by Lori Foster
“I’m going to miss Louie.” She sniffed, balled her little hands into fists and started to rush from the gazebo.
Shohn blocked her. “What the hell, Nadine? You’ll see him again.”
“Oh, no, no I will not.” She turned on him, her upset morphing into fury. “That deal is done.”
“What deal?”
“Me babysitting so you can…can…”
His brows snapped down and his voice rose. “Can what?” What the hell was she accusing him of?
“Last night,” she said with a curled lip. “You were at the park with three women.”
“Yeah, till damn near midnight. So?”
Gasping, she said with incredulity, “And you expect to just waltz back in here?”
“Here, in the gazebo?”
“No!” She turned then turned again to come full circle. “Here, with me.”
“Well, first off, I didn’t waltz, damn it. I walked like I always walk—” But maybe with a little more of a stomp. “And yeah, I didn’t expect you to be the jealous type.”
She huffed. “I’m leaving.”
“No.”
“No?”
Damn, everyone on the lake had probably heard that one word. “Not until you explain what’s going on.”
“You want the nitty-gritty? You want me to spell it out?”
Since he was totally lost… “Yeah.”
“Fine! You can’t two-time me.”
That sounded so absurd, Shohn gave a slow grin. “You’re kidding, right?”
Now she did storm away. Or at least she tried. Stunned, Shohn pulled her right back around again. “You’re not kidding.”
Shoving up to her tiptoes, she said into his face, “You. Were with. Another. Woman!”
“Not with her, just helping her out.” Shohn took a step closer still and replied with just as much ferocity. “Jesus, Nadine, I haven’t wanted another woman since that first time we kissed, I’ve spent every available minute with you, and I sure as hell wouldn’t abandon my cat at your place for a casual hookup!”
To his surprise, Nadine thought about it then gave a demure shrug. “Yeah, I sort of knew that. You’ve been so kind to Louie.”
His eyes flared. “Out of everything I just said that’s what you heard?” He gripped her shoulders, keeping her close. “Forget the cat. I told you that I don’t want any other woman. Just you.”
“Seriously?”
He threw up his hands.
“But you carry a spare set of clothes and an overnight kit—”
“In case I get stuck in the woods. Not because I sleep with every woman I meet.”
She raised a brow in disbelief.
“Now that’s just annoying. I don’t lie, damn it. And for your information, I don’t invite women back to my apartment, either.”
“You invited me.”
“Because you’re different.”
She frowned at him for shouting. “But Garrett said…”
“What? That the lady was flirting with me? She was.”
Nadine crossed her arms. “So why didn’t you set her straight?”
“I tried, but Garrett was there and you’re the one who doesn’t want anyone else to know we’re a couple.”
In a very small voice, she said, “We’re a couple?”
In his mind they were. “I’m damn straight not going to share you, so if that’s what you’re thinking, forget it.”
She licked her bottom lip and, gazing up at him, touched a hand to his chest. “Fine. I’m not sharing, either, then.”
“Fine. Didn’t ask you to. And I’ll repeat it again—I don’t want anyone else!”
Amber stuck her head in, her grin victorious. “You two have rather carrying voices.”
Garrett crowded in behind her, almost knocking her over. “And seriously, Nadine, he wasn’t flirting back. In fact, I wondered why he wasn’t since the lady looked so…” His gaze swept over to his sister and then back to Nadine. “Appealing.”
“You were going to say something obnoxious like “‘doable,’ weren’t you?” Amber shouldered him aside. “I’m not ten, Garrett, I can hear the big-boy talk.”
Making a face, Garrett grumbled, “Well, I don’t want to use it around you, okay?” Louie poked his head in between them then strolled in as if he owned the place. He wound around Shohn’s legs before doing the same to Nadine.
Dismissing her brother, Amber turned back to Shohn and Nadine and announced without apology, “I sort of manipulated you here.”
“And I did my part to keep you here,” Garrett said. “So Shohn, get that blood out of your eyes. No reason to come after me because I wasn’t going after her.” He nodded at Nadine. “Amber clued me in before she got here this morning.”
“See,” Amber said. “Am I your favorite cousin or what?”
After confessing their conspiracy, Amber and Garrett waited as if expecting accolades. Shohn stared at them both, almost heaving with restraint. “Get out.”
Amber saluted him as she turned to leave the gazebo. Garrett winked.
When they were alone again, Nadine found a seat and dropped into it. She didn’t look at him, choosing instead to pet Louie.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t know what they were doing.”
