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“Are you going to walk away without telling me your name because I’m not into whips?” he asked, hoping to spark the laughter he’d seen in her eyes just moments ago.
“What if I told you I could convince you to give it a try?” The uncertainty disappeared, but hell if her expression wasn’t serious.
“Are you really into—”
“No, I was teasing. Whips aren’t my thing,” she said smiling. “And I’m Sadie.”
“Logan.” He ran a hand up and down the back of his neck. “But now I’m kind of curious how you’d convince me.”
Sadie laughed. The sound was like a drug. It drew him in and left him wanting more.
“I’d start by reading to you.” She took the book from his hands and opened to the middle.
“‘That’s right, baby,’” she read. “‘Harder. Please.’”
He didn’t think it was possible for him to get more turned on, but the combination of her husky voice and bright, laughing expression took him up a notch. Given that her eyes were fixed on the book, he didn’t think she’d noticed.
But that hadn’t stopped him from picking up on her response. His gaze swept over her, settling on her breasts. Either she was freezing in the unair-conditioned store or her nipples were begging for attention.
“‘I want you to drive your hard...’”
She looked up at him, catching him with his gaze locked on her chest. Shit. He quickly looked away.
“Too much for a morning reading at Main Street Books?”
“No,” he said with a dry laugh, running a hand through his hair. “It is just that I haven’t done this in a while. Flirting.”
She nodded, closing the book. “Just got out of a relationship?”
“Something like that. I’m a—”
He couldn’t say the word. For the first time in months someone had looked at him with something other than pity. If he said the word widower the laughter would vanish. And then she’d leave. He might not be sure where this was going, but he didn’t want her to disappear.
It had been over a year since he’d lost his wife to cancer. Before she’d slipped away, she’d been sick. For eighteen long months, his world had revolved around illness, pain, loss and pity—even from his teammates. Not a hint of laughter.
He wanted to move forward. After his last mission, he didn’t have a choice. His grief had distracted him at the worst possible moment. He needed to add some lightness back into his life.
“It’s a long story,” he added.
She turned her head to one side, studying him. “One that explains why you’re hiding from a group of women?”
He blinked. “How did you know?”
“I saw your covert entrance and the group of ladies across the street. Pretty sneaky. Although next time you might want to choose the nonfiction section.” Her tone was friendly, but no longer teasing. “Why are they after you?”
“I’ll tell you,” he said, determined to hear her laugh again. “But first, I need your word you won’t join forces with them.”
She lowered her voice as if they were discussing a top-secret mission. “I promise.”
“They’re trying to raffle me off to the highest bidder.”
Sadie let out a bark of laughter, raising her hand to her mouth. “And you’re not for sale?”
“No, ma’am.” He shook his head. “But those women? Man, they’re relentless. If my team found out? I’d never be able to live that one down.”
The bell over the door rang. Sadie stepped back and peered around the last bookshelf in the section. From there, he suspected she could see the front door.
“They’re in the store.” She returned to the romance/erotica section and scooped up her purse. “We need to get you out of here. We can’t have a tough soldier like you become the laughingstock of your team.”
She took his hand and pulled him along behind her. “Come with me. I’m parked out back.”
Hand in hand, Logan followed her through the bookshelf maze. He knew they weren’t in any real danger, but his heart raced. What would this wild, sexy woman do next?
Sadie froze midaisle. If his training hadn’t kicked in, he would have crashed into her, probably sending them both to the floor. As it was, she’d left him off balance.
Without warning, she pressed him against a side door between two bookshelves. He caught himself before the shock of her body against his sent them both tumbling.
“Someone’s coming,” she whispered.
Instinctively, he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her around, shielding her from view, or enemy fire. But this was a bookstore in Vermont, not a war zone. Still, he didn’t step away.
Her breasts pressed against his chest, sending his racing heart into overdrive. Her lower body fit between his splayed legs. With her heeled sandals and long legs, he would only need to lift her another inch before sliding inside—if they were naked and he was ready. At the moment, he only had one of the two working in his favor.
When he was on a mission, the adrenaline sometimes left him standing at attention. A hazard of the job. But right now it had everything to do with the woman staring up at him as if she couldn’t wait for his next move. She shifted, rocking her hips against him. There was no way she could miss the hard evidence of just how turned on he was.
Her gaze drifted to his lips, an invitation to taste. Logan groaned, lowering his head until their lips were practically touching. And he hesitated. Releasing her waist, he ran his hands through her loose wavy hair, his eyes roaming over her parted lips. He wanted to kiss her. But not here. Not like this.
