Command Control
Greg set his fork down on his plate and pushed back from the table. “That’s my cue to leave.”
“I was not with him. Not like that.” But she’d thought about it.
“Yet,” Laurel said.
Sadie waited until she heard Greg turn the TV on in the other room before she nodded. “Yet.”
“He’s an army ranger.”
“I know,” Sadie said.
Laurel smacked the wooden table with her open palm. “So you talked to him.”
“I helped him with the farm chores. And afterward, I fed him pie.”
Her twin’s eyes sparkled. Leaning forward as far as her belly would allow, she spoke in a low voice. “I heard a rumor he rode a horse into battle. And Cindy said—”
“I’m not interested in gossip,” Sadie said, shaking her head. “If I want to know something, I’ll ask him.”
“You’re planning to see him again?”
If she had her way, she’d do more than see him. But sharing her interest with Laurel didn’t feel right. She was here to help her twin, not the handsome soldier who might have ridden a horse through a war zone. God, that sounded hot. Part cowboy, part soldier and all muscle—the man was a walking, talking fantasy. With secrets. She couldn’t forget about those.
&nbs
p; “I’m living in his aunt’s guesthouse,” Sadie said. “I’ll probably bump into him again.”
“So no plans?” Laurel pressed.
“I might have agreed to help him repair a birthing pen for the heifers,” she admitted. The downside to not spending time with Laurel—she forgot how easily her twin knew when she was fudging the truth. “But only if you don’t need my help.”
Laurel raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to fix a birthing pen? Did you tell him you don’t know a screwdriver from a hammer?”
“He didn’t ask. And I’m not that hopeless. Anymore.”
“When was the last time you used either?”
Sadie picked at the potatoes on her plate. “Not recently.”
“Yeah, you’ll be a great help.” Laurel stood and began clearing the table. “You’re going to end up having wild sex in a barn while I sit here watching my feet swell.”
Guilt came crashing down on her. Sadie abandoned the steak dinner she’d barely touched and brought her dish over to the sink to help her sister. “If you need me, I’m here.”
Laurel waved her away, taking the dirty dish from her hands. “No. You should have sex with the soldier.”
“I’m not looking for a vacation fling,” she said. “You know that is not why I’m here.”
Laurel placed the untouched steak on a cutting board and began slicing. “That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t seize the opportunity. Your last relationship ended in disaster three months ago. And I’m willing to bet you haven’t had sex since then. Am I right?” Laurel stopped slicing and gave her a pointed look. “I’m right,” her twin said. “Get the loaf of bread from the fridge, please.”
Sadie did as she was told.
“A fling is just what you need,” Laurel continued. “Just do yourself a favor and don’t tell him you write erotica.”
Sadie set the bread down beside the cutting board, her gaze fixed on the dark night outside the window. The memory of her last failed relationship still stung. She was over Kurt, but the way he’d run for the hills the moment he’d learned about her career, claiming it would damage his future political career? That hurt clung to her. So did the fact that he’d assumed his career ambitions trumped hers.
But deep down she’d always known her work would be a deal breaker. When she’d revealed her pen name, Kurt had focused on the graphic, sexual elements in her book. She’d explained that her writing was about a young woman learning to ask for what she wants in a relationship. But still he’d asked her to walk away from the publicity and all the opportunities that went with it.
And she’d said no.