Command Control

“I should be going.”

His gaze dropped to her mouth. Remembering their almost-kiss between the shelves? The heat in his eyes said yes. But she also saw regret. Maybe he’d meant what he’d said earlier in the store—he wasn’t ready. Perhaps the past still had a hold on him?

Logan exited the car, careful not to slam her door. He gave a little wave and then disappeared across the lot.

“Well, that’s a first.” She put the car in Reverse. She’d never had a man almost kiss her, call her beautiful and then disappear before he found out what she wrote.

Sadie turned onto the main road. She could always ask Laurel about the handsome soldier, but she didn’t want gossip. She’d rather hear his story from him. There was something about the longing she saw in his eyes when he looked at her. It left her wanting to do more than read sex scenes to him. She wanted to get to know him in bed and out, learn his secrets and unlock his mysteries.

4

“YOU’RE HOVERING.” Laurel stood in front of the stove, a wooden spoon in one hand, the other resting on her belly.

“You should sit down.” Sadie plucked the utensil from her twin’s hand. “Rest. You’ve been standing over that stove all morning.”

“We need food,” her twin protested.

“I just filled your fridge with groceries yesterday.” Sadie had been horrified when she’d looked through her sister’s kitchen and realized her twin was barely getting by foodwise. She knew Laurel and her husband had been struggling since Laurel had lost her job, but Sadie sent money every month despite Laurel’s protests. Her very pregnant sister should not be living off mac and cheese.

“I need to fill the freezer. Once the baby comes I won’t feel like cooking. And we can’t live on takeout up here like you do in New York.” Laurel snatched the spoon back and turned away from Sadie.

“Greg can cook for you. Isn’t that part of a husband’s job after the baby comes?”

Laurel snorted. “He’s not allowed in my kitchen. But even if I did let him in, he won’t have the time, between work and the baby—”

“Wait, Greg’s not taking time off?”

“He can’t afford to. As it is they’ve cut his hours at the plant back to thirty-two. That’s how we lost our benefits.”

“I told you I’d pay the hospital bills. If you need more so Greg can stay for a week or two, the money is yours. I have more than enough to cover whatever you need, especially after this next book comes out.”

“No. He can’t risk losing his job. I appreciate the offer. So does Greg. But we can’t turn to you for everything. We’re trying to get back on our feet. If Greg does well, if he works hard and gets promoted, we’ll have benefits again. And when the baby’s old enough, I’m going to find another job,” Laurel said, stirring briskly.

“I know you’re trying. Greg, too,” she said. “But you’re about to have a baby. He should be home with you in the beginning.”

“I’ll have you here,” Laurel said. “I won’t need him.”

“I’m here now. Why don’t you let me finish that while you sit down?” Sadie made another grab for the spoon only to have her hand slapped away.

“I need to cook. And you’re worse than Greg in the kitchen. Go. Write. Enjoy the peace and quiet. Your hovering is driving me batty.”

Sadie closed her eyes and groaned in frustration. Three days. She had been in town for seventy-two hours and they were already making each ot

her crazy. A month would be torture unless she started focusing on her book.

“Promise me you will rest after this casserole is in the oven,” Sadie said, “and I’ll leave you alone until dinner.”

“Scout’s honor.”

Sadie pursed her lips. “We were never Girl Scouts, Laurel.”

“I know.” Her twin waved the spoon at the screen door. “Out. Be back at seven for dinner.”

Sadie marched down the squeaky wooden steps and into the yard. She’d walked over. After living in Manhattan, it seemed odd to drive the equivalent of a few city blocks to visit her sister. She moved through Laurel’s overgrown backyard, not slowing down when she reached the mowed field indicating Aunt Lou’s farm. Following the fence line to the cow pasture, she headed for the red wooden barn. Her cute, quaint guesthouse stood on the other side of the cows’ home.

Sadie studied the barn as she approached. The building shone like a freshly washed fire truck in the midday sun. Someone had painted it recently. The metal gate at the front of the barn swung open. Sadie froze.

Mr. Ruggedly Handsome, the man who wanted “just hot sex, no whips,” walked out carrying a bucket. If she believed in fate, she would have thanked her lucky stars for depositing him on her doorstep. But she’d stopped believing in fairy godmothers and magic wands years ago. And destiny? It had never handed her anything. Her career, her success—those she chalked up to hard work and drive. No, it wasn’t fate; it was coincidence, and an opportunity to learn more about him.