Bare Essentials

Cassie had entered the twilight zone.

“Call me later,” Mrs. Wilkens whispered. “Yes, I’ll bring home another romance novel, don’t worry. Some new ones just came in…. I love you, too.” She slipped her cell phone into her pocket and then went very still when she saw Cassie.

Who didn’t quite know what to say. A definite first. “You…you have phone sex?” she managed to say.

“Romance readers have a sixty percent better sex life than nonreaders,” she sniffed. “If I’d known you were coming, I’d have put out some more books for you.”

“You’d have…” Cassie narrowed her gaze, suddenly transported back in time. Every time she’d sneaked into the library, she’d always found a stack of new books seemingly waiting just for her. It had been her own little miracle. Her oasis in a life of hell. “You…” Oh, my God. “You.”

Mrs. Wilkens nodded. “We had the same tastes. And it seemed to keep you off the streets.”

“But…I thought you hated me.”

Mrs. Wilkens smiled, her face softening. “You thought everyone hated you. Hang on, I’ll find you some books.”

Oh, yeah. She’d definitely entered the twilight zone. But Mrs. Wilkens came back with three books Cassie had been eager to read. Unbelievable.

When she finally left the library and drove home, she sat in her car for a moment, staring up at the big, dark house on Lilac Hill, wishing she’d thought to leave every light burning.

“Meow.”

“Yeah, yeah.” With one last apprehensive look at the dark walkway, Cassie got out of the car, reached for the cat and got hissed at for her efforts. “Fine. Walk. Hope there aren’t any dogs out here.”

Miss Priss lifted her chin and leapt from the car like royalty, leading the way with her head held high.

Cassie had to admit, the attitude helped. When she imitated the cat and threw her shoulders back, head up, she felt better. Invisible. Or was that invincible?

She just wished she had claws like Miss Priss, on the off chance she needed them.

But no one jumped out and yelled boo.

There was, however, a package on the porch, which gave her one bad moment. She opened it, pretending her fingers weren’t shaking as she did so, and found the most incredible-smelling batch of chocolate cookies. Her mouth watered—mostly because she’d skipped lunch.

“What do you think, Miss Priss? Poisonous? Or delicious?” When the cat didn’t so much as look at her, Cassie took a tentative bite. “Mmm.”

She’d been walking through the decadent house flipping on all the lights, munching on cookies for dinner, when the knock came at the door. Cassie opened it and found the woman from town standing there, minus the toddler.

“Hi, remember me? Stacie?” Stacie grinned at the cookie in each of Cassie’s hands. “Oh, good. You’re enjoying the goodies I made.”

“They’re heaven,” Cassie admitted. “I have no idea how I’ll fit into my work clothes in the fall, but thanks.”

Stacie smiled. “No problem.”

Cassie nodded in what she considered a friendly, neighborly manner, not that she’d ever had any neighbors to be friendly with. When she’d lived in this town growing up, she hadn’t been allowed to talk to her neighbors—except for Kate—as in the house on one side of the duplex had lived a man who’d sold drugs, and in the other the resident had a police record a mile long.

In New York, she’d never even seen her neighbors.

So she didn’t have a lot of experience to go on here. She waited for Stacie to get to the bottom of her visit. To tell her what she wanted.

But the woman just stood there. Cute as a button. Still smiling.

“Uh…” Cassie offered a half smile. “So…”

“This is where you invite me in for a drink,” Stacie said helpfully.

“Oh.” Cassie looked over her shoulder and wondered if she’d cleaned up after herself. “Well…”

“That’s okay.” Stacie reached out and squeezed her hand. “We can work our way up to that. But you could do me one little favor.”

Here it was.

“Tomorrow’s opening day of the carnival.”

“Carnival.”

“Don’t tell me you don’t know about Pleasantville’s annual carnival! The one to raise money for arts in the schools. Held at the beginning of every summer.”

Oh, Cassie knew all about the carnival. She’d sneaked her first beer at the carnival. Her first cigarette.

Lost her virginity.

Oh, yeah, she had a whole host of whoopee memories from the annual event. “Let’s just say I’m not particularly fond of it,” she said carefully.

“Oh.”

Stacie looked so disappointed, Cassie sighed. “What’s the favor?”

