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Command Control
Sadie nodded. “I spoke with a woman named Louise Reed.”
“Everyone calls her Lou.”
“Well, I’m staying in Lou’s guesthouse,” Sadie said firmly. “But that does not change the fact that I’m here for you. I’m going to be the best big sister.”
“You’re five minutes older. I don’t think that counts,” Laurel said, her eyes brimming with tears. It was an old argument. One they’d joked about for years. “But thank you,” her twin added. “For everything. I appreciate the money. We wouldn’t have survived without it. Still, having you here means even more to me. And one day, I’m going to find a way to repay you. When you need me, I’ll be there. I promise.”
Those heartfelt words sent a wave of guilt crashing down on her. She was here for her sister. Mostly.
She glanced around the spacious restaurant, unable to meet her twin’s gaze. Everything about the place was quaint and welcoming. At the back, they’d kept the old sliding door from when the building had been a barn. High up in the A-frame ceiling, light poured in through long horizontal windows. This place was a world away from her life in Manhattan. But when she went back, her life wouldn’t be the same. Not even close.
“You don’t have to feel guilty,” Laurel said, as if reading her mind. Sadie had never been able to hide anything from her twin. It was a little scary how easily Laurel knew what Sadie was thinking. But the connection did not run both ways, which was just plain unfair.
“I know you had to get away before the world learns about your secret identity,” Laurel continued.
In a few weeks, everyone would know she’d written the erotica novel everyone was talking about—Isabelle’s Command by MJ Lane. Sadie would be on national TV promoting the release of the second book in the series. She felt a wave of excitement just thinking about it.
But two weeks earlier, a small problem had threatened her carefully planned reveal. She’d caught a photographer outside her building when she’d gone out for a bagel. Thankfully, she’d spotted him first and quickly covered her face with her arms. She’d heard the camera’s click, click, click, but knew he’d only caught shots of a faceless red-haired woman walking into her building.
Of course, he’d still tried to save his story by calling her publicist to verify the woman in the pictures was MJ Lane before printing them. Her publicist had lied, telling the man no. But not all of them would fact-check. If she wasn’t careful, she would not be able to keep her secret until the release of her second book. Another tabloid reporter might run the story on a hope and a prayer that the facts were correct.
Telling the world Sadie Bannerman was MJ Lane—it would happen. And she was determined to make the most of the story. This was her career, her future, her everything.
But it needed to unfold according to her plan. Here, in rural Vermont, there was very little chance her secret would get out before her next book release. Her big disclosure would be perfect.
Almost.
Once the world learned who she was, she knew her relationships, already strained from the time and energy she poured into her work, would be marked with a big fat F for failure. She’d have less time for her sister. And her father? She hadn’t asked him, but she had a hunch he didn’t like the idea of the whole world knowing she wrote erotica. He acted as if taking the money she made from her work was a cardinal sin.
She might not be able to set things right with her dad in the next few weeks, but she could take this opportunity to be here for her sister. Laurel needed her and this time sending a check to help cover the bills wasn’t enough.
“It means so much to me that you’ll be here when the baby arrives.” The tears were no longer brimming; they were flowing down Laurel’s face.
“Oh, no, don’t you start. If you cry, we’ll both be a weeping mess in minutes, and I refuse to cry in public. I’m here for a whole month. We’re going to have some fun together before my little niece arrives.” Sadie caught the bartender’s attention. “Do you have pie?”
When they were little, pie had been the family cure-all. Their dad had never known what to do with two crying girls, so he’d decided it was best to splurge on a trip to the diner for a slice or two.
“Yes, dear,” the man old enough to be her grandfather said. “Apple, cherry and Maine blueberry.”
“Apple,” Laurel said quickly.
He nodded. “Two slices?”
“No,” Sadie said. “We’re going to need the whole pie.”
3
AFTER MORE THAN a decade in the army, Logan knew when to withdraw and wait for the enemy to pass. Not that the pack of elementary school teachers were hostiles, but after his encounter with Cindy two days earlier, he wasn’t taking any chances. He hadn’t planned on leaving the farm, but his aunt was driving him crazy, constantly badgering him about the raffle.
