by Sosie Frost
I didn’t know if he wanted to move the vehicle or me, but I’d take him for a ride anywhere he wanted to go.
But this man didn’t look the least bit ashamed of what he’d done. He glanced at the truck, the spot, and the proximity to the nearest buildings. Wasn’t like Butterpond had an expansive commercial district. We had the tailor, the market, the hardware store, and a park that was temporarily closed while I dealt with a few animal control issues in the shape of some moderately aggressive geese. The usual for Butterpond.
I gave him a little shrug. “Shouldn’t you…” I pointed to a nearby space. “You know…”
“Shouldn’t I…?”
Was this a man who followed orders or issued the commands? Either way, he made the conversation difficult. The dark promise of his voice swirled a naughty heat in my tummy.
I squirmed, captured by my own smile and desperate to earn his. He offered me nothing else, preferring to watch as I nibbled on my fingernail. I gave a little suckle of my dark finger and shuddered with a quiet giggle.
“Will you switch spots?” I asked. “Because…”
The man’s smirk was casual, almost patronizing. He appraised the fluorescent orange of my bridesmaid’s dress. Somewhere beneath the tulle, petticoats, and lace, he might have imagined tying a couple knots of his own.
“I don’t think I want to go anywhere, sweetness.” His voice lowered. “Not unless you’re coming with me. You expecting the rest of the bridal party anytime soon?”
Oh, he was dangerous. Sexy, charming, and a bit of a renegade if his parking preferences were any indication. I hid my embarrassment with a quick brush over my hair. The two twin puffballs were still tethered to my head by virtue of a couple bobby pins on each side. The pigtails were cute. He must have thought so too. His gaze lingered over the puffs.
Trying to figure me out? Well, that would be easy—especially over a candlelight dinner.
“I think I have a little time,” I said. “The bride is still wrestling with the five pounds she’s gained since the last fitting.”
I nearly pointed to the shop, though I caught myself as Ambrose pranced up the sidewalk, tossing my bra into the air before tearing at it with a vicious shake of his head.
He could keep the damn thing.
My heart gave a little flutter, much preferable to the enraged pounding when I’d chased Ambrose across Main Street. I gave the man a quick shrug.
“Looks like it’s just us, stranger,” I said. “Well, us and your truck.”
He agreed with the devilish wink. “Looks that way.”
“So…are you going to move?”
His laugh was a rumbling tease. “I’d move Heaven and earth for you, sweetness.”
I giggled. “I meant your truck. From the handicapped spot.”
I hadn’t expected his amusement. He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll be quick.”
“Quick?”
He reassured me with a grin. “Don’t worry. I’m not often quick.”
I hummed. “Not exactly what I meant.”
“I’d be happy to demonstrate.”
Oh, he was most definitely trouble.
I wagged a finger. “No need. I’m a very trusting person.”
“Obviously, or you wouldn’t be talking to me.” The gruff challenge of his voice tickled deep in my belly.
“I’m also a brave woman.”
“Don’t lie,” he said. “You’re very foolish little girl.”
I arched an eyebrow. “That so?”
“Very risky to harass me about how I parked my truck.”
I could handle myself. “I’m not harassing you. I’m just doing my job.”
“And what’s that?”
I winked. “I have multiple talents. One is a perplexing ability to always locate magnetic north. The other is an unwavering enforcement of right and wrong within this community.” I tapped the truck. “So why don’t we move this out of the handicapped spot, and I’ll point us towards Butterpond’s northernmost café. You can buy me a cup of coffee, and I can tell you all about my other, more interesting abilities.”
“There’s no good coffee in Butterpond,” he said. “Unless you count the swill they serve up at Ruby’s station. Couldn’t even pay me to drink that when I was overseas. We made better coffee out of sand.”
Huh. He knew his way around Butterpond.
I crossed my arms, studying his face again. I didn’t recognize him, but he spoke about the town as if he’d been here before.
Strange.
I shrugged. “Coffee is like sex. Is it ever really that bad?”
“I wouldn’t know. Never had bad sex.”
That I believed. “Little cocky, aren’t you?”
“Don’t let your eyes deceive you, sweetness. This body’s not for making war.”
“Making love then?”
He laughed, a dark and tantalizing rumble. “Never made love either. Life’s too short to take it slow, don’t you think?”
I hummed. “Starting to believe it.”
“Tell you what, sweetness. Let’s skip Ruby’s. Take a ride with me, and I’ll make sure you get plenty of good coffee in the morning.”
Damn. That wasn’t just a proposition. It was an invitation.
And I had no idea what to say do it.
A man like that—a man that strong, gorgeous, and utterly wild? Was he military or just a warrior? He offered more than a little reconnaissance. Hell, he’d be a damn siege.
I could flirt with the best of them, but I had no idea what to expect from a stranger like him. How to handle myself. What to do.
Retreat was one option, but part of me wanted to get down and dirty in the trenches.
“Sounds good,” I winked. “I gotta finish up with the dress fitting, but afterwards…”
“Don’t bother getting dressed.”
Oh, this man was bad. “Tell you what. You move the truck. I’ll forget the underwear.”
