Serving Trouble (9 page)

 

Chapter Twelve

T
HANK
G
OD FOR
kittens.

If they hadn't found the box by the side of the road, if she hadn't needed to keep them in his barn, Josie Fairmore wouldn't have led him into the barn and dusted off his pride. He'd been skirting failure ever since he'd deployed. He hadn't stepped in and helped Caroline until it was too late. And shooting at ­people—­doing his job as a marine—­it hadn't felt heroic or good. Caroline's rape and the harsh realities of war were beyond his control. His time with the marines had been a wake-­up call, forcing him to realize he couldn't always be the guy who rushed in and saved the day.

But tonight, he'd delivered exactly what Josie needed. He hadn't let her down.

And shit, it was a helluva lot more fun to be the guy who delivered the orgasm versus the white knight routine. Who cared if it screwed up his friendship with her brother or messed up their employee/employer relationship? Right now, he didn't give a damn about anything outside this barn, and he was sticking to that story.

“Glad I could be of ser­vice,” he said as he rose to his feet. His knee felt stiff from pressing into the cushion and his shoulders ached from hunching over to bury his face between her legs. But it beat the side of the road. Although, the scene she'd described, with his back against the front of his truck . . . well, he hoped she planned to do something with the part of his anatomy she'd openly admired earlier. “Now, about your offer from this morning—­”

“Yes, Noah,” she said with a laugh. She stepped to the side, leaving him facing the bull. “It's your turn to hold on to the saddle while I blow you away. But I don't think you need to wedge your foot in the stirrup.”

He followed her instructions, placing his hand behind him on the bull as he faced her. Her gaze flickered to his dick, hard and eager for her lips. But she didn't sink to her knees.

Was she waiting for him to lay her down on the cushion and take her like he had five years ago? He didn't think she was ready for full penetration, “you're mine baby, all mine” sex. He sure as shit wasn't. He was looking for release pure and simple, not a pile of emotions that might spiral out of their control.

And last time . . . the words she'd said while she came, his dick buried deep inside her . . .
I love you.
Yeah, he wasn't too eager to go there again.

“Sorry.” She gave her head a little shake. “I didn't look long enough last time. I didn't fully appreciate your cock. I knew you were bigger and better than anything I'd ever seen, but I only caught a glimpse or two.”

He grinned because right now, with her, he sure felt like smiling his damn ass off. “I don't think I got enough of your dirty talking mouth last time.”

She laughed and dropped to her knees. Her hands touched his thighs and, thank you Jesus, her lips wrapped around his dick. Her tongue swirled around the tip and she took another inch, and then another . . .

“I'm feeling pretty damn appreciated,” he growled as he released the saddle and ran his fingers into her hair. He pressed against the dark locks pulled tight by her ponytail and hoped she wouldn't feel the need to respond.

She took him deeper and he closed his eyes. The rest of the world faded into a distant noise. The sound of Josie sucking on him, drawing him deeper, trumped everything else. The feel of her nails digging into his thighs, the bite of pain in sharp contrast to the nearly overwhelming I'm-­going-­to-­explode feeling coming from his dick.

Her head bobbed faster and faster. Yeah, he was close, too far gone to hold back.

“Josie,” he cried as his hips thrust forward, driving him deeper into her mouth. A warning bell sounded in the back of his head.
Not like this. You have to warn her if you're going to come in her mouth.

“I'm going to . . . Oh God, Josie.” He pushed her head back and released her. Wrapping one hand around himself, he ran his fingers to the tip, once, twice, and he came. All over her breasts.

He looked down, expecting to see confusion, maybe a hint of hurt in her eyes. But she was focused on his hand. And miracle of miracles she was smiling as if she'd secretly hoped he'd explode on her chest.

She shifted her green eyes upward to meet his gaze. “Quite the gentleman, aren't you?”

He laughed and lowered down to his knees. He released his dick and reached for her, wrapping his hands around her shoulders. “Josephine Fairmore, we're in a barn and you're a mess. That doesn't make me much of a gentleman.”

She pulled away and crawled on her hands and knees over to his discarded shirt. She picked it up and wiped her chest. “There. All clean. And bonus, you'll have to drive me home topless.”

“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.”

N
OAH 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 right 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.

“Noah, wait.”

