Page 3

Two

Colt

I knew her the second I opened the door yesterday and saw her on the path.

Emery fucking Langston.

Four years older and softer in all the places that made a man ache. I hauled her out of a burning house once. Didn’t think I’d ever see her again—not in front of me, not close enough to touch, not looking at me like I was just some wounded mountain hermit she had to patch up.

But there she was.

She didn’t recognize me. She wouldn’t. She’d been barely conscious back then, and I was in full gear, smoke thick enough to choke a god. But I never forgot the weight of her in my arms. Never forgot what it felt like to carry her out of hell.

Last night, after she’d gone, I tried to sleep. Yeah, fuck that. Not a chance I’m going to sleep again unless she’s right there beside me. Not after getting a glimpse of her panties outlining what I know is going to be the world’s most addictive fucking pussy.

I tried a cold shower like I was fifteen with a rebellious hard-on.

Didn’t work. My dick was still half frozen when I started to beat off.

Three times in quick succession until my balls ached and my dick was raw, but warm again, and I still wasn’t satisfied.

I don’t know if I’ll ever be satisfied again.

Four years ago, I told myself to move on. The feelings were different then. I just wanted to protect the girl I’d dragged to safety, not fuck her a dozen ways ‘til Sunday. It took weeks, but somehow I tucked all thoughts of her in the back of my mind.

Now, all bets are off. I’ve spent the day staring at the fire. Should have shown up at work, should have grabbed my chainsaw and carved some wood to take my mind off things. But the only thing I’d want to carve right now is my name in her ass so she’ll never forget who I am

My brother Cade showed up late afternoon with some shit about people been trying to get hold of the sheriff and nobody had heard from me.

Fuck that. My world just turned upside down, the job can wait a day.

Now she’s here, and all I want to do is throw her over my shoulder and keep her.

She walks into my place like she owns the fucking mountain. Like she doesn’t know she just woke something in me I can’t put back to sleep. Like she doesn’t know I’m already calculating how to keep her here. Mine. Whether she wants it or not.

"How’s the knee?" I ask, tracking the slight wince when she steps wrong.

"Fine. Just a scrape."

"You clean it?"

"Yes."

"Bandaged it?"

"Obviously."

She’s snippy. Fiery. Fuck, I like her.

Her fingers tremble as she snaps on the blue gloves. I feel them shaking a little as she inspects my ass wound, just enough to make my cock twitch.

She clears her throat, hesitating for a beat. "You have kids?"

I let out a short laugh, dark and low. "Hell no. Ain’t cut out for half-hearted shit like that."

She blinks, maybe surprised by the sharpness in my tone.

Her mouth opens, but she doesn’t say whatever she’s thinking. I step closer, just enough to make her tilt her head back to keep looking at me. "Go on, baby. Say it. I can take it."

For a split second I think she’s going to answer me, tell me something honest. Then she draws a sharp breath.

"Wound looks good," she says, snapping off her gloves. "You’re healing."

"Could’ve told you that without the latex."

She rolls her eyes. "I have to get going."

I frown as I tug up my jeans. "Going where?"

"Dinner. With Logan and some of the crew. Karaoke after."

My blood runs hot. She’s leaving. Of course she is, that’s why her hair is curled, lips glossy. She came up here just to get me hard and then vanish.

"You're going out like that?"

"Like what?" she blinks, all innocent while her ass mocks me in those scrub pants, that scrub top doing nothing to hide how soft she is underneath. “I’m going to change first, obviously.”

“Not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

"You look like dessert."

She flushes. Starts gathering her things, but I’m not done.

"Emery."

She pauses, and I let my voice drop, a growl that lives in my chest.

I step in, real close. "You gonna sing tonight?"

"Maybe. Haven't in a while."

"I want to hear it."

She looks at me. Really looks. And there’s something there. Hunger in her eyes. Doubt fighting desire. That first flicker of a girl about to give in. And she hates how much she wants to.

"You’re not the only one who gets to give orders, Sheriff."

I grin.

She turns for the door. Stops. "Thanks for not being a total caveman today."

"Don’t thank me. You have no idea what kind of man you’re teasing, sweetheart. But you keep testing me, and I’ll show you real fast."

She goes. I let her.

For now.

But the second she’s out of sight, I grab my keys.

Because there’s not a damn chance in hell I’m letting her sing for anyone else before she sings for me.