by Lesley Jones
Then I see stars as pain explodes in the side of my head. I move to get myself between Gracie and Barnes, who I fucking knew would clock me on the sly.
Only Gracie’s not there.
She’s on the ground.
Straddling Logan Barnes’ chest.
It looks like she’s trying to beat him to within an inch of his life. She’s punching with her good hand and swinging the bag containing the compression bandage, seven flavours of lip shit, and painkillers at his head.
“You fucker, what kind of man does that? You don’t fucking hit someone when they’re not looking!”
A crowd has gathered, and I hear someone say, “Barnes been getting inappropriate with the ladies again?”
“More than likely. I heard that last week he was at the deli counter of Jackson’s Fine Foods and rubbed himself against Stephanie from the hair salon. She clocked him one, too.”
I should intervene, but Gracie seems to be doing okay, and one more blow will only hurt his pride and not much else. She’s dangerous when it comes to a knee to the balls, but her fists are tiny and don’t carry much force, especially her left.
After a few seconds of enjoying the show—and trying not to get a hard-on—I hear a siren and step in.
“Easy there, Essex.” My jaw hurts as I speak, and I accidentally on purpose step on Barnes’s fingers as I scoop Gracie off his chest.
He gives out a yelp, so I grind my boots down for good measure. This time he screams just as I hear something crack. I smile down at him.
“Won’t forget this, you fucking coward. Your time will come, Barnes. You best watch yourself while I’m in town.”
“Fuck you, Carmichael. Glad to see your taste in women hasn’t changed. Still picking up the crazy bitches I—umph.”
Gracie has swung her leg back and landed a kick right between his legs.
Barnes’s eyes bulge out of their sockets, and his face turns purple and then grey as the colour drains out of it.
I pull her back to my front, not giving a fuck if she can feel how hard her jumping to my defence has me. I keep her arms pinned to her sides and hold her tight.
“You doing okay there, little-bit?” I whisper into her ear.
“Fuck me, Koa, is everyone you know in this town a nutcase?”
I give a little chuckle, not just at her words but at that accent, too. I love it and can’t help grinding myself against her.
“That was so fucking hot to watch, Essex. You got me all riled up in the diner when you gave it to Misty, but watching you lay Barnes out? I’m about ready to come in my pants like a fourteen-year-old.”
“Don’t let me stop ya, Cowboy.” She moves her own hips and grinds back.
“Goddammit, Carmichael, again?” Sheriff Nelson steps through the growing crowd, many of whom have their mobile phones out and are, once again, recording another episode of the Gracie and Koa show.
I let go of Gracie and raise my hands in a show of innocence and surrender.
“Not me, Nelson, I’m the victim here.”
“Like fuck you are.”
Barnes still looks devoid of colour but has somehow managed to stand himself upright without the help of anyone from our gathering crowd.
“Sheriff Nelson, these two have both physically and verbally assaulted me, and I’d like to press charges against the pair of them. Especially Carmichael, who was the instigator of the whole attack.”
“Fuck off, dickhead. You punched him upside the head when he wasn’t even looking.”
“Lady’s right, that’s what I saw happen,” an older guy with a huge moustache standing in the crowd calls out. I recognise him as the father of one of my electricians and tilt my head in acknowledgement and thanks.
“Ms Elliott, we meet again.”
“All right, Sheriff. Sorry about all this,” Gracie greets Nelson.
“So, would one of you mind explaining what happened here?”
We all start to talk at once, and a few members of our audience even join in.
GRACIE
“ YOU COULD’VE WARNED ME HE was a perv.”
I stare out of the window of Koa’s truck, mesmerised by the white landscape and falling snow.
“I did. I said he was a douche, a sleazeball, and a slimy motherfucker.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“What the fuck else could I have said to make you not accept his dinner invitation?”
“Oh, I don’t know, how about something along the lines of, ‘I know this bloke, Gracie, he has a terrible reputation for touching women inappropriately and is a total pervert.’ Instead of”—I alter my voice and attempt to sound like him— “no, he’s not sweet, and no, you’re not fucking going out with him.”
My American accent is terrible, but I’ll never admit that.
“What was that? Was that supposed to be me? I sound nothing like that...that was...wrong. Fucking wrong.”
“That’s exactly how you sound.”
We’ve just left the grocery store. After twenty minutes of debating in the freezing cold on the pavement outside the phone shop, Sheriff Nelson let us all go with a warning to stay away from each other and out of trouble.
Fine by me.
I had no intention of actually going out with Logan Barnes. I just had the feeling that Koa didn’t like him, and when he put his arm around me and got all territorial and possessive, I couldn’t resist fucking with him.
It’s not that Logan isn’t good-looking, he is. In that Swiss ski instructor kind of way. His hair was very blond, his skin very tanned, his eyes very blue, and his teeth over-the-top white. He looked exactly like what Koa described him as, a slimy fucking sleazeball. I’m not an idiot, I knew from the get-go all he had on his pervy, ski instructor mind was ‘snow ploughing’ me.
Still, I didn’t expect things to end up that extreme, with punches being thrown and the police turning up. Again.
