Broken in Love (Studs in Stetsons Book 2)

by Megan Hetherington

  “Sure.” I flick the pan, holding on to a smile when the pancake flips perfectly. “Had a few days owing.”

  I catch her broad smile and I’m glad I pulled in the favor from Ledowski. I can’t let go of Lemon. Not yet.

  “I dunno? What would you do if I wasn’t here?”

  I tip the last pancake onto the stack and turn off the gas. “Probably work on the hide some more.”

  “Well, shall we do that?”

  I load up my hand and forearm with the breakfast items. “Don’t you wanna go somewhere?”

  With a finger on her chin, she twists her lips for a few seconds while she pretends to deliberate. “Not really.”

  She can’t fool me, it’s obvious she doesn’t want to socialize. I know she enjoyed the club the other night, but that’s because it’s her natural environment. A little low lighting and music she can get lost in. I sussed out a while back that she uses dancing as a coping mechanism. Everything else is too much right now.

  “There’s the rodeo at Mountain Park, if you didn’t want to hang ‘round here.”

  Her eyes widen, just ever so slightly, the fear in them evident. Yep, she doesn’t want to go anywhere just yet. Even the rodeo. And that’s fine by me. We’ll take it one step at a time.

  “But then I suppose we could go to the mid-week show. It’s usually less busy anyhow. You can get a decent spot then.”

  “Oh.” She’s semi-interested.

  “And if you came with me, we could get a Mountain Hotdog. Do you remember those?”

  She gasps and I know then that I’ve given her enough of a carrot to entice her to come with me on Wednesday. “Yaass. Bacon-wrapped and that salsa!” Her stomach growls loudly. “Oh, you’re making me so hungry with that vanilla pancake smell and all this talk of food.” She lowers her head to the counter edge, nudging out her ass in a sexy move. I dump the items I’m holding to sidle up behind her, nudging my nose into the side of her neck as her back arches into my chest. I rub my nose against the sensitive skin just behind her ear.

  “Carson, don’t. You know I can’t resist when you do that.” A low moan escapes from her throat, rumbling through her neck. My cock twitches in my boxer briefs, pressing up against the top of her ass. “Don’t you dare.” She gasps, swatting me away. “I’m so hungry right now.”

  “So am I.” I say, as I reluctantly pull away. “Come on.” I carry the stack of pancakes, two forks and a jar of syrup out to the deck. If I can’t have my preferred option for breakfast, then at least I can settle for my favorite view. It’s where I spend time after my early morning run, guzzling a protein shake and watching the ducks and geese flap around the lake, dipping their necks to snaffle a stickleback.

  We sit cross-legged on the deck, the plate between us, and rest against the legs of the chairs. We each grab a fork, digging greedily into the syrup-soaked pancakes.

  With every mouthful, Lemon hums her approval, so I slow down and let her have a decent share. I can always take extra sandwiches to the hide.

  I’ve already boated across to the other shore most of the materials I need to build the shell of the hide. It’s only my tools that I keep across here in my workshop.

  When she’s done with the pancakes and I’ve fucked her over the porch railing, we shower and dress.

  Lemon follows me to the dock in a pair of my basketball shorts and a tank top, which she has tied a knot at the front of. Her hair hangs loose in soft waves and she has no make-up on. All the stress and worries I’ve seen her carrying around previously have melted away and, combined with what she is wearing, she looks so relaxed and young again.

  We take the boat, this time laden with the kind of stuff you’d take on a camping trip. Blankets. Pillows. Food and beer.

  We reach the bank and I hop into the water, bridging the gap between the boat and the slippery bank. I lift her clear of the water to the shore.

  The view from this side is beautiful and for a moment Lemon stands with her hands on her hips staring over at my cabin. “Wow, this is awesome.”

  I haul the boat up the bank and set down the provisions on the sandy shore.

  “So, what’s first?” She ambles toward a stack of logs.

  “We’ll set up somewhere to rest and I’ll get my tools ready.” I’m not that bothered about making much headway on the cabin today. Relaxing with Lemon is the only thing I’m remotely interested in, but we can maybe do some light work before cracking open a couple of beers and laying out in the sun.

