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  The nerves between her legs twitched at that thought. Of his hands on her, so steady and strong and calloused, of the way he’d kissed her, fingers cupped to the back of her head to position her just the way he wanted.

  Oh, God, that had been hot. It was exactly what she always wanted. He was the perfect temporary adventure, the man she was hoping for every time she flirted with a stranger at a bar. And he was Rose Bishop’s son.

  “Damn it,” she whispered.

  “Something wrong?” her dad called.

  “No! It’s fine.” She needed to concentrate. An hour or two of work, and then she could enjoy her day off. Spend some time in the garden. Do some work around the house.

  Sophie crossed her legs, smoothed down her skirt and opened the statement. Everything looked good. She took good care of the books. There’d been a hiccup when her brother had dropped out of college and played at being in charge for a few months. A hiccup that had taken years to straighten out, but everything was right as rain now. Her dad was still scraping by with his small cattle ranch, but just barely.

  It had been a much larger ranch twenty-five years ago. Thousands of acres leased and deeded. Not a lot of the acreage had been flat, but the hills had been good summer grazing. Then Greg Heyer’s wife had disappeared. His kids had needed tending. He’d let things go that summer. The next year, beef prices had plummeted. He’d sold off land and leases and cattle. The year after that, a drought had hit hard. It hadn’t let up for three years. He’d sold off more. Now he was down to a tenth of what he’d owned before, and he was almost seventy years old and hired out some of the rougher work.

  Sophie finished balancing the account and reached for the basket that held the bills. This part always made her chest tight, but it was okay. Her dad was fine. With her help, he could keep this place going for another decade if he wanted to. He didn’t seem to want to sell, and she wasn’t going to try to talk him into it. As hardscrabble as it was, this place was his life.

  “Before I forget,” her dad said, his voice just behind her in the doorway, “your mail is in the bedroom.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You should really change your address.”

  “I’m not going to stay in Uncle Orville’s house forever, Dad. I don’t want to bother changing my address just to have to change everything back again.”

  “It’s been a year, Sophie. I think you’re plenty settled into town now. Why in the world would you want to come back out here?”

  Because this was her home. Because he was her family. Because she took care of things for him and she always would.

  But living in town did have its advantages. Privacy, namely. Granted, on those occasions when she met a man who seemed to push her buttons, she preferred going back to his hotel room. It was less conspicuous that way. No neighbors to notice and comment. No lifelong acquaintances to realize who Sophie really was. Only tourists and seasonal men. Just the way she wanted it.

  Sophie opened the credit-card bill and noticed that her brother had been making a lot of ebook purchases again. It felt strange to resent the way he spent money on books. She was a librarian, after all. But it wasn’t that her brother was overspending on books, it was that he spent his time getting obsessed with learning some new skill he was convinced would make him successful. Gaming online auctions or selling Western crap on websites or starting his own sales lead business for web courses or a hundred other things that he’d purchased books about and then lost interest in. God knew what it was this time. Two years ago, he’d decided to sell mail-order tumbleweeds for people in the East throwing cowboy-themed parties. Then he’d realized he’d actually have to go out in the heat or cold and search for tumbleweeds. They were never around when you wanted them.

  “Where’s David?” she asked, thinking if he was around she’d at least ask what he was up to.

  She glanced back to see her dad’s mouth flatten. “Sleeping.”

  Still asleep at 10:00 a.m. That was practically blasphemy on a ranch. But even their dad was starting to realize that David was never going to take over the ranch. It was hard for him to accept that the remaining land would be sold someday, but there it was. David could do all the work, but he didn’t love the land. Sophie loved the place and she could stumble along well enough, but she was too indoorsy for ranching. Dresses and kitten heels had no place in a corral. Not unless a big, rough man had her pinned up against a fence and—

  Damn. Alex was going to haunt her for a long time.

  “You want me to wake him?” her dad grumbled.

  Sophie flashed him a smile. “Only if you want an excuse to get his butt out of bed.”

  He laughed. “I need his help later with the yearlings. I’d better let him get his beauty sleep or he’ll be grouching around here all day.” He leaned a hip against the counter and sipped his coffee.

  “You know, you don’t have to keep me company. I’m not a guest.”

  He shrugged one lean shoulder, and Sophie wondered if he was getting thinner. “It’s nice to talk to you. Gets a little lonely out here these days.”

  “I’m off today. Why don’t I stay and make a big lunch?”

  Her dad huffed. “That’s not what I meant. Go shopping. Go have lunch with your girlfriends. Don’t spend your day off with an old man, Sophie.”

  “I like being here.”

  “Well, I’m afraid I’ve got a busy day later. I can’t hang around all day for lunch.”