He glanced back. She was alert and sitting up now, her legs crossed. She plucked her hair band off the mat and began pulling her hair back.

So damn beautiful.

“I should go,” he said, the sight of her breasts draining the conviction from his voice. But if Caroline said it was important . . .

Caroline didn't ask for help. Even when she'd been afraid their commanding officer would attack her again on the way to the bathroom, she'd never reached out to him. He'd offered because he saw what was happening and he couldn't live with himself if he didn't try to keep her safe.

Caroline wasn't asking now, but still, she'd searched him out. And she was smart enough to guess he hadn't spent the night in the barn to keep the kittens company.

“I should see what Caroline needs,” he added.

“I don't have a car.” She lowered her arms, leaving her hair in a messy pile on her head.

“Take my truck.” He reached into his pocket and withdrew his keys. “Just leave it at the bar if you get your car running, OK? I'll find a way to get there.”

He tossed the keys and she caught them. “Thanks,” she said. “I'll see you at work later.”

He nodded, knowing he should say something more.
You blew my mind last night. I never wanted it to end. I still want you.

But he just turned and headed for the door. The woman on the other side needed him. And Josie? Shit, she'd been the one saving him last night. Maybe later he'd find the words to tell her.

 

Chapter Thirteen

J
OSIE'S
M
INI
SPUTTERED
to a stop in front of The Lost Kitten. She'd had to jump her car off Noah's truck and she had a sinking feeling her little red car would die again when she turned it off. Stupid battery. But it had made it to her friend's club. Thank goodness. She'd thought about taking Noah's truck out to see Daphne.

“Not after the way he ran out of the barn the minute someone came knocking,” she muttered, then turned the key and listened as the engine died.

And the way my heart raced to the door just in time to see it slam shut.

She'd taken the risk and tried to fight her fears. And she'd ended up falling for him all over again. If only he hadn't asked her to stay the night.

She climbed out of the car and walked through the empty parking lot. Daphne stood in the door to the special events room she rented out for bachelor and bachelorette parties. She'd even hosted a baby shower there once or twice. Daphne had offered to throw one for Josie. But she'd been dead set against telling anyone in Forever about the baby. And then it had been too late.

Stupid reality raising its ugly head, stealing away the feeling that everything was all right. . .

“Morning,” Daphne called. Wearing a pink T-­shirt that read “Naughty Kitten” across the chest and jean shorts, her best friend held a mug in one hand and a vibrator in the other.

“You sure know how to greet company,” Josie said.

Daphne shrugged. “I figured you needed one or the other. Coffee if you jumped Noah or an orgasm to remind you why you should.”

She took the coffee and pushed past her friend into the party room. Or what had been the party room the last time she'd been inside. Maybe it still was—­for a very different kind of party. Lingerie that would be better described as costumes—­no one wore a French maid's outfit on a night when they planned to enjoy a cup of tea and a book—­handcuffs, and a laundry list of things Josie couldn't identify lined one wall. Unopened boxes filled the other side of the room. “What happened in here?”

“I'm redecorating,” Daphne explained.

Josie sipped her coffee. “I think you're going to lose the baby shower market.”

“The event space wasn't bringing in enough, so I'm turning this room into an adult toy store. I'm calling it The Lost Kitten's Toy Chest.”

“A sex toy store?” Josie said. “Just outside Forever?”

It was a bold move. But unlike Josie, Daphne Sullivan had never been concerned with her reputation. Her father had walked out when Daphne was three, leaving her mother, a church secretary at the time, to raise Daphne and one-­year old twin boys alone. With three children to feed, Mrs. Sullivan had decided men spent more on sinning than redemption. She'd used her meager savings to open The Lost Kitten. While God might have forgiven Mrs. Sullivan, the churchgoing women in Forever hadn't extended an olive branch—­to either her mother or Daphne. Her mother probably didn't care, given that she'd moved to Washington to care for one of the twins' children. And the whips on the walls suggested her daughter didn't either.

“The town needs one.” Daphne set the vibrator down on a box and reached for a folding chair propped up against the wall. “Sit, drink your coffee, and tell me everything while I unpack boxes.”

