Serving Trouble (Second Shot 1)

“Stay.” He said the word without pausing to think through the repercussions. He couldn’t take her to the house where his father was eating pie with Caroline. And keeping the police chief’s daughter overnight? That probably spelled trouble, like serving a shot of whiskey to a drunk.

“Here?” she asked, patting the cushion. “With the kittens and the bull?”

“Here.”

Because it damn sure feels like trouble can’t touch us in here.

And because he wanted to hold on to the feeling that he could give her what she needed for a little while, that he wouldn’t fail her.

“OK.” She crawled over to him, her nipples close to brushing the mat. He wanted to taste her, draw her breath into his mouth, but he needed to hold her more.

He lay down on his side and patted the mat. She joined him and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back close to his front.

“Noah?”

“Yeah?” He ran his hand over the curve of her hips before settling on her waist.

“This sure feels like chivalry to me,” she teased. “Offering to cuddle instead of driving me home after a BJ in the barn? You could have dropped me off, headed home and passed out alone with a beer in your hand.”

A blow and a beer. He’d come home thinking that was all he wanted. But right now, Josie topped that list.

“Sweetheart, I don’t even have a blanket,” he murmured. “Though I wouldn’t mind the beer and the passing-­out part.”

He closed his eyes. The realization that he was pushing close to exhaustion surfaced and he gave in, content to drift off to sleep with Josie in his arms.

And not a chance in hell her brother will interrupt this time.

“Noah,” she whispered.

But he was too close to sleep to respond.

“I don’t need a blanket,” she added. “Just this.”

NOAH WOKE UP to the feel of a woman’s breast cupped in his left hand, her head resting against his shoulder, and a trio of kittens curled up on his chest. Yeah, this came close to heaven in his book. And it didn’t have anything to do with the plain grey balls of fur purring like they had little motors. Or the repeated knocking at the door.

He lifted his head off the cushion, trying not to disturb Josie. One of the kittens yawned and stretched as his abs contracted, but he ignored the animal. He focused on the tap, tap, tap against the bar door. It was real, all right.

How the hell did Dominic get back here so damn fast?

Daylight streamed into the barn through the windows in the rafters. It was morning and he was bare-­ass naked beside the bull with Josie Fairmore.

If someone catches us, this will be a helluva lot worse than when she was caught in the hay wagon with Travis holding her panties.

“Noah?” Caroline’s voice called through the door. “Noah, are you in there?”

“Yeah,” he called back before she tried to open the barn door. Had he locked it last night? He’d been focused on Josie. The rest was a damn blur. “I’ll be r

ight there.”

He gently slid his arm out from under Josie. Then he set the kittens on the cushion and stood. He found his pants and pulled them on, ready to go commando if it kept Caroline out of the barn.

“You’re leaving?”

He looked back and saw Josie propped up on an elbow, blinking away the sleep. The band tying her hair back had fallen out during the night, leaving her long dark wavy hair flowing over her shoulders. A few strands fell forward and teased her breast. He wanted to join her on the matt and keep the rest of the world locked outside the barn while running his tongue over her nipples.

“Noah,” Caroline called again. “It’s important.”

His jaw tightened and he looked away from Josie. “I need to talk to her and find out what’s happened,” he said softly.