Logan spotted the women leaving the coffee shop on Main Street before they saw him, and his training kicked in. Opening the door to the one-hundred-and-something-year-old Victorian house that had been converted into Main Street Books, he slipped inside. A covert entrance except for the jingling bell attached to the door announcing his presence. He found a position in the rear corner of the store, deep in the maze of bookshelves. The only window in this section looked out on a side alley lined with garbage cans. No one would spot him back here. Pulling the nearest book from the shelf, he pretended to read the back cover.
“If you need assistance picking out a romance novel, I can help.”
His gaze snapped to the woman standing two feet away holding a book in each hand—the redhead from The Quilted Quail. She’d traded in her miniskirt for a pair of jean shorts, but that didn’t affect his reaction. The desire he’d felt when he’d first seen her returned full force.
“But if it’s your first time—” she continued, placing the books back on the shelf “—you might want to steer clear of erotica.”
“Erotica?” Logan glanced at the book in his hand. On the front cover was a practically nude woman lying on a bed. A man in leather pants stood next to her, holding a whip. It looked like an image out of a men’s magazine, not something he’d find on the shelf in his hometown. “Mount Pleasant sells erotica?”
“Not much,” she said grimly. “But what they do have is pretty good.”
She stepped toward him, close enough for him to smell a hint of her soft floral scent—not overpowering, but enticing—and reached for a book on the shelf above his head. The side of her breast brushed his arm, sending a red-alert signal through his body.
“If you’re looking for a classic romance, this is one of my favorites.” She held out a copy of a Jane Austen novel.
He shook his head. “Read that one in high school. It wasn’t for me.”
She placed the book on the shelf and turned to him, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “To find the perfect romance, I’ll need to know a little bit more about you.”
Was she hitting on him? It had been so long since he’d played that game, he wasn’t sure of his next move.
Tired of sitting on the sidelines waiting for his life to restart, he decided to take a chance. What was the worst thing that could happen? She’d walk away leaving him with a hard-on he wasn’t sure he was ready to act on? At least he’d have felt something other than loneliness and grief.
“Not much to tell. I’m home on leave.”
“You’re a soldier?” Her smile widened. “Let me guess. Special Forces.”
He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He couldn’t tell from her reaction if she was one of those women who jumped into bed with a man because he wore a uniform or ran in the other direction. Part of him hoped it was the former. “Army ranger.”
“No kidding?” Laughing, she scanned the shelves before selecting another paperback. “This one should be just right for you.”
She handed him the book. The cover showed a man’s naked chest with dog tags hanging around his neck.
“He’s a soldier, a SEAL, and she’s a nurse,” she said. “They have hot sex, overcome a few challenges and fall in love.”
“The hot sex part sounds good.” He set the book back on the shelf. “But I’m not looking for a fairy-tale ending.”
She handed him back the first book. “Then maybe you should stick with erotica.”
Her fingers brushed his, sending shock waves through his body. He let her hand linger a moment, not wanting to let the feeling go. Logan glanced up at her and saw the heat in her eyes. He knew he’d made the right call. Whatever was happening here wasn’t one-sided.
He shook his head. “I’m not into whips.”
“So just hot sex?” She turned back to the bookshelf and he instantly missed the physical connection. He wanted her hands on him and it didn’t matter where.
He watched her index finger tap her lips as she scanned the books. His gaze zeroed in on her mouth and for a second all he could think about was what she would taste like.
“Just sex,” he managed.
“I’m sure we can do better than ‘just sex.’ Don’t you want to leave yourself open to new experiences? We can find something wild that doesn’t include whips.”
“Don’t think I’m ready for that,” he said truthfully. He was in uncharted territory—flirting with a mysterious stranger. He should probably walk away now before it went any further.
But his feet refused to move. Excitement and anticipation pumped through him for the first time since he’d set foot in Mount Pleasant. If he couldn’t ship out with his team, maybe this was the next-best thing.
“But plain old hot sex I can handle,” he added, praying that wasn’t a lie.
She hesitated for the first time since he’d entered the store. Had he said the wrong thing? Gone too far?