Easy enough to do when my dog still had my bra.
He glanced up the street. Searched the empty sidewalks. He wouldn’t find many people. The residents of Butterpond had all received the same warning. They avoided the town center while I struggled to manage the goose situation.
He shrugged. “I think the truck is fine right where it is.”
He was sexy, and he already knew how to push my buttons. It wasn’t so much the refusal to move the truck, it was his tone. Callous. Righteous.
As if he dared me to argue.
Well, at least I’d have a good story to tell our grandchildren—the time when grandma hauled off and hit grandpa for being such a stubborn jackass.
Unfortunately for him, I’d had a long day. It was a struggle between my dog, the petticoats, and the front-row seat to the disaster that would be my father’s wedding. The frustrations culminated into this exact moment, coupled by a rather urgent need to use the bathroom. I had to take a stand on something.
And I chose the handicapped spot.
I planted my feet. “You’re really not going to move your truck?”
“Are you really going to make me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s the right thing to do,” I said. “This is Butterpond. This is a community. People care here. Lives matter. Handicap parking is sacrosanct.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“We reserve them only for the elderly, infirm, and those who really need to pee.”
I couldn’t tell if he was amused or annoyed, but his eyes narrowed. “So, sweetness. What are you gonna do?”
I didn’t want to do it. He was handsome. He was confident. I was certain he would be the best sex I’d ever have. But he was wrong. And no matter how attractive, suave, or utterly dashing he was, polite society dictated that I needed to preserve Butterpond’s natural order.
Which meant I needed to lie. But it was for a good cause.
I’d only grabbed the essentials when I’d chased after Ambrose. In
this case, I’d packed my badge.
I retrieve the wallet from my dress, flashed the silver, and allowed the brief glint of metal to intimidate my handsome stranger.
“If you really want to play this game, we’ll take it downtown,” I said.
My threat was as ineffective as it was truthful. The downtown was currently overrun with Canadian geese, and Sheriff Samson had made it perfectly clear he would not respond to any minor problems or traffic violations until he could safely walk from his car to his office without a barrage of feathers, web feet, and aggressive, breeding waterfowl.
The badge should have intimidated him. Hell, it would have intimidated me. Then again, I was rarely on the opposite end of the law. The only time I’d ever seen the inside of a jail cell was when I had to bail Ambrose out. Twice. My dog liked shiny things. Had he not been a herder of geese, he would have made an excellent cat burglar—seemed a genuine conflict of interest for a border collie.
My obstinate, future lover wasn’t amused. He stared at me, a sort of deliberate, intense gaze that might have looked death in the eye once or twice in the past. But I had the law on my side…which was good as I had very little dignity remaining.
I crossed my arms if only to ensure the dress stayed miraculously wrapped around my torso. My kingdom for some double-sided tape.
“Is that supposed to impress me?” he asked.
“Just move the truck.”
I meant to return my badge safely to my dress, but he grabbed it before I could hide the wallet.
I leapt into the air, but he held the badge over my head. His eyebrows rose as he read the lettering.
Damn it.
“What the hell are the Geese Police?” he asked.
I’d often fielded that particular question, but my responsible and prompt service usually alleviated any concerns. I attempted to swipe the badge once more. No dice.
“You can’t make me do anything,” he said. “You only have authority over geese.”
I huffed. “That’s not what it means. Please, give my badge back.”
“Or what? You’ll send the pond after me?”
I never thought falling in love would be so aggravating. “That’s my business. The geese police are a valued organization in this community.”
“No shit?” He snorted. “What the hell do you do?”
“I humanely heard geese away from public spaces.”
“No, really.” He snickered. “What do you do?”
He was less Prince Charming and more of a pain in my ass. “I just told you. I have a company. My dog and I are hired to rid commercial and private spaces of any migratory geese which may cause a public nuisance.”
I didn’t appreciate the laughter. But he didn’t need to lean against his truck, slap the side, and stomp his foot.
“You’re not a real cop,” he said.
I set my jaw. “And you’re not actually handicapped.”
He frowned.
And something told me I’d just stepped over a line.
It was one of those moments when time stood still, the ground opened under me, and I didn’t have the benefit of Cupid’s arrow to stop my heart. He didn’t take his eyes from me. Just slowly reached down, gripped his pant leg, and lifted.
A gleam of white greeted me. A solid, plastic prosthetic leg.
I’d fucked up before, but usually my worst screw ups were resolved with a quick trip to the hospital for a rabies shot. This time? I didn’t think they made a vaccination for stupidity.
And I was now the biggest idiot in Butterpond.
My handsome stranger?
Marius freaking Payne.
The Marius Payne.
The Navy SEAL. The Navy SEAL who’d just returned home. The Navy SEAL who had nearly lost his life in a firefight.
His return was the only gossip in Butterpond which could compete with the scandalous, salacious tale of my father marrying his college intern.
I’d just insulted a wounded veteran.
So much for that coffee.
“Marius?” Now would have been the perfect time for the dress and petticoat to swallow me whole. “Marius…I had no idea it was you.”
