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CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

SUTTON

I didn’t know how sitting on a hay bale in a trailer being pulled by a tractor could manage to turn me on, but there was no denying it had.

Or, maybe, possibly , my body’s reaction had been thanks to the mountain of a man sitting next to me, enough heat pouring off him to power the whole town.

But that hadn’t been what lit me up from the inside out.

Nope.

Instead, that honor had gone to the way he’d looked at me, as if he was fighting this pull too.

And those words he’d whispered, the soft brush of his beard against my ear, had awoken all my good parts.

Not to mention his massive hand cupping my hip, holding me to him protectively.

Possessively.

And then there’d been the tiny detail hovering in the back of my mind that this festival was an event.

A public event.

Which meant kissing was fair game.

I didn’t have to be a genius to know that would be a colossally bad idea.

My brain was already on the fritz simply from swimming in his flannel, his warm, woodsy scent something I couldn’t escape.

Worse, I didn’t want to.

“How long are you going to pretend to know where you’re going?” Atlas asked as I led us through the corn maze.

His low, grumbly voice wasn’t doing anything to assuage my not-so-newfound interest in him.

And, great, just the sound of it had memories slamming into me, the filthy things he’d whispered in that same voice when he’d been inside me repeating on a loop.

C’mon, trouble. Show me how much you’ve missed my cock so I can slide so fucking deep and fill you up.

That reminder had me tripping over what appeared to be air but was most definitely a giant tree limb or something sticking out of the earth.

Atlas reached out, quick as a whip, and steadied me.

He stared down at me, his hands on my hips, his thumbs tucked under my shirt and brushing against my bare stomach.

Even without his saying a word, I knew what was going through his mind.

Every single thing that had been repeating in mine.

And that only stoked this fire between us even hotter.

I cleared my throat and stepped away, needing space from him.

Not that it did me any good.

“I do know where we’re going. It’s this way.”

“Uh-huh,” he said, his tone dry, but he followed anyway.

“Oh, like you know the way,” I tossed over my shoulder.

“It’s kind of part of the gig, trouble. This is the football team’s fundraiser. Who do you think set this up?”

“You’re telling me you willingly got involved in a town festival?”

“Again, not willingly.”

I hummed, glancing over at this big, grouchy man who wore his grumpiness like armor.

But in the short time I’d known him, I’d seen cracks in that facade…

He liked to pretend a big game, but he actually cared.

About a lot of things—this town, his players…

me and my daughter.

“I don’t know,” I said.

“I feel like the coach who happens to be a former pro football player could probably call the shots and say he wasn’t going to do it if he thought it was stupid.”

He grunted but otherwise didn’t respond.

“And I actually heard a rumor at school yesterday. Some of the teachers were whispering about a certain someone who anonymously matches the football team’s fundraising efforts and donates the same amount to every other sport, for the boys’ and the girls’ teams, plus all other extracurriculars.” I turned toward him, studying his face.

That tight clench of his jaw, the harsh furrow of his brow.

Oh, he absolutely hated this.

“You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

“What are you getting at, trouble?”

I shrugged.

“Just that it’s an awfully sweet thing for someone to do. And I’m not really sure why that certain someone would rather demand anonymity for something like that and instead prefer being called The Big Mean One and Coach Asshole. Hypothetically speaking, of course.”

“Well, hypothetically speaking, that person might value his privacy and not want the entire town in his business.”

Glancing over at him, I raised my brows.

“Then you must really hate how much attention our little relationship is getting.”

“If I were, it would only be because I’d rather keep you all to myself.”

Our gazes were locked, so there was no way I couldn’t see every ounce of sincerity and truth in that statement.

I was so shocked by his admission, I tripped again, this time stumbling over a rogue corn cob in the path.

Atlas reached out to steady me, shooting me a scowl.

“Jesus, trouble. If you don’t quit trying to hurt yourself, I’m going to smack your ass. And then, I’m going to toss you over my shoulder and carry you out of here.”

“Well, just so you know, that would be green.”