“Are you going to walk away without telling me your name because I’m not into whips?” he asked, hoping to spark the laughter he’d seen in her eyes just moments ago.
“What if I told you I could convince you to give it a try?” The uncertainty disappeared, but hell if her expression wasn’t serious.
“Are you really into—”
“No, I was teasing. Whips aren’t my thing,” she said smiling. “And I’m Sadie.”
“Logan.” He ran a hand up and down the back of his neck. “But now I’m kind of curious how you’d convince me.”
Sadie laughed. The sound was like a drug. It drew him in and left him wanting more.
“I’d start by reading to you.” She took the book from his hands and opened to the middle.
“‘That’s right, baby,’” she read. “‘Harder. Please.’”
He didn’t think it was possible for him to get more turned on, but the combination of her husky voice and bright, laughing expression took him up a notch. Given that her eyes were fixed on the book, he didn’t think she’d noticed.
But that hadn’t stopped him from picking up on her response. His gaze swept over her, settling on her breasts. Either she was freezing in the unair-conditioned store or her nipples were begging for attention.
“‘I want you to drive your hard...’”
She looked up at him, catching him with his gaze locked on her chest. Shit. He quickly looked away.
“Too much for a morning reading at Main Street Books?”
“No,” he said with a dry laugh, running a hand through his hair. “It is just that I haven’t done this in a while. Flirting.”
She nodded, closing the book. “Just got out of a relationship?”
“Something like that. I’m a—”
He couldn’t say the word. For the first time in months someone had looked at him with something other than pity. If he said the word widower the laughter would vanish. And then she’d leave. He might not be sure where this was going, but he didn’t want her to disappear.
It had been over a year since he’d lost his wife to cancer. Before she’d slipped away, she’d been sick. For eighteen long months, his world had revolved around illness, pain, loss and pity—even from his teammates. Not a hint of laughter.
He wanted to move forward. After his last mission, he didn’t have a choice. His grief had distracted him at the worst possible moment. He needed to add some lightness back into his life.
“It’s a long story,” he added.
She turned her head to one side, studying him. “One that explains why you’re hiding from a group of women?”
He blinked. “How did you know?”
“I saw your covert entrance and the group of ladies across the street. Pretty sneaky. Although next time you might want to choose the nonfiction section.” Her tone was friendly, but no longer teasing. “Why are they after you?”
“I’ll tell you,” he said, determined to hear her laugh again. “But first, I need your word you won’t join forces with them.”
She lowered her voice as if they were discussing a top-secret mission. “I promise.”
“They’re trying to raffle me off to the highest bidder.”
Sadie let out a bark of laughter, raising her hand to her mouth. “And you’re not for sale?”
“No, ma’am.” He shook his head. “But those women? Man, they’re relentless. If my team found out? I’d never be able to live that one down.”
The bell over the door rang. Sadie stepped back and peered around the last bookshelf in the section. From there, he suspected she could see the front door.
“They’re in the store.” She returned to the romance/erotica section and scooped up her purse. “We need to get you out of here. We can’t have a tough soldier like you become the laughingstock of your team.”
She took his hand and pulled him along behind her. “Come with me. I’m parked out back.”
Hand in hand, Logan followed her through the bookshelf maze. He knew they weren’t in any real danger, but his heart raced. What would this wild, sexy woman do next?
Sadie froze midaisle. If his training hadn’t kicked in, he would have crashed into her, probably sending them both to the floor. As it was, she’d left him off balance.
Without warning, she pressed him against a side door between two bookshelves. He caught himself before the shock of her body against his sent them both tumbling.
“Someone’s coming,” she whispered.
Instinctively, he grabbed her by the waist and pulled her around, shielding her from view, or enemy fire. But this was a bookstore in Vermont, not a war zone. Still, he didn’t step away.
Her breasts pressed against his chest, sending his racing heart into overdrive. Her lower body fit between his splayed legs. With her heeled sandals and long legs, he would only need to lift her another inch before sliding inside—if they were naked and he was ready. At the moment, he only had one of the two working in his favor.