  She grabs hold of the blanket. “How about here?”

  I nod and she unfurls the rug, throwing it out over the ground. It’s part in the shade, which is sensible, and I set the cooler and pillows near the head of it.

  “So, what’s the plan?” She anchors her hands on her hips and looks around the space I’ve cleared.

  “This is where I see the main structure going. Nothing fancy, just a deck with a one room hut, maybe a mezzanine for sleeping on. Over there, an outhouse. And I’d thought I’d just keep it simple with a fire pit or similar for cooking and sittin’ around.”

  She pivots as I speak, taking in the landscape. “This is so cool, Carson. Though if I was a stalker, this is so where I’d camp out to spy on you. I’d get some of those binoculars that bird watchers have and zoom in on you.”

  I laugh. “Well fortunately, it’s pretty darn difficult to get here. In fact, I doubt hardly anyone knows of this cabin and lake. I certainly don’t advertise that this is where I live.”

  “No worries there then.” Her smile quivers a little.

  I hold out my hand and when her fingertips touch mine, I pull her into me. “You’re not worried about that attacker finding you, are you?”

  She curls her lips and scrunches her shoulders to her ears.

  “You do know it was very likely a random attack. Some drunk guy who thought he’d take a chance but didn’t know what a strong woman he was up against.”

  She melts into my arms and I squeeze her tight. “Thank you, Carson. I know it was random. But it unnerved me all the same.”

  “I promise you, you have nothing to worry about. The sheriff’s department will leave no stone unturned and if they can’t find him, it’s because he’s long gone and will never return.”

  “Uhuh.” She remains unconvinced.

  “Look, times have been tough just recently for you, but all that is behind you now. It’s my priority to make sure of that.” I plant a long, warm kiss on top of her head.

  She laughs a little. Probably at the use of that word, priority, again. “You are so sweet.”

  Here we go. Everything shrivels inside. I’m not sure she’s that into me. Not the way I am with her. The ‘nicer guy’ compliment yesterday was a real blow. I thought I’d fucked that nice guy image away with every time I’ve had her scream my name. I don’t want her to think of me as ‘nice’ or ‘sweet’. I sigh.

  “Mmm.” She nestles into my neck, her arms flung around my back.

  Honestly, I’m finding it hard to reconcile what we are to each other now. I thought it would be easy. The sex couldn’t be hotter. She drives me fucking crazy at all times. But the other side of it is even more intense. That friendship we started with throws me and it seems I just didn’t think it through.

  I’ve never had sex with a friend. Or become friends with someone I’ve had sex with. The two can’t be mutually exclusive, because that’s what most couples strive to achieve. But they get that over time, if ever. Us. We’ve leapt right in at the deep end. Picking up on the friendship from where we left off and adding in crazy hot sex. This should be perfect, but I get the feeling that Lemon isn’t as deep in this as me. Or is this just my paranoia seeping in? The fact I left this for so long has built it up into something I can’t now enjoy. For fear of losing it.

  Of course, there’s the other variations on what this is.

  Friends with benefits. Is that what we are? I guess most guys would see that as a major bonus. Be with the sexiest woman around these parts
with no ties. But for me, those ties came first. And as much as I want to fuck her senseless every time I’m near her, that’s not enough. I want it all. Every goddamn part of her. I want us to be together forever and all that dreamy movie and song lyric shit. I’ve always wanted that with Lemon. I’m convinced we are meant to be together, but I don’t know if I would ever recover if she dumps me or drifts away.

  And then there is the whole Blue issue. Am I just a rebound opportunity? She didn’t hesitate to drop me to follow him around school until a chance to snag him came up. Would she do the same again if the opportunity arose?

  I need to shake this off. “C’mon, let’s get to it.”

  We work up a sweat, cutting logs and laying down a base, in between fooling around. The idea in my mind for a bolt hole comes together nicely.

  “D’ya wanna take a break?”

  She nods eagerly, her face glowing with the heat and effort.

  “I need to cool off.” She pulls my shirt over her head and shimmies out of my shorts. “You coming?”