God, she was beautiful. And sweet. And sexy.
Shohn took a seat beside her. “Everyone knows I have a buttinsky family.”
“You have a lovely family—when they aren’t meddling.”
He grinned, remembering the first time she’d said that. “If you don’t mind, I’d really like to tell them.” The cat meowed, and Shohn picked him up. “And Louie, too. He’s part of the deal.”
“Tell them…what?”
He brushed a finger over her jaw, bent and kissed her lightly. “That I love you.”
When Nadine sat there, glassy-eyed and looking somewhat shocked, he said, “Well? What do you say? Can I let my family—or for that matter, all of Buckhorn, even—know that you’re mine?” And just to convince her, he added, “It’ll be safer for Garrett that way.”
“Garrett could never be any real competition for you.”
Shohn couldn’t wait to tell his cousin that. “If you think so, then you must love me, too?”
She launched off her seat to land in his lap, laughing a little, crying some, too. “Yes, I love you, Shohn. So much! I’ve loved you since we were kids.”
Louie complained at being squished between them. He wiggled free with a protesting “Meowrrrr” and crawled up and over Shohn’s shoulder, where he draped himself in lazy splendor.
“I’ve lusted after you since I was a kid.” Shohn tipped up her chin. “I might’ve been slow then, not realizing that it was everything about you that drew me, not just your awesome bod. But now as a man, you can count on me loving you for the rest of my life.”
Nadine hugged him tight. “I guess good things come to those who wait.” And under her breath, she muttered, “Take that, pride.”
Shohn started to ask her what she meant, but then she kissed him, and he forgot about it. Life was good in Buckhorn County.
Given the excited way his family chatted in the yard, they agreed.
*
Look for Lori Foster’s next sizzling book,
CLOSE CONTACT,
from HQN Books.
For the men of the Body Armor security agency, the only thing more dangerous than the job they do is the risk of losing their hearts.
Read on for an exclusive sneak peek…
Miles Dartman rode the private elevator in the Body Armor agency to his boss’s very upscale office. The early morning summons left him confused and he didn’t like it. He’d been in the shower when she’d called at seven A.M. Her message said only that he was to get there as quickly as possible. She had a surprise for him.
Of course, he’d called her back, but she’d told him she’d explain everything once he made it to the office.
He’d only finished his extensive training a f
ew weeks ago. So far he’d had two cases, both of them pretty routine. He’d helped to control pushy fans at a sporting event for a baseball player during a PR stint, and then escorted a big-time author with a new movie deal to some local signings around the area.
Easy-peasy.
He missed competing, damn it. Missed the cage and the physical exertion. If fate hadn’t played him a dirty hand, he’d be at it still, fighting his way to a championship belt.
The loss of his MMA fight career was only one of many regrets he’d suffered lately, and as usual, he shoved it from his mind, determined to live in the here and now.
The elevator opened and he stepped out, going straight to Sahara Silver’s posh office. As he passed Enoch Walker, Sahara’s personal assistant, he said, “She’s expecting me.”
“Indeed, she is,” Enoch said without looking up from his PC screen. “Go right on in.”
Did he detect an unusual note in Enoch’s comment? Hard to tell when Enoch stayed focused on his task.
Because the door was closed, Miles knocked, and a mere second later it opened, almost as if Sahara had been waiting for him.
Oozing satisfaction, she smiled. “Miles.”
He paused, suddenly on guard. So far, his boss had been something of an enigma. On the outside, she was a real looker, a shapely five-foot, eight inches of sass with glossy, mink-brown hair, direct blue eyes, and the demeanor of an Amazon. On the inside, she probably wrestled alligators and won. Always polished, always in killer heels, and always sporting attitude.
“That’s a different smile for you,” he noted. “Why do I feel like I’m about to be offered as a sacrifice to angry gods?”
The smile widened, then she stepped back to allow him to enter. “Thank you for getting here so quickly.”
“You didn’t leave me much choice with that cryptic message.”
“I am never cryptic.”
“No? Then what was so urgent that I-” That’s when Miles saw her. His eyes flared as he noted her huddled position in a padded chair, a steaming cup of coffee held in both hands. “Maxi?”
When he said her name, she straightened but didn’t look at him.
“What are you doing here?” For two months, he’d waited for her, hoping she’d get in touch again.
She hadn’t.
From the start, she’d made it clear that he was a convenient booty call and nothing more. That should have worked great for him, but instead, it had driven him nuts.