  She narrowed her eyes and watched him for a long while, trying to read his face. Was he lying just to stop her from staying around? But he gave away nothing. He just looked back at her with those pale blue eyes framed by familiar wrinkles from spending too many years in the sun.

  “Okay,” she finally conceded. “But I’ll make something good for dinner before I leave. I’ll throw it in the Crock-Pot and it’ll be ready by five-thirty.”

  “Thanks, pumpkin. You take good care of me.” He came over to give her a kiss on the crown of her head, then headed for the back door. “I’ll see you next week.”

  “Bye, Daddy.”

  Sophie tried to ignore the embarrassing amount of pride she felt at his words. She did take good care of him. She’d been doing it since she was five, and she’d be doing it until she was sixty. He needed her. She was never going to walk away from that.

  With the house quiet now, Sophie was done with the bookkeeping in no time. Next week it’d be time to take stock of supplies and order in anything they needed for winter, but today’s work was pretty simple. She tidied up the desk and headed to the kitchen to throw some meat and veggies into the slow cooker. She wouldn’t be around to make gravy, but she set out a jar of premade. That man loved gravy. Hopefully, he’d clean up the leftovers with a few slices of buttered bread while no one was looking and put a few pounds on his skinny frame by next week.

  Once she’d tidied up, Sophie went to her dad’s room, gathered up his dirty clothes and started a load of wash. She ignored her brother’s closed door. He’d have to learn to fend for himself if he was ever going to live on his own someday. But he probably never would. He’d gotten too used to being taken care of, and Sophie knew she had to take a lot of the blame for that. Something else to feel guilty about.

  Speaking of...even the thought of the word guilt led her back to Alex Bishop.

  Would she see him again? He’d seemed awfully sure that she would. And he’d been right about one thing. She did want more. A lot more.

  She wanted to be near him, wanted to feel the way her skin prickled at the very sight of him. And the way she felt small and submissive when his big hands touched her. God, the man had gorgeous hands. And arms. And tattoos.

  She wanted to lick him. Wanted to fuck him. She wanted to call and keep lying about who she was so she could see him again and do everything they hadn’t done yet.

 
She was a terrible person, but she tried her best to keep it to herself. It didn’t matter as long as no one knew, as long as no one was hurt. But this had the potential to hurt Alex, herself and both of their families.

  Not worth the hot sex, she scolded herself. But the terrible person inside her disagreed. Strongly.

  She checked over the house one more time before leaving, slamming the door in the hopes that her brother would get his lazy butt out of bed. But by the time she got into her car and started for home, she wasn’t thinking about her brother. She was thinking about Alex. Again.

  With her car window rolled down, the wind reminded her of the cool air against her body the night before. Just the ride on his bike had been a turn-on. The feel of his body guiding the beast beneath them, the way he’d fitted between her knees, the scent of his leather coat, the rumble of the engine. Then the speed. The power. The wind. The shimmering, sizzling knowledge that the ride was dangerous. Even deadly. It had all added up to the most arousing experience she’d had in years.

  And then he’d slipped his hand over her thigh. The same bolt of pure animal lust she’d felt at that touch speared through her right now.

  Sophie squirmed, then squeezed her thighs together, catching the pleasure between her legs and squeezing it tighter.

  That first touch had been a rush, but then an even larger pleasure had pulsed through her, growing bigger and bigger as his hand slid higher and higher. The knowledge that he’d touch bare skin, that he’d know, that he’d find out. She wasn’t what people thought she was. She wasn’t a shy, modest local girl afraid to venture far from home. She was naughty. She was wicked. And she loved it.

  His hand had finally found the top of her stocking. He’d discovered that secret. And unlike most men, he hadn’t missed a beat. One touch of her wickedly bare thigh, and Alex had pulled the bike over to discover whether or not she meant it. She did. She always did.

  Sophie squeezed her thighs together again, gasping at the shock of that sweet pleasure.

  God.

  She could deny anything she wanted, but he saw the truth.

  Sophie bit her lip, trying to bite back her need, but it didn’t work. She wanted to see him again. He’d touched her exactly the way she needed to be touched. He was right. She needed more.

  She slowed the car to a stop at the side of the road and calmly withdrew a tube of lip balm from her purse. She smoothed it over her abused bottom lip, then stared at herself in the mirror. Her face looked calm, but her cheeks were flushed and her eyes bright with an excitement she recognized.

  She had to tell Alex the truth, but as she slipped her sunglasses on and pulled back onto the narrow dirt road, she could no longer pretend that she regretted the lie.

  CHAPTER SIX

  ALEX TURNED HIS phone on, confirmed that only his brother had called—four times—then switched it off. The only calls he was interested in taking were about work or a certain naughty librarian. But she hadn’t called. Not that he was surprised. He’d seen that in the stubborn way she’d said “Good evening,” when she’d gotten off his bike. He’d watched until she got inside her house. She hadn’t looked back once.

