goodbye,” I whispered. “Without telling me the truth.”

  “I had to, Cas. I wasn’t anywhere near good enough for you then. I couldn’t take care of you. Couldn’t support you. Couldn’t even keep myself clean. You deserved someone better.” He brushed my cheek with his hand. “So I’m going to be better for you.”

  The tears threatened to roll over my cheeks. “Do you know how long I spent loving you and hating you and missing you and trying to get over you?”

  “Same amount of time I loved you, hated myself, missed you, and regretted leaving.”

  “I would have understood.”

  “Maybe. I did so much to protect your family that I forgot to start one of my own. And I want to change that now. I want you, Cas. Me. You. The girls, for as long as they need. I wasn’t born into a family, but your parents gifted one to me. Now it’s my turn. I want to create that family with you.”

  I bit my lip, but the words tumbled out anyway. “You always had one here, Rem. I never stopped loving you.”

  His smile washed away my fear and anger and hesitance. “I can help with the farm. Work it with Jules and your brothers. Restore it to how your Dad imagined it. We can do it together, Sassy. Rebuild over the bad memories and make new ones. Better ones.”

  I slipped into his arms. “What sort of memories?”

  “The best kind.”

  “Me and you?”

  “If you’ll have me,” he said.

  “If you think I’m letting you get away from me this time…”

  “Got some rope in the truck if you want to tie me down.”

  I grinned, sneaking closer for a kiss. “I can do one better.”

  “That so?”

  “Oh, Remington Marshall…” I nibbled on his bottom lip. “I’m going to make it so good for you that I’ll be surprised if you could even walk, let alone escape me.”

  “I’m not going anywhere, Sassy.” He winked. “Except down.”

  “That a promise?”

  “It’s a vow, if you’ll say yes.”

  “Might need some convincing.”

  Rem swept me into his arms and headed for the shed. I squealed, but he silenced me with a kiss. “I’ll prove how much I love you if I have to fuck you all day and night.”

  “Think that’ll be enough?”

  He kissed me again.

  “It’s a start.”

  Epilogue

  Rem

  The sunlight hinted through Cassi’s bedroom window, kissing her warm, dark skin.

  Not a bad sight in the morning, made even better by her ridiculously small twin bed. I didn’t mind. Just kept her closer to me. Wrapped in my arms. Safe under me while I moved within her all night.

  I kissed that lovely shoulder. Tickled my fingers down her graceful arm. Woke her as I shifted her against my chest.

  She’d hardly batted her eyes open, but she offered her body.

  I slipped inside that tightness with a guttural groan. Her whispered gasp was the only sound I’d ever wanted to hear in the morning.

  Tight. Our bodies fit together in delirious perfection. Nothing rushed. Nothing heated. Nothing desperate.

  She was mine. I was hers.

  And I claimed her body with every stroke just as she claimed mine with the little bump of her hips.

  She shook first, tensing over my length with fingertips curled into the pillows. I followed, spilling every drop of seed as deep into her as I could get.

  And we rested together. Soundless. Warm. Peaceful.

  Like it could have been for so long.

  Like it would be from here on out.

  Her door clattered open and slammed against the wall. Cassi jumped, covering herself with the blanket. Fortunately, Mellie was too excited to hear.

  “Pancakes!” She screeched, her fists drawn to her chin like breakfast was a wicked machination. “Want pancakes!”

  And now so did the rest of the house.

  Mellie scurried down the hall and hollered for breakfast. Cassi giggled, pushed from the bed, and quickly wound a robe around her lovely body.

  “And here I thought the only early riser was you.” Her eyebrow arched at the tent accidentally pitched in the bed. “Better put that way. You have a big day ahead of you, Mr. Marshall.”

  I needed a shower and a cup of coffee before I could comprehend it. “Just amazed Jules went for the idea.”

  “He’s wanted that barn rebuilt for months,” Cassi winked. “Who better to help him construct it than the man who…” She shrugged. “Well, the man who watched it burn.”

  “Cross your fingers.” I slipped from the bed and pulled on jeans before any wayward children or protective brothers happened to barge into the room. “I heard this zoning officer is a hardass. Citing some new regulations or some bullshit. Barn might be too close to the property line to rebuild or something.”

  Cassi pouted. “It was there before. Stood there for a hundred years.”

  “I’m only repeating what Emma said. Her new boyfriend’s worked some construction jobs in the area. Said the whole zoning department is fuc—heyyyy. You’re back!”

  Mellie waited at the door, impatiently pleading with opened arms for her pancakes.