Josie explained about the kittens, the ones that didn't belong anywhere near her friend's toy chest. She left out the part about Noah mistaking the box for a bomb—­and what they'd done during their night in the barn. Daphne didn't need to know the details. How Josie had been grateful he'd told her to place her foot in the stirrup, how she'd needed the stability when his tongue gave her the orgasm to end all orgasms. And maybe that was a tiny exaggeration. If it really was an orgasm for the record books, she'd still be so lost in pleasure that she wouldn't care about how he'd run away with her heart this morning, would she?

Daphne dropped a bottle of body paint on the floor. “Wait, he left you naked in a barn because the new dishwasher needed him?”

“She's an old friend,” Josie said. Telling this story was like weaving her way through a maze. She kept running into roadblocks, things she didn't feel comfortable revealing to Daphne—­like the fact that Caroline would be arrested if anyone found out she'd run away from her duty to serve with men who'd threatened her.

“Noah's right, you know.” Daphne bent over to pick up the paint. “He's a jerk.”

“I know.” Josie stared into her coffee cup. “And now I need to tell that jerk, who happens to be my boss, that I can't go back to his barn.”

“You're falling for him,” Daphne said.

She nodded. Last night, she'd slipped a few inches closer to love.

“Shit, Josie.” Her friend's brow furrowed with concern. “I'm sorry.”

“I landed myself here. Just like every other mess. But this time there's nothing pulling him away. He doesn't have to leave for basic training in a few hours. He's not heading to war.”

“That might not be such a bad thing,” Daphne said. “If you're falling in love—­”

“I'm not ready to get my heart broken again,” she said flatly. “So this time, I'll have to push him away.”

Please let me be strong enough.

“You can do it.” Daphne reached for another box. “After everything you've conquered? Telling that jerk to fuck off won't be a problem.”

“As long as I don't mix up the words. One look at him, Daph, and I might say ‘fuck me.' ” She stood and scanned the unpacked boxes. “I'd stay and help, but I really need a shower and maybe a nap before my next shift. Next time?”

Daphne nodded. “I'll save the edible underwear section for you.” She picked the vibrator up off a closed box. “But you should take this. To help you keep your hands off a man who thinks it is appropriate to leave you alone in a barn wearing your birthday suit.”

“Caroline knocked on the door—­”

“Stop defending him.”

“He had to leave.” Plus, they were lucky the dishwasher had stayed outside. And that her gun was in the safe. Not that the AWOL marine had a reason to shoot. But if something had pushed Caroline to seek Noah out, she was probably feeling closer to her GI Jane–meets-­wood-­nymph persona than her recently adapted position as Big Buck's freckle-­faced dishwasher.

“When you told me that you planned to ask him for a job at Big Buck's I thought he might be good for you.” Daphne plucked a plain brown paper bag off her desk and slipped the sex toy inside. “That he would help you move on from all that pain.”

“I am moving on,” Josie said, hoping her voice hadn't wavered. She could tell herself she was strong enough to move forward, to put the past behind, just a few more bills to pay and she could shed the guilt, bury the pain—­but that didn't mean it was true.

“I visited you in the hospital, remember?” Daphne had softened her tone. “And afterward? When you refused to leave your apartment?”

She nodded. No one else, aside from the food-­delivery men, had witnessed her hopelessness. She'd avoided her father's calls. Dropped out of school and cut ties with her college friends. She'd isolated herself from the rest of the world.

“I know you're fixated on paying your bills—­”

“I have to do something,” Josie said.

Daphne held out the bag with the vibrator. “Call me tomorrow.”

“You want a status report?” she said, eyeing the bag.

“I just want to know you're OK.”

Josie took the bag. “Me too, Daphne. Me too.”

N
OAH STARED AT
the image on his phone. He knew that parking lot. The picture showed the small rear space behind Big Buck's. Hell, even his truck was in the shot along with Caroline and Josie. The words covering the image read “Mine.” And whoever had posted this wasn't talking about the truck.

“This appeared on my phone this morning?” he asked, looking up at Caroline.

“I was in the kitchen making coffee when your phone vibrated. I glanced at the screen, more out of habit than anything else, and saw this picture.”

She stepped back and began to pace the small kitchen. The half-­eaten apple pie sat on the rectangular wooden table. The table ate up half the room, but his dad had turned the formal dining room into a home office after his mother passed away.

“And you think Dustin sent this?” He leaned back in his chair.