She pushed up on her tiptoes, making every muscle in his body aware of just how much he wanted her. Turning her head, she brought her mouth to his ear and whispered, “I think the coast is clear. On three, let’s make a break for it. My car is the blue Prius on the left. Ready?”
He nodded, relieved and at the same time wishing the full-body contact wouldn’t end.
“One, two, three,” she said.
He stepped away, letting her slip in front of him and lead the way to their escape car.
This was crazy, but right now he didn’t care. He felt alive and more turned on than he’d been in years—a helluva long way from that lonely cliff’s edge he’d been standing on for months.
* * *
SADIE PEELED OUT of the parking lot with Mr. Ruggedly Handsome in her passenger seat. Her hands gripped the wheel, her body tense with excitement. But as soon as they turned onto the main road, guilt crept up on her. She’d come to Vermont for her sister, not to “rescue” hot soldiers from a crowd of women—especially one still reeling from a recent breakup or worse.
God, what if he was married? Sadie took her eyes off the road long enough to glance at his ring finger. Bare. She let out a breath of relief.
Still, there was a story behind that brief moment of hesitation she’d witnessed earlier. If she had to guess, a complex one. Sadie had enough problematic relationships in her life right now. If—and that was a pretty big if—she decided to have a vacation fling, it wouldn’t be with a complicated man.
But Logan was a walking five-alarm fire. The anticipation of that almost-kiss had left her body on edge. She tightened her grip on the steering wheel. Turning left, she drove the length of the block, and turned left again.
“Mind telling me where we’re going?” he asked.
“Back to the parking lot,” she said. “I think the coast is clear by now. And to set the record straight, I’m not in the habit of kidnapping men I meet in bookstores.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Logan nod. “Go straight up ahead and turn left at the next stop sign. That will get you back there. The one-way streets here are like a maze.”
“You’re from the area?”
“Born and raised,” he said. “Where are you visiting from?”
“Manhattan.”
“Long way from home,” he said.
Distancewise it was a few hours by car, but after forty-eight hours in Mount Pleasant, her home felt like a faraway world.
“My sister is having a baby.” Sadie turned right, pulling in beside a large blue truck. “She asked me to come up and lend her a hand.”
She put the car in Park and turned to him. Tension radiated off Mr. Ruggedly Handsome. His mouth formed a thin, grim line. The playful, teasing man she’d seen in the bookstore had vanished.
“You’re the writer,” he said. “The one renting Lou’s guesthouse.”
Sadie smiled. “Word travels fast.”
“Small town.” Logan opened the door. With one foot on the pavement, he turned to her. “Thanks for the rescue. And to set the record straight, I’m not in the habit of letting beautiful women kidnap me.”
His words warmed her body. “Beautiful, huh?”
“I should be going.”
His gaze dropped to her mouth. Remembering their almost-kiss between the shelves? The heat in his eyes said yes. But she also saw regret. Maybe he’d meant what he’d said earlier in the store—he wasn’t ready. Perhaps the past still had a hold on him?
Logan exited the car, careful not to slam her door. He gave a little wave and then disappeared across the lot.
“Well, that’s a first.” She put the car in Reverse. She’d never had a man almost kiss her, call her beautiful and then disappear before he found out what she wrote.
Sadie turned onto the main road. She could always ask Laurel about the handsome soldier, but she didn’t want gossip. She’d rather hear his story from him. There was something about the longing she saw in his eyes when he looked at her. It left her wanting to do more than read sex scenes to him. She wanted to get to know him in bed and out, learn his secrets and unlock his mysteries.
4 (#ulink_f57277d4-70fa-5733-afbc-56503c5c5485)
“YOU’RE HOVERING.” Laurel stood in front of the stove, a wooden spoon in one hand, the other resting on her belly.
“You should sit down.” Sadie plucked the utensil from her twin’s hand. “Rest. You’ve been standing over that stove all morning.”
“We need food,” her twin protested.
“I just filled your fridge with groceries yesterday.” Sadie had been horrified when she’d looked through her sister’s kitchen and realized her twin was barely getting by foodwise. She knew Laurel and her husband had been struggling since Laurel had lost her job, but Sadie sent money every month despite Laurel’s protests. Her very pregnant sister should not be living off mac and cheese.