His eyes heated as he stared down at me, his tongue slowly tracing along his bottom lip and leaving no doubt he was recalling the same thing I was—our night in the hotel.

When I’d given him nothing but green, and he’d delivered.

Fuck me .

Why had I said that?

All my words had managed to do was pour gasoline on this already smoldering fire between us.

Now, it was nothing short of a raging inferno with no hope of being extinguished.

I hadn’t realized Atlas was stalking toward me and I was retreating with every step until I backed into a wall of corn stalks.

He didn’t stop until my nipples brushed his chest with every inhale as he crowded me between the corn and his huge, hulking frame.

Standing so close, he blocked out everything else around me.

I couldn’t see anything beyond the wide expanse of his chest in that T-shirt, his shoulders looming above me, so broad and strong.

And then there was his mouth and those eyes pinning me in place.

Daring me to move an inch away from him.

But I was frozen where I stood, held still by the weight of his palm on my side, tucked beneath his flannel I still wore, those fingers digging into my flesh as if he could rip my clothes away with that pressure alone.

And, god help me, but I wanted him to.

He leaned down, his destination clear by how his gaze was locked on my mouth, and I was helpless to stop him.

Didn’t want to.

I knew this was fake between us.

Had reminded myself of it on the hayride, but this—his body against mine, the heat of him seeping into me, his scent surrounding me and throwing me straight back to each time he’d been inside me—felt real.

It felt real .

And I wanted it.

Was so tired of fighting it.

I needed him to?—

Raucous laughter broke through the pounding of my heart in my ears a second before Jackson and Clark, two kids from the team, stumbled into our path, jerking to a stop when they spotted us.

“Coach,” Jackson said, looking like a deer caught in the headlights as his gaze pinged between Atlas and me.

“Nurse Sutton. What are you two doing here?”

Atlas pinned them with a glare.

“We’re making sure little shitheads don’t screw up the maze.”

“He obviously wasn’t calling either of you a shithead,” I said, slipping under Atlas’s arm and offering the kids a grin, even though my legs felt like jelly and I was pretty sure my panties were a lost cause.

“Yes, I was,” Atlas said.

Clark held up his hands.

“No shitheads here, Coach. We were just surprised to see you, is all. Didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Of course we’re here,” Atlas snapped.

“It’s a team fundraiser.”

“And he dragged me along with him,” I said

Jackson elbowed his friend in the side, then leaned in to whisper, “Told you they were together, man.”

“If I’m not giving you enough work to do that you have time to gossip in the locker room about Sutton and me, I’ll change that on Monday.”

“N-no,” Jackson said, shaking his head rapidly.

“Coach, we’re not— I mean, O’Reilly just mentioned?—”

Before this kid could dig himself any further into the hole, I cut in, “It would probably be a good idea if you two headed out before you make things worse.”

“Are you kidding?” Atlas said.

“I’m not letting them run wild through here. We’ll escort the two of you out.”

It was over the top and unnecessary, but I read the intention behind it.

Atlas knew as well as I did that if we’d had even thirty more seconds alone, I wasn’t so sure those players wouldn’t have stumbled on a scene that was much different, far dirtier, and completely inappropriate for their eyes.

All while we’d been tucked away in a maze without anyone around to perform for.

Atlas had laced his fingers with mine as he’d led us out of the corn maze and just…

hadn’t let go. I hadn’t held hands with a man in longer than I could remember, and I’d forgotten how intimate it could feel.

How we could have our attention diverted in different directions, each of us carrying on separate conversations—okay, it was mostly me chatting, while Atlas only scowled at anyone who’d been brave enough to talk to him—yet have this link tying us together.

Anchoring us to each other.

I knew that wasn’t what this was, even when my traitorous heart flipped at every squeeze of his hand against mine.

It was just for show, our fake relationship on display for the entire town.

I was used to the anonymity of a big city.

What I was absolutely not used to were all of the not-so-subtle, nosy onlookers who didn’t bother to hide their interest or appraisal.