He’d finally, well almost, put her out of his mind with the job switch and move to a new apartment. Now here she was, at Body Armor of all places.
A slow burn started, making him blind to Sahara standing close, at least until she said, “Your friend has had something of an ordeal.”
“And she came to me?” Umbrage churned, made sharper by other losses at the same time. He fashioned a sarcastic grin. “Surprising, since she walked away without a goodbye.”
Maxi looked at him then. Those dark eyes he’d always found so mesmerizing were now glazed and somehow troubled.
And they stared at him like a lifeline.
It dawned on him that she looked terrible when he hadn’t thought that possible. One of the very few things she’d ever revealed to him was her occupation as a personal stylist, a job that seemed to suit her since the lady had always looked very put together.
Not this time, though. Dried leaves clung to her long, tangled blond hair. Gone were the trendy clothes and instead she wore an oversized flannel shirt, faded cut-offs and bright green rubber boots dotted with yellow ducks. The ridiculous outfit made her look endearing.
Concern sharpened his tone. “What the hell happened to you?”
When she didn’t answer, he went to one knee in front of her, resting his hands on her slim thighs. A few months ago they’d been in a similar position, both naked. But she hadn’t looked wounded then. No, she’d been soft and hot, moaning his name.
Blocking that memory seemed imperative. His tone didn’t lose its edge. “Maxi?”
Pale, slender fingers curled around the cup of steaming coffee. She swallowed audibly, met his gaze again, and muttered, “I’m not sure.”
“What does that mean?”
Sahara strolled up behind him. “Sometime before dawn, Ms. Nevar woke up in her yard, feeling very sick and with no memory of how she got there.”
Miles looked back at Sahara, his voice stern with surprise. “What are you talking about?”
“She was a fair distance from her farmhouse but made it to the back porch. Needless to say, she wasn’t keen on going back inside, what with not knowing what might await her. The house was dark and her property is isolated with no close neighbors.”
Miles sat back on his heels in disbelief. He didn’t know jack shit about her property, but he put that aside for the moment. “Drunk?” He hadn’t figured Maxi for a big drinker, but then, what did he really know about her—except that, for a time, she’d enjoyed using him for sex?
As if to convince him, Maxi stared into his eyes. “I’d only had one glass of wine. At least, that’s all I can remember.”
All she remembered? “Could you have drunk enough to black out?”
She took that like a physical hit, flinching away from him and making him feel like an asshole.
Brisk now, Sahara said, “Despite being disoriented, she had the forethought, and guts I might add, to enter the unlit house to get her purse, car keys and those adorable boots.”
Adorable? They belonged on a ten-year-old, not a grown woman.
“Staying there was out of the question, and she wasn’t sure where else to go.” Sahara propped a hip on the desk. “Since she remembered that you work here, this is where she came.”
So she finally had a use for him again? No, he wouldn’t be that easy, not this time. But he had questions, a million of them.
Looking back at his boss, Miles said, “Give us a minute, will you?”
She smiled down at him. “Not on your life.”
He recognized that inflexible expression well enough. Sahara Silver did what she wanted, when she wanted. The lady was born to be a boss. In medieval times, she probably would have carried a whip. Still, he tried. “If she’s here to see me—”
“She’s here to hire you.”
Hire him? He turned back to Maxi and got her timid nod. Skeptical, he clarified, “As a bodyguard?”
“Yes.”
Since when did a woman need to be protected from a hangover? Did he want to be involved with that?
Now that he worked at the Body Armor agency, did he have a choice?
Sahara ruled with a small iron fist and she, at least, seemed taken in by Maxi’s farfetched tale. If Sahara took the contract, he might not have much say in it.
And who was he kidding? Much as he’d like to deny it, territorial tendencies had sparked back to life the second he saw Maxi again. In his gut, he knew he was happy—even relieved—to again have her within reach.
Maybe because she was the one who got away, or the one who hadn’t been all that hung up on him in the first place…
Don’t miss
CLOSE CONTACT
by New York Times bestselling author Lori Foster!
Copyright © 2017 by Lori Foster
Ready or not…love will find a way
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Under Pressure
Hard Justice
Close Contact
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No Limits
Holding Strong
Tough Love
Fighting Dirty
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ISBN-13: 9781488032912
Shohn by Lori Foster
First published as BUCKHORN EVER AFTER by Harlequin HQN in 2013
This edition published in 2017
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All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
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