“I’m going to be sitting in the dunking booth. Thought you’d come by and say hi. Since the divorce I haven’t socialized very much and…” She lifted a shoulder and let out a little laugh. “And it’s been a bit lonely, you know?”

Friends. Is that what Stacie wanted? Ha! Obviously she hadn’t been listening to the town gossip lately. As for lonely…ah, hell. “Yeah, fine. I’ll stop by.”

Stacie’s entire face lit up, and before Cassie could blink she was enveloped in a hug. “See you tomorrow,” Stacie whispered, and then she was gone.

Leaving Cassie with one more thing to think about.

* * *

PLEASANTVILLE’S ANNUAL carnival brought out the best and the worst in the general population. There were clowns, games, crafts, rides and enough junk food to keep the town in stomachaches for the rest of the year.

There were also whiny kids, grumpy parents, the occasional drunk and a slew of trouble-seeking high school kids out to score.

Not to mention the heat. Dark had fallen and yet at nearly ninety degrees, the temperature hadn’t.

Not exactly the way Tag would have chosen to spend a Saturday night. He wasn’t on duty, not officially anyway, but they were still short staffed due to the flu, and he knew his presence would help.

The music pulsed loud, as well as all the hooting and hollering from the rides and games. Pulling his shirt away from his damp skin, he strode up and down the aisles thinking of how he’d rather be spending his evening.

In front of ESPN. With air-conditioning.

No, scratch that. In the arms of a woman. Yeah, now there was a way to pass time. His nice, quiet, sweet, loving woman, whose entire life would center around him and his needs. And though she’d be quiet, she wouldn’t be shy. No way. She’d be wildly passionate and erotically sensual.

She’d greet him at the door wearing his opened shirt and nothing else but a smile.

Now there was a fantasy.

He strode down a row of games, then around a corner to another aisle, stopping to gulp down a large lemonade. People had shown up in force tonight to support their schools, but few had found this area yet. He could see straight ahead to the dart game, where all one had to do was pop three balloons to win a prize.

A woman stood there. There were women all over the place, but this one, dressed to kill in her jade-green haltered sundress, stood out. She was concentrating fiercely, her back to him as she threw back her arm, aimed…and missed.

He knew that long, slim back. Those blond waves tumbling over straight, proud shoulders. Those long, long legs that could wrap around a man and—

“Shit,” she muttered, and shoved a hand into her pocket. That she came out with another buck surprised him, as her skirt appeared to have been painted on.

Several women passed Cassie, each of whom stopped to stare at her, then kept going, laughing unkindly. Tag frowned and opened his mouth to say something but Cassie flipped them off and went back to shooting.

It made him grin.

And suddenly he was incredibly glad he’d come. Still grinning, he sauntered up to the booth and leaned a hip against it as he turned casually toward her.

She didn’t even glance at him, just accepted her new darts from an awed-looking, pimply-faced teenage boy and aimed again.

Two balloons in a row, bull’s-eye. Pop. Pop.

“One dart away for the big prize,” the boy told her with a huge, dopey smile on his face. “You have to hit all three to get the—”

“I know what I have to do.” She threw the dart.

“Close,” Tag said conversationally when she missed by a mile. “But no cigar.”

Oh, she noticed him now. Narrowed her very incredible, very green, very expressive eyes on him. “You distracted me.”

He lifted his hands. “Hey, you didn’t even see me until just now.” Slipping a hand into his pocket, he came out with another buck. “But here. Try again, on me.”

“I’m not taking your money.” She slapped down her own dollar. “Back off, you’re in my space.”

“Backing off.” But he didn’t. She smelled too good, looked too good. He wasn’t going anywhere.

She didn’t even notice. In fact, she appeared to forget about him as she took aim. And this time hit her target. Then did it again.

“One more time,” the kid said, ever so helpfully, and Cassie lowered the third dart and glared at him. He took a step back. “Sorry. I just know how bad you want this pretty teddy bear here.”

“Teddy bear, huh?” Tag tucked his tongue into his cheek as she aimed and once again missed her third and winning shot. “I gotta tell you, I never really pictured you as a teddy bear type, Cassie.”

“Oh, she wants it really bad,” the kid offered as Cassie grated her teeth. “She’s already put at least ten bucks on it.”