His eyebrow arched. “Are you always this kind to strangers?”
“Seriously. I didn’t mean to insult you. Or your parking.”
Or the leg he’d lost overseas.
He crossed his arms. “No. It’s fine. I thought maybe this time I could park in the handicap spot without anyone noticing.”
Shoot. I gestured towards the truck. “It’s fine. Take it. You totally earned it. Or, at least your leg did.” Why was I still talking? “Losing your leg earned you the spot.”
His voice bled arrogance. “You’re right. That spot should be saved for other people in this town.”
“No. I’m wrong. I’m very, very wrong.”
He ignored me. “I’m gonna let you in on a little secret. My leg was hurting today.”
Oh God. “Marius, I’m—”
“And I thought maybe, just maybe this once…I’d take the easy way out.”
My humiliation turned to mortification. Marius didn’t seem to mind. His tone roughened, mostly a tease with a hint of accusation. His shrug was anything but friendly.
“I was in a hurry today,” he said. “I didn’t think anyone would see me take the spot. Figured I’d get in and out without any questions. Without any judgment.”
“I’m not judging you. I promise.”
“Don’t apologize. The geese police are well within their rights to inspect every handicap spot in Butterpond.”
I grimaced. “It’s not actually part of my job description.”
His smile turned cold. Sexy as hell, but just as condescending as if he had patted me on the head. “I can’t imagine a better use of your time.”
I could. It involved downing another mimosa, spending my last hour with Chloe and her ragtag band of sorority sisters, and escaping the dress fitting before they giggled about more parts of my father’s anatomy. Afterwards, I’d imagined spending a wild and regretless night tangled in Marius’s arms.
I should have offered him my number and panties when I had the chance.
I sweetened my tone. “I really am sorry.”
Marius chose not to accept my apology, and he did so with the cock of his head and a flex of his arms.
“I should be thanking you.” He actually winked at me while his words twisted with irritation. “Hell, it’s only an extra ten feet to walk. When I lost my leg, I crawled through a half-mile of mud, blood, and shrapnel to find help. Ten feet is nothing.”
Was he serious? His tone had shifted. Hostile. Hollow. Then, just as quickly as he’d grunted, it was gone.
“No, sweetness. I gotta adjust to this leg sometime. What better way than walking through a parking lot and blistering what remains of my stump?”
He flinched at the word. So did I.
“Look.” I sighed. “I said I was sorry. I didn’t know it was you, and I wasn’t trying to insult you.” A quick insult sizzled through me. This wasn’t the greatest of seductions. “Will you please accept my apology?”
“Why?”
Now, I was really irritated. Served me right for chasing the first pretty face I saw.
“You know, the only reason you have a great butt is because you’re all asshole.”
“Uh-oh,” he laughed. “Geese police brutality.”
I frowned. “I don’t know how long you’ve been out of normal civilization, but when somebody is genuinely apologetic, accepting their apology is the right thing to do.”
Marius narrowed his eyes. “And accosting me in the middle of the parking lot? Is that the right thing to do?”
“It’s probably the only way a man like you would learn some manners.”
Marius stepped closer, edging me against his truck. His gaze hunted me, an undignified and wild scrutiny that should have humiliated me. No civilized man looked at a girl with such a brazen, unrelenting eagerness.
But I wasn’t intimidated. I squared my shoulders and puffed my chest, mostly to prevent the material from slipping over my curves and revealing more than my unfortunately timed sense of justice.
His smirk darkened his features. I shivered as he spoke.
“If this had been any other day, at any other time…” He leaned in close. “I’d fuck some politeness into you.”
I gritted my teeth. “And had this been any other day, at any other time, I would have let you do it.” No sense hiding the truth. He could probably read it in the tease my hips and bite of my lip. “But, since you can’t take a simple apology, I doubt you’d be satisfied with anything else.”
Marius chuckled. “On the contrary. I would be extremely satisfied.” He dared to reach for me, grazing a single finger over my bare arm. Goosebumps prickled me, summoned by the tiniest, softest hint of his hand. “And you’d be satisfied too.”
“You think awfully highly of yourself for a man who can’t even park his truck right,” I said. “Let’s just say, I’m not expecting you to be very straight.”
His eyebrow cocked. “You wanna find out?”
“If you can promise me a conversation as charming as this one.”
He crossed his arms. “Don’t plan on doing a lot of talking.”
“You’re a man of action then?”
“I don’t have a lot of practice on one leg. Wouldn’t mind testing it out.”
I snorted. “Seems like you lost the best part of you overseas. Did they amputate your tact too?”
Marius laughed. “What’s left is in working order. Care for a demonstration?”
I rolled my eyes. “Please. A man like you? With all that talk and swagger? You’d call in an airstrike and be gone by morning. I need boots on the ground, soldier.”
“Sailor.” He corrected me.
“What?”
“I’m Navy.”
I shrugged. “Then I need oars in the water, sailor.”
He liked this game. Unfortunately, so did I. He edged a little closer, nudging my chin up to meet his gaze.
A girl could eventually find her way out of those eyes, but a smart one would pretend to get lost just to stick around for a little longer.