Serving Trouble (Second Shot 1)

She sighed. “I know.”

“He’s working tonight?”

“Noah is always working.” She stood and headed for the pile of shoes by the closet. She’d dumped her suitcase out, but she hadn’t put her shoes away. This wasn’t permanent. She’d come home to get back on her feet. She wasn’t giving her shoes a forever home in her childhood closet.

“He’s coming by to pick me up soon. We’re heading to the brewery to pick up another keg,” Josie added, plucking her cowgirl boots off the top of the pile. She might as well wear them here. They seemed out of place in downtown Portland. Not that she had a reason to go back. She’d shed her friends, her job, her scholarship, her apartment—­every piece of her life in that city had drowned in her depression and mounting dept.

“He might do something nice today and then you won’t fall for him,” Daphne said, teasing.

“Maybe.” But he’d already taken in two women running from pasts that refused to let go. That was sweet of him and she still bought his asshole act. “I suppose there is always the chance we find an old lady who needs help across the street or a kitten who needs to be rescued from a tree,” she added.

Daphne laughed, but Josie didn’t join in. Because even if Noah saved every lost kitten from here to Portland, she’d still hope for another kiss, another touch, another taste beside his truck.

Maybe I can push my fears aside again and take the risk. . .

“I’ll stop by tomorrow morning,” Josie said. “I promise.”

“Visiting a strip club instead of church on a Sunday?” Daphne said with feigned horror. “What will ­people say?”

“That I’m still a lost cause. That I haven’t changed.” She sat on her bed and pulled on her boots that would walk straight back to Noah’s barn if she let them. “And they might be right,” she added. “Because I want him to be a jerk.”

NOAH PARKED HIS truck in front of the chief of police’s old farmhouse and pressed the horn. He hoped Josie’s dad had already left for the station. Chief Fairmore would start asking questions if he found Noah grinning like a damn fool while waiting for his daughter. And what the hell would he say to Josie’s father?

I want your daughter in a way that promises to leave her boots beside my bed—­or next to the bull in the barn.

Chief Fairmore might tell him to steer clear of his daughter, or threaten to tell his dad, Big Buck himself, that his son was messing around with an employee. And yeah, Noah probably should have served himself a heaping plateful of regret alongside his eggs this morning. He shouldn’t have kissed Josie. But he sure as shit hoped they found their way back to that moment. If she gave him a chance, he’d steal a kiss and then some.

The front door opened and Josie stepped out. She’d skipped the black dress today. And for a split second he missed the tight fit of her red sundress. But then she stepped off the porch and headed for his truck. Between her tight, short jean skirt, boots, and top, his attention splintered, drawn to the legs he wanted to feel wrapped around his hips. And those boots . . .

But his gaze zoned in on her top. She wore the old Big Buck’s T-­shirt he’d given her that first night. Only she’d tied the loose fabric into a knot at her back, pulling the words “Big Buck’s” tight across her chest.

He wanted to replace the worn letters with one word—­“Noah’s.”

He was one helluva jerk. But ever since he’d come home, he’d wanted to lose himself for a little while, forgetting about all the shit that had happened while he served his country.

A blow and a beer—­that’s what I want.

He’d had a beer, but he’d steered clear of meaningless oral sex with a willing woman. Because he’d wanted Josie since he walked out of that barn five years ago. Smart, sexy, brilliant Josie.

“Morning,” she said as she opened the passenger side door to his truck. “You look good for three hours of sleep.”

“I’ve gotten by on a lot less,” he said.

“I know.” She climbed in and fastened her seat belt. “How is Caroline?”

Still living in a nightmare. But he didn’t feel right talking about how he’d heard his houseguest crying through the thin walls in his childhood home.

“All right.” He turned onto the two-­lane country road leading toward the highway. “She found out about your dad being chief of police.”

“I didn’t tell her, but I’ll make it clear that my father won’t find out about her from me,” she said. “And I don’t think Josh clued her in either. But he did offer to make her a pie.”

“What?”

“He likes her,” Josie said.

Oh shit.

“If he lays a hand on her,” Noah growled, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. “If he touches her—­”