“I need to fill the freezer. Once the baby comes I won’t feel like cooking. And we can’t live on takeout up here like you do in New York.” Laurel snatched the spoon back and turned away from Sadie.
“Greg can cook for you. Isn’t that part of a husband’s job after the baby comes?”
Laurel snorted. “He’s not allowed in my kitchen. But even if I did let him in, he won’t have the time, between work and the baby—”
“Wait, Greg’s not taking time off?”
“He can’t afford to. As it is they’ve cut his hours at the plant back to thirty-two. That’s how we lost our benefits.”
“I told you I’d pay the hospital bills. If you need more so Greg can stay for a week or two, the money is yours. I have more than enough to cover whatever you need, especially after this next book comes out.”
“No. He can’t risk losing his job. I appreciate the offer. So does Greg. But we can’t turn to you for everything. We’re trying to get back on our feet. If Greg does well, if he works hard and gets promoted, we’ll have benefits again. And when the baby’s old enough, I’m going to find another job,” Laurel said, stirring briskly.
“I know you’re trying. Greg, too,” she said. “But you’re about to have a baby. He should be home with you in the beginning.”
“I’ll have you here,” Laurel said. “I won’t need him.”
“I’m here now. Why don’t you let me finish that while you sit down?” Sadie made another grab for the spoon only to have her hand slapped away.
“I need to cook. And you’re worse than Greg in the kitchen. Go. Write. Enjoy the peace and quiet. Your hovering is driving me batty.”
Sadie closed her eyes and groaned in frustration. Three days. She had been in town for seventy-two hours and they were already making each other crazy. A month would be torture unless she started focusing on her book.
“Promise me you will rest after this casserole is in the oven,” Sadie said, “and I’ll leave you alone until dinner.”
“Scout’s honor.”
Sadie pursed her lips. “We were never Girl Scouts, Laurel.”
“I know.” Her twin waved the spoon at the screen door. “Out. Be back at seven for dinner.”
Sadie marched down the squeaky wooden steps and into the yard. She’d walked over. After living in Manhattan, it seemed odd to drive the equivalent of a few city blocks to visit her sister. She moved through Laurel’s overgrown backyard, not slowing down when she reached the mowed field indicating Aunt Lou’s farm. Following the fence line to the cow pasture, she headed for the red wooden barn. Her cute, quaint guesthouse stood on the other side of the cows’ home.
Sadie studied the barn as she approached. The building shone like a freshly washed fire truck in the midday sun. Someone had painted it recently. The metal gate at the front of the barn swung open. Sadie froze.
Mr. Ruggedly Handsome, the man who wanted “just hot sex, no whips,” walked out carrying a bucket. If she believed in fate, she would have thanked her lucky stars for depositing him on her doorstep. But she’d stopped believing in fairy godmothers and magic wands years ago. And destiny? It had never handed her anything. Her career, her success—those she chalked up to hard work and drive. No, it wasn’t fate; it was coincidence, and an opportunity to learn more about him.
Sadie watched him set the bucket down. Jeans hugged the backside she’d admired that first afternoon at The Quilted Quail and a gray army T-shirt showed off his muscular arms. Leaving the gate open, he disappeared inside. When he came back, he carried two more large blue buckets, his biceps flexing from the exertion.
Sadie bit her lip. She could return to her desk in the guesthouse and write, or she could offer to help Mr. Ruggedly Handsome with his buckets. Her brain didn’t even have a chance to vote before her legs started moving toward the barn.
She had hours to kill before dinner. She couldn’t think of a better way to spend her day than working alongside Logan, drawing him into conversation. She wanted to see him laugh again. He’d been full of humor at the bookstore, teasing her in the stacks. Then, one quick drive around town and he’d become withdrawn and quiet. Any woman in her shoes would be curious.
“Hi, stranger,” she said, offering him a smile.
Logan stopped a few feet outside the barn, but he held on to the buckets, which suited her fine. She didn’t mind seeing his muscles in action. His gaze ran down her body, taking in her plain black tank top, jean shorts that skimmed the tops of her thighs and slip-on canvas flats. Maybe not the best outfit for the farm.
But then he looked her straight in the eyes. Not a hint of disapproval there. No, she was willing to bet her next book advance that the soldier-turned-farmhand liked what he saw.
“Sadie.” The way he said her name—it was as if he’d expected to run into her. He paused before adding, “Good to see you again.”
She smiled. “I’m renting the guesthouse. If you’re working here now, soldier, you might be seeing a lot of me.”