  “Please!” She begged while hopping on one foot. “I’m hungry!”

  “Better get you food before you waste away.” I snatched her up and hauled her over my shoulder, winking at Cassi. “Meet you downstairs?”

  Cassi smirked. “You’re getting to be a natural at that now.”

  I gave Mellie’s tush a smack as she giggled. “Not yet. Soon though.”

  The kid giggled, squirmed, and kicked me in the gut.

  No better way to start the morning.

  No better way to wake up. No better woman. No better kids.

  No better family.

  The pancakes came, went, and half of them ended on the floor. Wasn’t even Mellie this time. Quint’s ADD rattled him off the ways without the addition of maple syrup. A little scrubbing and a nap later—both for Quint and the girls—and all I had to deal with was Jules stalking the porch.

  “Where the hell is this zoning officer?” Jules checked his watch, eyed the storm clouds, and jerked a thumb towards the fields. “The farm is already a solid
layer of mud from the rain last night. If he doesn’t get here soon, we’ll all sink out there.”

  I bounced Tabby on my lap as she attempted to bolt and toddle away. I should have let her go. The surprise in her diaper wasn’t the first impression Jules and me needed to give this county zoning guy.

  I didn’t bother heading inside. Tabby and me were pros now. I laid a blanket over the porch and grabbed the kid, diaper bag always at the ready.

  Jules paced again, avoiding the mess. He checked his phone. “I’m gonna call that office.”

  “It’s local government,” I said. “They move at a different pace.”

  “They said eleven. It’s twelve. Why didn’t this asshole call?”

  “Because…local government.”

  “Isn’t that what we pay taxes for?” He dialed the phone. Wouldn’t get him anywhere, but it cooled him down. “Christ, I’m paying this bastard’s salary. He can’t even show up on time?”

  I tucked the dirty diaper in a spare bag and slid and fresh one under Tabby’s butt. Should have kept the wipes out.

  A slinking, huffing figure stormed up the driveway—half-mud, half-homicidal rage.

  For some random asshole at the zoning office, the dude rocked a skirt. His legs went to his chin, his dress hugged the right curves, and even the mud complimented that cinnamon skin.

  This couldn’t have been the zoning officer. I didn’t know the lady. But she was pissed.

  “Jules,” I said.

  He ignored my warning.

  “You know, this is what’s wrong with the world,” he said. “I’m trying my goddamned hardest to get this farm up and running. How am I supposed to work if the taxes are killing me, the regulation is binding my hands, and now this zoning bullshit tells me where I can and can’t build on my own damn property?”

  I eyed the woman stomping her foot behind him. “Jules…”

  “This is our land. It was my father’s land. His father’s land. And his father’s land.” Jules slammed a hand against the siding of the house. “They built this home with their bare hands. Then they worked the land every day of the year. Sunup to sundown. And there wasn’t any municipality telling them what they could and couldn’t do on their own land.”

  I gestured to the woman caked in mud as she grew more pissed by the second. “Julian.”

  “Now I have some hotshot wannabe politician telling me what to do? Probably some fatass who never even set foot on a farm. Never worked a day in his life, sitting behind some desk in a cushy office, getting off on every rejected building application. Know it took me two weeks to even get an appointment with this asshole? He’s too goddamned incompetent show up on time.”

  “Julian!” I grabbed Tabby off the blanket and stood. “I think he is here.”

  Jules turned, took one look at the woman coated in mud, and burst out laughing.

  Pretty sure this was how the Paynes would inevitably lose their farm.

  “What the hell…who are you?” Julian stared at the woman. “What happened to you?”

  “Someone….” The woman seethed, practically melting the mud from her body. It stained her business suit, her purse, and her bare feet. What the hell had happened to her shoes? “There’s a…it was locked…”

  Jules grabbed Tabby’s blanket and offered it to her. She refused, fists balled at her side, the rage choking her.

  Livid.

  Yep.

  She was about to go nuclear.

  “The gate was locked.” She pointed down the path. “I had to get out…open it…mud everywhere…” She peeked at her wiggling toes, coated in mud and bits of grass. “My shoes…sucked in. And you.” She hissed at Jules. “Are you Julian Payne?”

  “Yeah. Who the hell are you?”

  “Your appointment.” She gritted her teeth. “And I would have been here sooner if someone hadn’t locked the gate. I fell into the mud then had to claw my way here.”

  Jules shook his head. “Look, swamp thing. I’m sorry you got a little dirty, but I got an appointment with Micah Robinson, not…”

  And here I thought I made bad choices. Jules made worse decisions. A lot worse.