“Is that right?” Tag looked at Cassie and lifted a brow. “You need something cuddly to sleep with at night, Cassie?”

She sighed. “Is there a reason why you’re standing there staring at me?”

“Well…” He scratched his jaw and looked her over, from the long neck he suddenly wanted to nibble on, to the breasts nicely outlined behind her halter, down her curved hips and mile-stretch legs. Her toenails were hot pink tonight, and she wore a silver toe ring, reminding him of the nipple ring. Was she wearing it now? “You are something to look at.”

With a roll of her eyes, she slapped down another buck and went back to the task at hand. Aimed. Let it rip, and Tag had to admit, she knew what she was doing.

Pop. Pop.

Two balloons down.

“Only one to go,” he offered.

Her hand lowered, and she shot him a withering look. “Don’t talk.”

He smiled and waited until she aimed again. “You know, if you want the teddy bear that badly, I could win it for you.”

“I’ll win it myself, thanks.”

“Oka-a-ay,” he said, and watched as she missed.

She swore with impressive skill, then dug into her pocket again. Came up empty. Swore some more.

“My offer still stands.” He smiled when she bared her teeth at him. “If you’re interested. I’ll win it for you.”

“Sure you will.”

He put a hand to his chest. “Your doubt wounds me. But you should know, I was all-city dart champ.”

Cocking a hip, she crossed her arms over her chest. “Really.”

“Really.”

“So you’ll win me the teddy bear.”

“Just said so, didn’t I?”

She studied him, then let out a little laugh. “Okay, cocky man, what happens then? After you win?”

“I hand you the prize.”

“And?”

“And…” He let out a slow, wicked grin, both because he could taste victory and because she was so incredibly hot. And fun. That was the shocker. He was having fun with her. “And in return, you give me a prize.”

Her eyes narrowed to little slits. “Which would be what exactly?”

“I don’t know yet. I’ll think about it.” He slapped down a buck, accepted his three darts. Aimed.

And was stopped by a hand on his arm. He looked into deep green eyes that held a world of knowledge. “I don’t want the teddy bear.”

“Liar,” he said softly, and hit the first balloon. “But that’s okay. The bear will look good on my bed.” He hit the second balloon.

Pop.

She tossed back her hair. Looked at him with fire-spitting eyes. Then caved. “Okay, damn you, I want the bear.” Her fingers dug into his arm. “Name your price.”

They weren’t touching—other than her fingernails digging into his biceps, that is—but their mouths were only a fraction apart. Hers was all glossy and smelled like peaches.

He loved peaches.

Their breath comingled, and with a sharp stab of lust he remembered exactly how good those lips tasted. He wanted another taste. “My price?” He lifted the third remaining dart. Weighed it in his hand. “A kiss.”

A laugh escaped her. “Just a kiss? You don’t aim very high for yourself, do you?”

“On the contrary…” He narrowed his gaze, studied the distance to the remaining balloon. Hefted the dart. “I know exactly what I want. And I’m not afraid to get it.” Turning his head, he shot her a last look. “How about you?”

“I know what I want.”

“The teddy bear.” He smiled. “But I’ve discovered I want it, too.” He aimed, but before he could throw the dart she stopped him.

“Fine,” she said.

He set down the dart. “Fine what?”

“You want me to say it?”

“Yep.”

That earned him a roll of her eyes. “If you win the bear, I’ll give you a kiss for it. Okay? Right here, right now.”

“Oh, no,” he said with a shake of his head. “Not right here.”

“Where then?”

“Where I say.”

She looked him over. Wanted to tell him to go to hell, he could tell. “You have twenty-four hours to claim it, big boy, or all bets are off.”

“Deal.” He leaned close and she tilted her head back, away from him. Lifting a finger, she wagged it in his face. “Gotta win it first, ace.”

He arched a brow, then showed her he was just leaning in to grab the dart.

She crossed her arms and didn’t offer another word.

He smiled and tossed the dart.

And won the girl the bear.

Handing it to her, he grinned and said, “You’re welcome.” He watched as she turned away and buried her face into the bear’s neck, her arms hugging the thing tight. Because suddenly his throat was tight as well, he cleared it. “So…Are we going steady now?”

“In your dreams.” She huffed off, a vision in her little sundress, her blond hair flying everywhere, arms wrapped around the huge bear.