“There you are,” Mabel called from her station in front of a picnic table declaring a pie-eating contest. “I thought maybe you two snuck off to get in some alone time.”

I didn’t have to look at Atlas to know his gaze was on me.

I could feel the heat of it on the side of my face, no doubt thinking about the alone time that had been interrupted in the maze.

And what would’ve happened if it hadn’t been.

I cleared my throat, desperate to steer the conversation in another direction.

“We were actually just on our way out.”

“Nonsense! You can’t leave before the pie-eating contest. Atlas, you’re a shoo-in!”

“No,” he said without hesitation, his tone firm.

“Oh, come on,” Mabel said.

“It’ll be fun, and it’s to support your team! Wouldn’t it be something if the coach won the whole thing?”

“Not happening.”

“Don’t be a spoilsport. Besides—” she shot a salacious grin our way “—I’m sure Sutton would give you a nice reward. If you win.”

“Is that right?” Though he was responding to Mabel, his attention was on me.

More specifically, my mouth.

I knew it would be a bad idea to kiss him.

Possibly the worst idea in the history of the world, considering how worked up I was just from being in his presence.

But I also knew we needed to sell this relationship to the town.

And since my daughter’s number one bucket list item was on the line, I was going to do everything in my power to make this believable.

Without second-guessing myself, I walked my fingers up his abs and his chest before hooking a hand around the back of his neck.

I tugged him down, stopping when he was just a breath away from my lips.

“Winner gets a kiss,” I murmured.

He released a rough sound.

“There are more people than me entering this contest, trouble.”

I let go of his neck and patted his chest, shooting him a grin.

“Well then, you better win.”

He stared at me for two beats before stalking over to Mabel without another word.

As I watched him take his place at the table amid others half his size and listen as Mabel recited the rules, I realized I’d really screwed myself when I hadn’t thought this through.

And I also hadn’t counted on how the sight of him devouring the pie as if it were as easy as breathing would remind me what it had been like to watch him devour me .

A shiver shot through my body, my clit tingling with the memory of his tongue circling it as he’d stared up at me from between my thighs.

How many times he’d made me come against his mouth—again and again and again, as if he’d been starving for everything I could give him.

I was so lost in my memories, I didn’t even realize the contest had ended or that Atlas had won and even had time to wipe the mess off his face.

At least not until he stalked toward me, his eyes hot and hungry, his intent clear.

He was coming to collect his prize.

“I don’t know what has you looking like you want to climb up and ride me right here where anyone can see, but it’s time to pay up, trouble,” he said once he reached me.

“You promised the winner a kiss, and I’m cashing in.”

I had no idea how many people were around.

If anyone was even paying attention to us.

If any eyes were on us at all.

I should have been. That was the entire point of this fiasco—to make sure people believed we were a couple.

But in that moment, when Atlas hauled me against him with a hand on my ass, his other wrapping around my nape, I couldn’t think of anything else but him.

I’d made the stupid rule that only public kisses were allowed.

I knew it was for the best—a definitive line in the sand.

I also knew I had no intention of wasting this opportunity.

Atlas didn’t hesitate for even a second.

As if he was just as desperate for this as I was.

He lowered his mouth to mine, his lips hot and hungry, his tongue caressing my bottom lip before slipping inside to brush against my own.

I wasn’t sure whose groan I heard—his or mine, or maybe it was both of ours combined.

I was too lost in the kiss to care.

Just like always when we were together, everything around me disappeared.

The sounds of the festival melted away.

The hum of voices and the feeling of everyone’s eyes on us ceased to exist.

All I could focus on was Atlas—the grip of his hands tightening impossibly against my ass, the heat of his body seeping into mine, and the solid, immovable wall of him like a shield between me and everything else.

It was a heady feeling to get lost in—that I was his to protect.

His to cherish. But that was nothing but a lie.

What Atlas and I had was fake, nothing more than a ploy that would come to an end sooner rather than later.

No matter how much it felt otherwise.