Page 57

Zach arched one brow. “How domestic of you.”

“You’re just jealous.”

He snorted. “Fat chance. I like my life just fine, thanks. Now, are you going to order, or are you just here to hold up my line?”

I ordered a ham and cheese panini and grabbed a water from the cooler. A few minutes later, Zach joined me with his own sandwich, Isa taking over for him at the counter.

“How are things at The Anchor?”

“Good.”

“Mom and Dad come home in, what, a week? You know Mom will invite you back home once she can talk Gran down. Are you going to move back to the farm when the dust settles?”

“Nope. I’ve decided it’s a change for the better.” I wrinkled my nose. “Plus, I think Gran’s going to be dug in on me moving out.”

“I dunno. My money’s on Hurricane Vanessa, but it might be a battle.”

Once Mom caught sight of Beetlejuice, it was likely to be a short discussion. The efficiency appealed to me, both revenge and subtle nod that I’d moved on. Pranking Gran in close quarters was a recipe for food poisoning. She didn’t pull any punches.

“I’m happy where I’m at.”

Zach leaned back, examining me. Slowly, a grin spread across his face. “You and Anya hooked up, didn’t you? Look at you, old man. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

I glowered. My first instinct was to protest the hookup part. We were more than that. I didn’t treat my dick like a hobby.

“Ooh, your face right now. I should take a picture,” Zach teased, dimple flashing. “Settle down. I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks,” I said grudgingly. “Have you seen a guy around, mid-thirties, dark hair and short beard, bomber jacket, Midwest accent?”

Zach’s nose wrinkled. “So many people come through here. It’s not ringing any bells.”

“Keep your eyes open.”

“Why?”

“It’s Anya’s story to tell, but he’s bad news. Call me if you see him?”

Zach dipped his chin, expression serious. “You got it.”

Taking care of the handful of maintenance jobs at The Anchor took up the rest of my afternoon. I showered and changed, eager to see Anya. I’d found myself pausing throughout the day, flashes of our night together running through my mind. Getting a semi while snaking a drain left me feeling a little gross, but it was a testament to Anya’s pull on me. I forgot where I was and what I was doing when I thought of her.

***

She looked up from chopping fresh rosemary at the counter as I stepped into the kitchen. “Hey, handsome.”

Her warm greeting hit me hard. I wrapped her in my arms, encouraging her to drop the knife and penguin-walked her toward her room, kissing her cheeks, her forehead, her nose. Burying her in affection with every step, until I finally settled on her mouth. She smiled into our kiss, opening easily as we tangled in an exploration that seemed to go on forever. My breath came in rough gasps as I fumbled with her clothing. We crossed the threshold to her room, and I kicked her door shut behind us.

“Vi home?”

“Nope.”

“I can’t wait.”

“Dinner can be late.”

She’d slipped into a flowy skirt and shirt for dinner, giving me easy access to her smooth thighs. Flipping her skirt up and ripping her panties down took only a breath. I urged her back, tipping her onto her bed, legs akimbo. Gripping her ankles and forcing them wide left her open to my gaze.

Her eyes flashed. The challenge there drove me to my knees. I inched forward, taking my time to trace her right leg from ankleto inner thigh, smiling into her soft skin when she squirmed beneath me. I skipped over her slit, nuzzling her left thigh, pausing to drop a kiss on the inside of her knee. Her soft whimper urged me on, but I resisted, slowing my pace, making the travel from knee to ankle take a lifetime.