The kid running the booth watched her go. “That was amazing, dude.”

“Yeah.” But all Tag could think about was his prize. And it was walking away.

So he did what any red-blooded, aroused man would do. He followed her.

* * *

CASSIE STALKED through the carnival, glaring at any man who so much as looked at her. And there were plenty. Women looked, too, if her itchy shoulder blades were any indication. Good. Let them look at bad-ass, no-good, trouble-seeking Cassie Tremaine.

The high-heeled sandals had been a mistake, she thought now, because she couldn’t really motor in the them. Should have worn tennis shoes.

Had she even packed tennis shoes?

“Cassie.”

Oh, that voice.

“Cassie, wait up.”

Nope. She kept walking, smiling as though she was the queen of the ball, as if the sexiest, most obnoxious man she’d ever met wasn’t striding behind her.

He’d won her the teddy bear. Not only that, her heart had gone all pitter-pattery watching him do it. Unacceptable, really. She had no need for a man doing something she was capable of doing for herself. She wasn’t like her mother, damn it.

She had no need for a man, period. Never had. Not knowing who her father was, having never had a positive male role model, having never had men do anything but drool when they looked at her, she supposed she had a rather low view of men in general, but not one had ever proven her wrong. Not yet anyway.

At least Tag wasn’t wearing his uniform. Maybe that was the trouble, she thought now. Because without the uniform she obviously couldn’t be trusted to remember she didn’t like him.

The carnival wasn’t that big, and before she knew it she was in the parking lot. Good thing she’d gone and dunked Stacie before going for the teddy bear, because she was good and ready to leave now.

But not to go home. Home was dark and lonely, with only a grumpy cat waiting for her. And nightmares of Pete finding her.

The night was still and hot. She’d give just about anything for a cool breeze. And that’s when she decided.

The lake.

It wasn’t a very far walk, and her feet were tougher than they looked. She wanted to see the lake by moonlight, and what she wanted, she got. She started off, hugging the teddy bear, not listening in the least for Tag’s footsteps. But even if she had been, they weren’t there to hear.

Good. He’d gone away. Just as she wanted.

Bastard.

The moment she stepped off the road and onto the little sandy beach, she set down the teddy bear—careful that it didn’t get covered in sand—and kicked off her sandals. Her toes dug into the wet sand and she nearly moaned at the cool pleasure of it. This. This is what she’d needed. She walked to the water, letting it lap at her ankles.

Alone. “His loss,” she told the moon.

“Not yet, it’s not.”

She was not going to scream, jump, or give any sign that he’d nearly scared her right out of her skin. Again. Calmly, with a little smile on her lips, she turned. “What are you doing?”

“Collecting my prize.” He stepped close, so very close that she could see the moonlight dancing in his eyes. Could feel the heat of his big, tough body.

Tensing, Cassie waited, because she wouldn’t welsh on her promise. She’d pay the price. She held very still, waiting to be grabbed. Groped. Conquered.

But he did none of the above, just stepped even closer, careful not to smash her toes.

“What—”

“Shh,” he said before sliding his arms around her and putting his mouth to hers. She should have known from their earlier encounter he was different. There was no grabbing, no groping, no conquering. Nothing even close. Yes, his arms were strong and firm, but also loose enough she could wriggle free if she wanted to.

She thought about it for all of one second. He was tall, powerfully built, and smelled like heaven. It wasn’t often she stood in a man’s embrace with every thought draining out of her head, but it happened now as his hands cupped her face, almost reverently, tipping her head for better access.

Oh, yes, better access was good. So good she arched against him. The sound he made low in his throat caused a mirroring one in hers.

At that, the kiss went instantly explosive. His tongue slid home. He hauled her body up against his. And still, she didn’t want to be free. The opposite, she realized dimly, snaking her arms around his neck to hold on tight.

With the touch of her fingers on the back of his neck, he groaned, a very erotic sound, and nibbled at her lower lip.

Ohmigod, was all Cassie could think, and then she couldn’t have repeated even that. Her knees wobbled; her heart rammed against her ribs as they practically ate each other alive. This…this—whatever it was they were doing to each other—was far more than she had bargained for, and still it wasn’t enough. She wanted more. She, a woman who never wanted more from a man. Never.