When he was on a mission, the adrenaline sometimes left him standing at attention. A hazard of the job. But right now it had everything to do with the woman staring up at him as if she couldn’t wait for his next move. She shifted, rocking her hips against him. There was no way she could miss the hard evidence of just how turned on he was.
Her gaze drifted to his lips, an invitation to taste. Logan groaned, lowering his head until their lips were practically touching. And he hesitated. Releasing her waist, he ran his hands through her loose wavy hair, his eyes roaming over her parted lips. He wanted to kiss her. But not here. Not like this.
She pushed up on her tiptoes, making every muscle in his body aware of just how much he wanted her. Turning her head, she brought her mouth to his ear and whispered, “I think the coast is clear. On three, let’s make a break for it. My car is the blue Prius on the left. Ready?”
He nodded, relieved and at the same time wishing the full-body contact wouldn’t end.
“One, two, three,” she said.
He stepped away, letting her slip in front of him and lead the way to their escape car.
This was crazy, but right now he didn’t care. He felt alive and more turned on than he’d been in years—a helluva long way from that lonely cliff’s edge he’d been standing on for months.
* * *
SADIE PEELED OUT of the parking lot with Mr. Ruggedly Handsome in her passenger seat. Her hands gripped the wheel, her body tense with excitement. But as soon as they turned onto the main road, guilt crept up on her. She’d come to Vermont for her sister, not to “rescue” hot soldiers from a crowd of women—especially one still reeling from a recent breakup or worse.
God, what if he was married? Sadie took her eyes off the road long enough to glance at his ring finger. Bare. She let out a breath of relief.
Still, there was a story behind that brief moment of hesitation she’d witnessed earlier. If she had to guess, a complex one. Sadie had enough problematic relationships in her life right now. If—and that was a pretty big if—she decided to have a vacation fling, it wouldn’t be with a complicated man.
But Logan was a walking five-alarm fire. The anticipation of that almost-kiss had left her body on edge. She tightened her grip on the steering wheel. Turning left, she drove the length of the block, and turned left again.
“Mind telling me where we’re going?” he asked.
“Back to the parking lot,” she said. “I think the coast is clear by now. And to set the record straight, I’m not in the habit of kidnapping men I meet in bookstores.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Logan nod. “Go straight up ahead and turn left at the next stop sign. That will get you back there. The one-way streets here are like a maze.”
“You’re from the area?”
“Born and raised,” he said. “Where are you visiting from?”
“Manhattan.”
“Long way from home,” he said.
Distancewise it was a few hours by car, but after forty-eight hours in Mount Pleasant, her home felt like a faraway world.
“My sister is having a baby.” Sadie turned right, pulling in beside a large blue truck. “She asked me to come up and lend her a hand.”
She put the car in Park and turned to him. Tension radiated off Mr. Ruggedly Handsome. His mouth formed a thin, grim line. The playful, teasing man she’d seen in the bookstore had vanished.
“You’re the writer,” he said. “The one renting Lou’s guesthouse.”
Sadie smiled. “Word travels fast.”
“Small town.” Logan opened the door. With one foot on the pavement, he turned to her. “Thanks for the rescue. And to set the record straight, I’m not in the habit of letting beautiful women kidnap me.”
His words warmed her body. “Beautiful, huh?”
“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 other 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.
Sadie watched him set the bucket down. Jeans hugged the backside she’d admired that first afternoon at The Quilted Quail and a gray army T-shirt showed off his muscular arms. Leaving the gate open, he disappeared inside. When he came back, he carried two more large blue buckets, his biceps flexing from the exertion.
Sadie bit her lip. She could return to her desk in the guesthouse and write, or she could offer to help Mr. Ruggedly Handsome with his buckets. Her brain didn’t even have a chance to vote before her legs started moving toward the barn.
She had hours to kill before dinner. She couldn’t think of a better way to spend her day than working alongside Logan, drawing him into conversation. She wanted to see him laugh again. He’d been full of humor at the bookstore, teasing her in the stacks. Then, one quick drive around town and he’d become withdrawn and quiet. Any woman in her shoes would be curious.