  “…Not his secretary.”

  The woman started to laugh, though I got the feeling she didn’t find his statement that funny.

  “You know, honey,” she said. “I was doing you a favor.”

  “Were you?”

  “Coming out in person. Seeing the farm. Meeting this Julian Payne everyone keeps talking about.” Her rage seemed to manifest in a torturous retribution. “But I can tell you right now what the decision will be regarding your barn.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah…it’s gonna get denied. Hard.” She wiped the mud from her face and stormed away. “Don’t bother helping me with the gate. I think I got it.”

  “Don’t let it knock you on your ass on the way out, sweetheart.”

  Tabby gave an excited wave. “Buh-bye!”

  “That’s right, kid.” Jules snorted. “Bye-bye.”

  He yanked out his phone and put the call on speaker as he dialed the zoning office.

  “What the hell are you doing?” I asked. “Ratting her out?”

  “Who the hell is this Micah Robinson?” Jules nearly crushed his cell in his fist. “I had to send him half a dozen emails to even schedule this meeting. Least he can do is tell me he’s cancelling the appointment.”

  “He didn’t cancel.” I pointed to the woman marching away. “He sent her.”

  “He sent his secretary.” Jules waited while the phone rang a dozen times. “Damn it. He won’t even answer!”

  The voice mail message began. A pre-recorded, gentle voice graciously offered an excuse for the absence.

  A woman’s voice.

  “This is Micah Robinson, Sawyer County Zoning Department.” Her words dripped sweetness instead of mud. “I’m out of the office for the day, but please leave your name and number, and I’ll return your call shortly. Or, you can email me, at…”

  Jules ended the call and sucked in a breath.

  I owed him a moment of silence for the farm he’d just killed.

  “So…” I said. “That was…Micah.”

  Jules exhaled and nearly deflated. “Yeah.”

  I nodded. “Micah’s a woman.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Micah is…” I pointed with Tabby’s hand. She giggled. Jules did not. “That woman, stomping away.”

  “Of course, she is.”

  “So…”

  Jules collapsed onto the porch’s top step as the rain fell in a sudden torrent. He watched his only chance at a barn angrily storm off his property, her soaking wet dress clinging to her curves.

  “This…” Jules spoke mostly to himself. “This is going to get really complicated.”

  I hauled Tabby into my arms and brought her inside while the rain gusted onto the porch in sheets.

  Jules stayed in the rain. Probably for the best.

  Cassi waited for me in the kitchen as she mixed a jug of lemonade with Mellie. She peeked out the window, watching the woman in the distance.

  “What happened?” she asked. “Was that the zoning officer?”

  I lowered Tabby to the ground. She toddled to Cassi, grabbed her leg, and plunked down on her foot.

  “After some debate…we have concluded that that woman was, in fact, the zoning officer.”

  “What’d she say?”

  “Before or after Jules inadvertently locked her off the property, got her stuck in a mud puddle, then insulted her?”

  It didn’t surprise her. “Do we get the barn?”

  “Not looking good.”

  I couldn’t stand to see her upset. The pitcher of lemonade clunked on the table. I pulled her as close as I could get with both ankle-biters hugging alternate legs.

  “Hey…” I tucked a curl behind her ear. “Don’t worry about the barn.”

  “We need it,” she said. “The farm’s gotta get up and running. Jules is working so hard.
If we get it built, maybe the others will see. Maybe they’ll come around. Stop fighting. Start…acting like a family again.”

  “They don’t need a barn for that.” I traced a finger over her chest, to her heart. “That’s why they got you. As long as you’re taking care of them, no one should worry.”

  “I suddenly have a lot to take care of…” She hummed. “These two girls.”

  “They’re little. Don’t take up much room.”

  “Marius.”

  “You’re alternating weeks with the others to stay in DC with him.”

  “And you…”

  “Me?” I smirked. “There’s only one thing you can do for me.”

  “Not in the middle of the kitchen with the girls here.”

  I conceded that. “Okay…two things.”

  “And what’s that?”

  I leaned in and captured her a kiss. “Tell me you love me.”

  “On one condition.”

  “Name it.”

  “You tell me first.”

  That wouldn’t a problem. I’d never stop saying it.

  “I love you, Sassy.”

  How had I ever run from her smile?

  “I love you too.”

  The End

  Boyfrenemy - Payne Brothers Romance #2

  The classic tale of the farmer and the pain-in-the-ass zoning officer preventing him from building his barn.

  Boyfrenemy

  Copyright © 2018 by Sosie Frost

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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