  Seeing her stood naked before me, it takes a few seconds for my brain to catch up with her words.

  “Sure.” I race to remove my clothes so I can leap with her into the lake.

  She screams as she bombs the surface of the water. “This is colder than I remember.” She gasps repeatedly and struggles to tread water, her chin only just clearing the surface.

  “Well you did say you wanted to cool off.” I grab on to her feet and swim backward, trailing her with me. “We need to be out of the shade.” I pull her clear of the dark water, in the shadow of branches from a willow tree. Suddenly, she shifts from my grip and swims at full pelt toward the center of the lake; I dive under and follow her. I can see her legs twist as she tries to work out where I’ve gone. I pass alongside and then pop up in front of her. She tries to turn but she’s too slow and I grab hold of a thigh. Her skin is silky in my grasp, her muscle yields to my grip. I rub my other hand up the outside of the opposite thigh and onto her waist.

  She rests her forehead on mine, her hair wet and smoothed down her shoulders, panting until she has her breathing under control. Then she pulls her head away from me and the droplets of water in between her eyelashes glisten in the sun.

  “Carson, I can’t believe how happy I am.” She blinks a few times.

  “Good, because you make me happy, too.”

  Something flashes across her eyes and it seems like that was the wrong thing to say. She didn’t mean I make her happy.

  She kisses away some of my paranoia, but a small portion stays alight deep where my insecurities live. The ones I usually overcome with determination. But is this one of those situations? Or should I react how I always have with Lemon? Not try to tame her free spirit and leave her to flit wherever she needs to. Because to harness her would be to kill her. And that’s the last thing on my mind.

  “You’re cold.” I pull her in tighter.

  “You could always warm me up.”

  “What, in here?” I ask, treading water while I assess by how much the cold water has shriveled my dick.

  She slides a hand from around my back and squeezes onto my balls and it seems her hand is warm and talented enough to have me semi-hard in an instant. Okay, so this is happening. There’s a first time for everything.

  She places her hands on my shoulders and levers on them to push up and then screw down on my dick, supported by my hands on her ass. She’s so warm and the contrast of switching from cold to warm is fucking amazing. I continue to tread water and she pushes away again, a rush of cold water surrounds me. The sensation is new and weirdly enjoyable. I get lost in it, focusing on the unusual feeling.

  My balls tighten but surrounded in cold water it doesn’t feel the same as usual and I’m not sure if I’m about to come or not.

  “Carson.” She pants, as she gains speed. Her fingernails dig into my shoulders, water splashes up around my ears.

  I’m lost in the motion, not able to control myself even if I could. I flip between shooting my load and concentrating on treading water so we don’t drown.

  “Carson,” she shouts, suddenly pushing up high and coming off my dick. I feel it pulse, but I’m still in shock at it all.

  “Fuck.” I gasp, still in the throes of emptying my ball sac. What the hell was that?

  She laughs. “That was kinda wild.” She has a hand under my armpit helping me stay afloat while I come to terms with which way is up. “I didn’t think you’d come like that.”

  Confused, I shake my head. Neither did I. It’s fortunate she knew what was happening, because I didn’t.

  Still in shock, we swim steadily back to shore and she gracefully exits like some Bond girl, squeezing the water out of her hair. I take a moment to watch the sensual sway of her hips and droplets of water snaking down her limbs. A vision I want to lock away and remember when she’s gone. Because that’s what I’ve convinced myself—she’s simply passing through.

  I flop onto the rug next to her, grabbing a couple of beers from the cooler on the way.

  She twists her top off and takes a good gulp, froth leaking down her chin. She laughs and mops at it with the back of her hand. “Seriously, Carson, I can’t believe you live here. All those times we would come here as kids, I never imagined I’d be here again.”

  I shrug, because I knew this is where I would end up. From the first time I ever came here as a police cadet to carry out my community chores. And that’s why I brought only her here, because I hoped it would be our place.

  “When was it I stopped coming here?”

  Her question catches me by surprise, and I pretend to consider the answer by taking a sip of my beer, all the while knowing the answer because it has been front and center in my mind ever since.

  “I suppose it was that summer I went to Gramp’s.”