“Well, at least I don’t go around asking everyone if they’re all right, what the fuck is that all about?”
“What?”
I finally pull my gaze from the falling snow and look at Koa as he drives.
“‘All right, Logan, I’m Gracie.’” His bad English accent has improved somewhat, but his attempt at mimicking me is still shit.
“Oh, well done, you, you’ve evolved from Bert the chimney sweep to Oliver fucking Twist. Cor blimey, govna, you got a shillin’ to spare?”
“Thank you.”
“It wasn’t a compliment.”
We both fall silent again. He stares at the road, I stare at him.
He had a boner earlier.
Why that thought just randomly popped into my brain, I don’t know, but there it is.
My cheeks burn, and it’s not just because I’ve spent part of the day standing around in Arctic conditions.
Not only did he tell me he was turned on when I lamped Logan, but he also made sure I felt it. All of it. I’d wondered if the size ratio of his body was equal, and I was delighted to note that Koa was perfectly proportioned. Ecstatic, in fact.
This knowledge made shopping in the supermarket a little uncomfortable.
Koa kept walking off in front of me, offering a bird’s eye view of his magnificent arse.
It was almost like a shelf, each cheek high and round. Perfectly defined and separated by the seam of his jeans. I spend most of the time wondering if he had those hollows on either side, right at the top of those thick thighs of his.
The thought of them had me gripping the shopping trolley and hoping he didn’t notice I was walking awkwardly just to gain some friction from the seam of my jeans.
Every aisle we walked down, Koa turned heads. He got second and third glances from not only women but men, too. He even got asked for his autograph and posed for photos three times.
I sort of felt proud. Of what, I didn’t know. We’d been thrown together by chance and there I was, wandering around a supermarket with him, enjoying looking at his arse. He wasn’t mine by a
ny stretch of the imagination. What I was absolutely certain of though, is that you didn’t get a view like that at ASDA!
The thought of him being turned on by anything about me had my belly carrying out a back pike, into a handstand, finishing with a cartwheel, my vagina then giving a squeeze and a curtsy in recognition of my belly’s outstanding performance.
I wasn’t usually the kind of girl who slept with someone after knowing them only a short while; I’d been in a committed five-year relationship with Reggie. We were together about four weeks before we’d had sex, and before him, I’d always followed the three-date rule. I’d never had a one-night stand. And yet, there I was, getting horny, hot, and flustered over Koa Carmichael. A man I’d known only three days.
Nothing could actually come—no pun intended—of these thoughts, because, well, what happened after the fucking? If we were both going to continue living in the cabin, then we had to keep things platonic.
“I didn’t get to finish asking you earlier.”
I turn to him, confused. “About what?”
“Helping me fix up the cabin.”
I’d forgotten all about the conversation we’d started to have earlier about me helping him with the cabin’s interiors. My nosy self had sent the conversation off on a tangent, and we’d ended up discussing his ex-wives and his daughter instead.
“Ah, that. I’ll help if I can, but you don’t have to make my stay free. I already paid in full, well in advance of my arrival. Anyway, it’ll be good to get creative.”
He looks my way and opens his mouth as if to say something and then stops and returns his focus to the road ahead.
“I have Malia, my daughter, next weekend, but I’ll go back to Aspen and stay there. Kai will get here in a couple of weeks. He arrives on the Wednesday before Thanksgiving and will stay the weekend, I’ll also have my daughter back again then, too, and would like to have their rooms ready, if it’s possible?.”
I knew that his son was coming, I’d heard him on the phone.
“It’s Saturday now, Cowboy, that gives us less than three weeks.”
He sends another quick glance my way before looking back at the road.
“I have a couple of the boys that work for me coming along to help first thing Monday morning. They’ll get rid of all the old furniture and then paint, but I need new stuff to replace it with.”
“Why don’t you just get the stuff from your house in Aspen?”
“Because I haven’t decided what I’m gonna do yet. Live at the cabin or just keep it as a getaway.”
“Fair enough. I’m not sure how you think you’re gonna get furniture delivered at such short notice, though.”
He smiles an insanely sexy smile and gives me a wink. “I’m Koa Carmichael, Essex. That’s how.”
Oh, be still, my fluttering fanny.
EVEN THOUGH MY ARM IS in the compression bandage, I help Koa cook dinner. Tonight is pork chops, I opt for just a salad as an accompaniment, but Koa once again has a baked potato.
The mood is relaxed, helped by the wine we bought in town, and the conversation flows. We finish one bottle at the table, and then I open another while Koa switches to beer when we move to the living room. We talk about everything and nothing. Our lives, loves, hopes, and dreams. We talk about our favourite films, shows, and music.
I sit curled at one end of the sofa and Koa sat the other, his long legs stretch out and rest on the coffee table.
The telly isn’t on tonight, so the only noise is from our conversation and the occasional spit and crackle that comes from the fire.
I’m searching for bedroom furniture online from my phone when Koa asks, “So, what went wrong with the guy you were dating?”
“Nothing really went wrong. We were a bit more than dating. We’d been together for five years and living together for over three of those.”
“Okay, what was it then? Why’d it end?”
He stares into the fire as he asks, so I do the same as I form an answer in my head.