“Who else would hunt me down? Who would know to look for me here? He knows where you work. You talked about the bar all the time.” She stopped and shook her head. “I shouldn't have stayed. I should have warned you and left, taking him with me.”

Noah sighed. “He sent it to my phone. Whoever sent this, he's not just after you.”

And he could be after Josie.

His grip tightened on the phone. He didn't like the idea of someone hunting down Caroline. But Josie? Goddammit, he wanted to reach through the phone and crush whoever had sent this.

“I know. Dustin's after you too. ” She started to pace again. “We're an easy target if we stay together. I should leave.”

“And go where?” he asked. “I like the odds of two against one crazy, bitter, and disgraced marine.”

“You believe me? You really think he's coming for us?”

“Yes.” He'd always taken her at her word.

“Thank you,” Caroline said. “For believing me.”

“You don't exaggerate or look for drama. Until all that shit started when we deployed to that remote FOB, you did your job.”

Sure, she'd endured off-­color jokes during basic and possibly during her first deployment. He hadn't been stationed with her on that one. But when they arrived at the forward operating base in Bumblefuck, Afghanistan, some members of their team, led by Dustin, had changed. Maybe something snapped when they went out searching for the enemy and returned knowing they'd taken lives. Or maybe they'd simply parked their decency and restraint at home.

“He's coming for us. For you.” Caroline let out a shrill laugh. “I'm nothing to him. You're the one who provided the evidence that stripped him of his rank and destroyed his career.”

“I know.”

This wasn't a box full of kittens. This was a viable threat. And it was hitting close to home, not far from the barn where he'd slept with Josie last night. He'd been lost in the feeling that he'd finally found someone who wanted what he had to give. And the entire time, a pissed-­off ex-­soldier, who was probably armed and undoubtedly dangerous, had been lurking around his hometown.

Shit, he hadn't offered Josie a rescue last night. He'd brought her too damn close to the kind of trouble that led to bullets flying—­or worse. Now, he needed to keep her safe. And Caroline too.

“Do you have a plan?” she demanded, her gaze moving between him and the screen in his hand. “Should I start packing?”

He set the phone on the table. “You don't need to keep running from him.”

“Dustin might alert the police,” she said, but he swore her spine straightened and she stood taller. Caroline had always preferred fight instead of flight.

“We'll deal with that if it happens.” He stood. “But if he's waited this long, I don't think he plans to hand you over to be court-­martialed. I'm guessing he realizes that you'll be parked behind a desk instead of thrown in a military prison as punishment for deserting.”

“This is personal for him,” she acknowledged.

“Right.”

“Unlock the gun safe. We'll go after him now.”

It was tempting. But after seeing Caroline aim at Josie, his faith in her only ran so far. Caroline had been hurt by ­people she'd trusted to have her back when bullets were flying. That betrayal had left her on edge. When they were still deployed together, she'd grown more and more paranoid.

“I doubt he's still in the parking lot waiting for us after sending this,” he said. “But you can have your gun back if you promise to only use it for self-­defense.”

“You have my word.”

His cell vibrated in his pocket. He withdrew it and glanced at the screen. Two words stared back at him—­
Josephine Fairmore.

“Shit.” He swiped his thumb across the screen and held it to his ear. “Hey, Josie.”

“I need you to pick me up.”

“What happened? Where are you?” he barked into the phone as he pushed back from the table. His fear for her rushed to the surface.

“The Lost Kitten parking lot. And my car won't start. Daphne jumped it, but this time it has finally called it quits. I think it needs a new starter.”

Relief washed over him.
Thank you, Jesus, for keeping her safe.
And yeah that was the closest he'd come to praying in a while.

“Which stinks,” Josie continued. “Because even if I did the labor myself, I can't afford the part.”

“We'll figure something out,” he said. “Just stay there. I'll borrow my dad's Buick and swing by to pick you up.”

“Thanks. Daphne would give me a ride, but she's opening soon for brunch.”

Sunday brunch with strippers. He didn't want to think about who headed straight for The Lost Kitten after ser­vices.

“I'll be right there.” He glanced at Caroline, who'd assumed a parade rest position with her hand clasped behind her back. She'd been ready to launch into action in response to the panic in his tone when Josie had said she needed him.

“And then, Josie,” he added, looking away from Caroline, “we need to talk.”