Command Control

gan opened up his wallet. Then he stood and headed for the door. He had to get out of here. Longing and loneliness would not change the fact that any reasonable woman would expect things he wasn’t ready to deliver.

2

“SEDUCE ME. I want to feel your hands on me. Your mouth, your tongue. I want to feel every inch of you holding me down, claiming me,” I say as I lean back on the bed. “That’s an order.”

Sadie read the words for a third time, but failed to reach the next paragraph. She couldn’t concentrate on the pages she’d written yesterday. Not with a man staring at her. Reading a sex scene in public was nothing new. In Manhattan, she’d reviewed her chapters while riding the subway. Before she’d sold her first book, commuting to and from her multiple waitressing jobs was when she’d done most of her writing.

But reading while a stranger watched her as if he wanted to devour her? That destroyed her focus and sent parts of her body spiraling toward take-me-now excitement.

Sadie shifted in her seat. His attention—and her response—reminded her how much her body missed her ex and their regular bedroom workouts, even if her mind had moved on quickly in the wake of their parting three months earlier. But the interest she felt had nothing to do with the past.

She looked up from her notebook as the stranger walked by her bar stool. With his wavy dark brown hair, piercing brown eyes and muscles even his cargo shorts and loose black T-shirt couldn’t hide, the man defined ruggedly handsome.

She turned her head to one side, her eyes narrowing. He seemed strangely familiar. Studying his backside as he walked toward the door, she knew. Mr. Ruggedly Handsome looked like Hugh Jackman when he’d played Wolverine in the X-Men movies—minus the facial hair—from his serious expression to his ready-for-battle body.

He walked with grace and purpose. Part of her wanted to go after him, find out if he was available and interested. But she couldn’t. Not right now. Her sister would be here any second. As long as she was in Mount Pleasant, her family came first. Everything else, from work to drool-worthy strangers, needed to take a backseat.

The door opened and he disappeared into the sunshine, leaving Sadie to her reading.

“There you are.” Laurel, Sadie’s twin, enveloped her in a big hug. They might have been born the same day, but the similarities ended there. Sadie had inherited their father’s Irish coloring, while Laurel looked like the all-American girl next door with her blond hair and blue eyes. A very pregnant girl next door.

“Careful, you’ll crush the baby,” Sadie said, struggling to maintain her balance on the barstool.

Laurel squeezed tighter. “I can’t believe you’re here.”

“You said you needed me.”

“I know. And you always come through for me. But this time you’re here. For a whole month. I never thought you’d leave New York for that long.”

“I can barely believe it myself.”

An entire month in small-town Vermont, away from the hustle and bustle of her everyday life in New York City, away from sushi delivered to her doorstep, away from her quiet writing space. Of course, she could work here. She could write anywhere. But still, she was here. For Laurel. For once, she was trying to put her sister first, to tip the scale between personal life and professional.

“Sit. Please,” Sadie said, pulling away from her twin’s embrace. “You look like you should be resting with your feet up. You’re...”

“Enormous?” Laurel said with a wide grin.

“That wasn’t the word I was looking for.”

“Only for another month.” Her sister took her hand and squeezed. “I can’t believe you’ll be here when the baby arrives. I asked Dad to come up, too, but he said the trip was too expensive.”

Sadie frowned, her wineglass hovering close to her lips. “I sent him an extra check with a note to buy a plane ticket.”

“Oh, well, he didn’t mention it,” Laurel said, the excitement in her eyes dimming.

Damn him, Sadie thought. Her father might begrudge her charity, but he didn’t have to take it out on Laurel. As far as Sadie was concerned the monthly checks weren’t a handout. Their father had worked hard to provide for his twin girls after their mother had passed away when they were babies. Now it was Sadie’s turn to take care of him. She had the money to ensure they stayed afloat. And with the way her book had taken off, she could do a lot more than pay the bills. But her father and sister would only accept so much.

Laurel shrugged. “It’s just as well. I don’t know where I’d put him. We barely have room for you and the baby.”

Sadie set her wineglass on the bar. “I found someplace else to stay.”

Laurel’s brow furrowed. “You’re staying with us. After all you’ve done for us, the checks you sent when I lost my job, we owe you. I can’t repay the money, but I can feed and house you for the next month. Please, Sadie. Let me do this for you. I promise to bake your favorite cookies.”

“I’d be in the way on your couch.” Laurel and her husband rented a cramped one-bedroom cottage outside of town. And while Sadie lived in a Manhattan apartment the size of a shoe box—albeit one with a Central Park view—it had been years since she’d shared her living space with her twin. They’d fought day and night back then. She couldn’t imagine it would be better now that Laurel was eight months pregnant.

“I saw an ad online for a guesthouse rental on the neighboring farm,” she continued. “I called and it was available. This way you will have some time with Greg before the baby arrives and I will have space to write. I have a book due soon.”

“Lou’s guesthouse?”