“I thought he was the one. I thought that after three years of living together I was ready to make it permanent. Get married, start a family.”
“He didn’t?”
“Neither of us did in the end. I mean, I did, and I sort of gave him an ultimatum. It’s me or the job kind of thing.”
I take a sip of my wine. It’s a Californian cab sav and going down like an Essex girl after, well, after a few wines.
I’m not drunk, just nicely chilled and a little bit wordy.
“We’ve both worked really hard at our jobs the past few years. Reggie’s in international finance and was recently made a partner at his company; all of my time has been spent building my business, my followers, and marketing.”
I pause and watch his throat move as he swigs from his beer bottle.
“I don’t know why, but I’ve always wanted to come to Colorado, so earlier this year, I started making plans to spend six months here. Reggie, my boyfriend, obviously couldn’t take a six-month break from work, but he had enough holiday to stay for five weeks, so I booked the flights.”
“He cancelled?” His eyes land on mine.
I nod. Not feeling even remotely upset. This is how I know for sure that I’ve made the right decision about Reggie.
I think I so desperately wanted him to be the one that I convinced myself for a while that he actually was. Now, I wasn’t so sure he ever had been.
“About eight weeks ago, he told me he couldn’t take time off. Said that we could come for Christmas, but we’d have to be back for New Year. That was when I gave him the ultimatum.”
“He chose his job? Overspending time with you?”
I nod again. “He did, and you know what? At first, I thought my heart was breaking, and it did. But it wasn’t for the right reasons. It broke because we had an excellent life together. We both had good jobs, we took incredible holidays, and we lived in a fantastic home. On paper, we should’ve been perfect, and we just weren’t. My heart broke because it made me realise that you can have all of the materialistic things in the world, but they won’t buy you love or contentment, they won’t change how you feel inside about someone, at least they shouldn’t. In the end, I was relieved. Him cancelling on me just gave me the push I needed to finish things.”
“How did that go? I suppose when you’re living together, it’s much the same as divorce. Dividing all your shit up. Can you get a prenup if you’re living together but not married?”
I laugh. “I don’t know, but prenups are not really a thing in England unless you’re very wealthy. And anyway, we’ve not actually even started dealing with any of that shit yet.”
“Dividing your stuff?”
“Yeah. Reggie moved into the spare room, and we just carried on living together but separately. I knew that I was still coming here, so it seemed pointless looking for somewhere else for such a short time.”
“Wasn’t that awkward. I’m guessing neither of you had started seeing other people?”
“We rarely saw each other, so it wasn’t too awkward, and yeah, I’m pretty sure he’s seeing someone else already.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah, it hurt at first and my heart and brain went through the entire grieving process over one weekend, but then I was all right with it. He and I are done. I don’t want him, so what’s stopping him from moving on? He can go find someone to drive fast cars and jet off on exotic holidays with. It leaves me free to find the real man of my dreams, settle down, and give him babies.”
He looks away quickly and then back at me.
“That’s what you want? The whole white picket fence and two point four kids?”
I give another laugh.
“Where I come from, Cowboy, white picket fences would get nicked, graffitied, or pulled up so the local kids could beat each other with them. And no, not just two point four kids. I’ve always wanted four or five.”
His eyes widen.
“Yeah, you say that now, Essex, just wait till y
ou have one or two. You’ll change your mind real fast.”
“Well, it’s yet to happen, and I need to find a man first anyway.”
“I’m sure there’ll be no shortage of volunteers.”
“Yeah, and I bet every other one of them is another Logan Barnes.”
“Jesus, don’t say that piece of shit’s name in my home.”
“Sorry.”
“We took care of him, though, didn’t we, Essex?”
He gives me the sexiest sideways smile in the history of sideways smiling, and my clit develops a pulse strong enough to keep an elephant alive.
“I took care of him, Cowboy. I don’t remember you doing much except standing there watching.”
“It was fucking hot. My blood all went rushing to my dick, and I couldn’t think straight.”
My face burns at his admission, but I’m not embarrassed. I’m turned the fuck on.
“I know,” I say very softly. “I felt it.”
“Yeah?” he asks, equally as soft. “Did it feel good?”
My fanny flutters have turned into full on clit quivers, and I fight not to physically shudder.
“Koa.” I try to use a warning tone, but my voice sounds breathy and more than just a little turned on.
“Answer the fucking question, Essex. Did. It. Feel. Good?”
The fire’s stacked with logs, the heat intense, and I have the faux fur blanket over my legs, as well as a cushion resting in my lap. Yet, still...still, goose bumps march up my spine, spread down my arms, and bloom across my chest.
My nipples pull tight and tingle. There’s no way he can be aware of this through what I’m wearing, but I want him to be. I have a great rack, and I want him to see it, but even more overpowering is the need I have for him to want to see me.
“Yes.” I give him my honest answer.
“How good.”
“The best.”
He closes his eyes and swallows. Involuntary, Kegels kick in, and my mouth falls open as a groan attempts to escape.
“You turned on right now, Essex?”
I nod, it’s all I have.
“Me, too. I’ve been hard ever since I tackled you to my driveway.”