It took her a moment to realize he’d released her, and that she stood there weaving like a drunk.

“Thank you,” he said very politely, in direct contrast to the way he was breathing as if he’d run five miles. Uphill. “That was…”

“Yeah.” She licked her lips, tasting him on her. “That was…” Craving his mouth back on hers, she licked her lips again.

He made another rough sound, almost a growl. “Unless you want to extend that price you negotiated, don’t.”

“Don’t…?”

“Don’t look at me as if I’m the first one who’s ever kissed you stupid. Don’t stand there weaving weakly with lust…Ah, hell. Don’t even breathe. Yeah, that should do it.” He turned from her, shoved his hands through his hair and stared out at the lake.

Shocked, she looked at him. Really looked at him—at his stiff shoulders, his rough breathing—and knew he was as out of control as she was.

And how annoying was it that she no longer wanted him just so that she could cross another item off her revenge list. She wanted him because…well, just because. “It got a little out of hand, that’s all.”

He shot her a look of disgust over his shoulder. “You think?”

“Yeah.”

Before she knew what he was about, he turned, lifted a hand and caressed her cheek. “So it wouldn’t, couldn’t, happen again, right?”

She barely caught herself from closing her eyes and sighing at the surprising tenderness of his big, warm hand. “Of course not.”

“Liar,” he whispered softly. Before she could snarl at him for that, he walked away.

5

TWO DAYS LATER Tag still couldn’t get that kiss out of his head. It went with him to work, to play, to bed…and that’s where it was the worst. Bed.

He wanted Cassie there with him, he couldn’t deny that. He wanted her badly.

But why? She was bad attitude personified. She hated everything about him, his life, his job.

So what did that say about him, being so undeniably attracted to her?

That he was sick, very sick.

But knowing it didn’t stop the desire, so that when he walked into his office after a day from hell, desperately in need of coffee and some time off, and saw her standing there in front of his receptionist, his gut took a hungry leap.

He told himself it was simply because she exuded sex appeal and it had been…well, longer than it should have since his last sexual experience.

It was the outfit, he decided. She wore a microskirt the color of a field of daffodils, and a matching zippered crop-top, out of which came two spaghetti straps from what he assumed was a bathing suit worn beneath. Her hair had been piled on top of her head, with strands tumbling free to her shoulders. And then there were her legs—long and toned and bare except for a pair of strappy sandals.

“I was just wondering if the restraining order I took out in New York protects me here,” she was saying, and all Tag’s lusty thoughts flew right out the window. “Because I’ve received some more threatening mail and—”

“What restraining order?” Tag asked, moving close. “What threatening mail?” She smelled like coconut oil. He loved coconut oil. Ordering himself not to notice her scent, or to picture what she was obviously dressed for—sunbathing—he looked into her green, green eyes.

“If you don’t mind, I’m having a conversation with your receptionist,” she said. “A private conversation.”

Roxy, who’d been working at the station since his father had been sheriff, shot him a sympathetic look, then turned back to Cassie. “You do have a restraining order already in place? In New York, you said, right? Can you give us the details?”

Cassie glance sideways at Tag. “Us?”

“Well, the sheriff here is really good at what he does,” Roxy assured her. “He can help protect you—we just need to know what’s going on. We’ll need to know who the restraining order is for, what specifically, and any other pertinent details for our records.”

“Such as why you didn’t tell me when you first hit town,” Tag said lightly, not feeling light at all.

Cassie picked up the purse she’d set on the counter. “You know what? Never mind.”

“But—” Roxy made a frustrated sound when Cassie pivoted away and headed toward the door.

“Thanks anyway,” Cassie called over her shoulder.

Not even her curvy little ass could sidetrack him now. With one last glance at Roxy, who lifted her shoulders to indicate she knew as much as he did, he followed Cassie.

Who gave no indication that she even noticed.

“Cassie,” he said as she strode out of the station and into the early evening.

Her heels clicked on the asphalt. Everyone she passed took a good long second look, both men and women. Some started talking. Cassie didn’t so much as look at a single one of them.

“Cassie,” he said again, but as she was having no part of him, it left him following her like some damn puppy dog. But she’d tweaked his curiosity—and concern—and if there was anything more dogged than a curious, concerned cop, he didn’t know what it was.