  She frowns, probably trying to remember that period that’s etched in my heart. “I think I remember that summer. I spent the whole time trailing around with Penny and her friends; we hung out at the youth club the whole time.”

  “Yeah, when I came back everything was different.”

  “You seem to remember it as being so black and white. I thought we grew apart.”

  “I suppose that’s how this shit works. Everyone has a different point of view. I came back after summer break and you was entrenched with your girlfriends… and so you should’ve been. It’s part of a normal teenager’s journey.” That’s partly how I viewed it, but mostly I was frustrated with myself for not making it known how I felt about that. But I was pulled back by my father often enough to know that it would be an uphill battle even if the win was in my favor. Which it wasn’t. Lemon had moved on.

  “Suppose. But if you’d have said something Carson, things might’ve turned out different.”

  “How?”

  She maintains her stare before fluttering her eyelashes shut. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what went on with Blue and me and why we even got together in the first place.” Her eyes flit across my face as if they are searching for a reaction.

  “Go on,” I say softly, hiding my disappointment at the reference to him again.

  “Back then, I saw how Josie was with Blue and that’s what I wanted. That relationship. The way they laughed, held hands, whispered in each other’s ears. How he would dance with her.” I close my eyes on that vision. “Carson, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t say this to you.”

  With a heavy heart, I say, “If you can’t say it to me, who can you say it to?”

  “In a nutshell, I wanted what Josie had and you’ve helped me realize it wasn’t Blue I needed, it was what they had and how they were, and Carson…” She blinks a tear from her eye and I put a finger onto her lips.

  “Don’t say it… just yet, anyhow. Let’s make sure first.” I lean in and replace my finger with my lips, letting them meld with hers.

  She hasn’t left Blue behind yet, and until she does, she has no business stringing me on with words like those she was about
to say.

  Fifteen

  Lemon

  After a few days at Carson’s cabin, I go home.

  It feels like I need time to think. To catch up on where I am. When I left here on Friday evening, I was a different person, and when I walk back through this door the transformation hits me like a cargo train.

  I’ve had sex with Carson Perrins.

  I’ve had hot, crazy-ass sex with my best friend.

  And I don’t know how to feel about that.

  There’s guilt wrapped up in the myriad of emotions that whirl around my aching, used body. A feeling that I’ve betrayed a childhood memory, turned it forever on its head.

  Yesterday I thought I’d found the elusive treasure trove at the end of the rainbow—a man who actually loved me back. But when I tried to tell him that yesterday, he stopped me. Okay, it was stopped by one of his incendiary kisses but all the same he knew what I was going to say and he put a firm halt to it.

  Maybe he felt it too, the confusion at what we are to each other now. Unless he knows exactly what we are. Friends with benefits? Or maybe he just didn’t want me to ruin the moment.

  But then again, why am I surprised? I know that a sure-fire way to push a guy away is to tell him how you feel. They run a mile from that shit.

  Catching up with my laundry, I stuff a load in the washing machine and run a damp, clean cloth over the work surfaces in the kitchen so I can sit down and study without chores distracting me. But I haven’t even finished my pointless cleaning in the kitchen before the washer makes an awful racket. With my hands curled on my hips, I watch the washer hop around for a while before dumping the cloth and take ahold of the edges of the machine, trying to shuffle it onto a more stable footing. But I’m not really sure what I’m doing and one of the stabilizers snaps, sending the machine bouncing dangerously close to my bare toes. I leap back and the water infill pipe behind the machine rips from the wall, spurting cold water into the air.

  “Shit!” I hold a hand to my head and think frantically where the main tap is so I can turn off the water. Flinging open cabinets and scrabbling under the sink, it’s not in any of the obvious places. By the time I reach the back door to investigate down the side of the house, water covers the kitchen area and it seeps between the gaps in the wood floor near the couch. While I’m fumbling the key in the lock, a huge bang makes me scream and I jump out of the back door onto the grass. When the pain in my chest subsides, I poke my head back through the door to check on what the hell happened. The washing machine has stopped and it seems the electricity has tripped. But water still gushes out of the pipe at the wall.