  Fuck, she was hot.

  He knew he’d have to see his family today. He’d considered meeting them for dinner the night before, but then he’d seen Sophie, and he’d decided not to screw up a good evening. He’d see them on his terms, on his time, and first he wanted another glimpse of Sophie.

  She only lived a few doors down from his mother, so he parked his bike in front of his mom’s and walked toward Sophie’s little place. She might not be home. She might not want to see him. But Alex still felt a smile try to tug at his mouth as he approached.

  The smile finally won out when he spotted Sophie before he even got to her house. She was working in the flower beds along the front of her house, and looked even more prim than she usually did. Instead of a dress, today she wore khaki capris and little white sneakers and a flowered button-down shirt that almost hid her slim curves. But he knew them now. There was no hiding them. Especially when she bent over and he caught sight of the perfect rounds of her ass.

  Damn. He wanted to see her just like that, except naked and begging.

  But for now he stepped onto her front walk, avoiding her carefully tended lawn because he thought she wouldn’t like him grinding it down with his big boots. Even in September, her grass was just starting to lose its green.

  Her head rose when his boot caught a rock and kicked it toward the front stairs.

  “Oh!” The trowel dropped from her hands as she stood. “Alex.”

  He liked the pink that rushed to her cheeks. “Sophie,” he said softly, and her cheeks turned crimson, as if her name was something intimate.

  “Um, hi,” she stammered. Her eyes darted toward his mother’s house, then back to him. “Did you come to talk?”

  He leaned against the front porch banister and looked her up and down from behind his sunglasses. No one would guess in a million years that this innocent-looking woman had come like an animal last night.

  She swallowed hard. “You’re intimidating with those glasses on.”

  “Am I?” he asked.

  “Yes. I can’t see your eyes, and your mouth always looks so serious.”

  He liked making her nervous, but he still slipped off his glasses. “Better?”

  “Yes,” she said, but she still licked her lips and glanced down the street again. “Alex, I’m so sorry.”

  “You don’t need to apologize. Unless you’re about to pretend you can’t see me again.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Come on. It’ll be fun.” He lowered his voice and raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you think it’ll be fun, Sophie?”

  The color had begun to fade from her cheeks, but they blazed red again. Alex let his gaze sweep down her body and let her see him do it. Her pretty mouth parted as she drew in a quick breath. But she still shook her head.

  “I really can’t. There’s something I didn’t tell you.”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “This is a little early for ‘We need to talk,’ isn’t it?”

  But the way she worried her bottom lip let him know she was serious. And just like that, he knew what it was. Why she played so coy. Why she’d met him in secret. Why she didn’t want to go out again.

  She was seeing someone else. She was taken.

  Alex didn’t particularly care.

  “Okay,” he said. “I think I know what you’re going to say.”

  “I don’t think you do.”

  He shrugged. “Fine. We’ll talk. Go out with me, or invite me in, or I’ll take you for a ride. I’ll let you choose.”

  That snapped her eyes up to his. “Oh, you’ll let me?”

  He laughed. “Definitely. Whatever you want. You want things, don’t you?”

  She shrugged and slipped off her gardening gloves. “You’re handsome when you smile,” she grumbled.

  “But not when I don’t?”

  “No. Handsome isn’t the word I’d use then.”

  He tipped his head a little closer as if she were revealing a secret. “What word would you use?”

  He’d expected a flip answer, but she seemed to take his question seriously. Her brow furrowed as she looked up at him, and a dozen heartbeats passed before she answered. “I’d say you’re...”

  During her pause, he watched closely, studying her eyes, waiting for her answer. But it never came.

  “Get away from her!” a woman yelled from a distance.

  A strangled gasp tore from Sophie’s throat as she straightened and took two steps away from Alex. He was a little slower, checking idly over his shoulder to see what neighborhood drama was going down. An old woman was storming up the street. It took him several seconds to realize that old woman was
his mom. He still wasn’t used to the change in her.

  “Alex!” she screamed.

  Jesus. Alex shook his head. “Whatever’s about to go down, I apologize for it.”

  “Alex, I’m sorry. I meant to tell you. I swear.”

  “Tell me what?” he asked. When she didn’t answer, he looked away from his charging mother to see Sophie twisting her hands together, her face tight with something like fear. “Hey. Don’t let her scare you. She’s just—”

  “You get away from that whore!”

  “Hey!” Alex barked, swinging toward his mother as she stormed across the lawn. “Watch your mouth.”

  “I should say the same to you,” she sneered, skidding to a stop only a few feet away. Her slippers were damp and muddy around the edges. “Watch your mouth and every other part of yourself around her.”

  “Jesus.” He glanced over his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Sophie.”

  His mom snorted. “Don’t apologize to her.”

  “I will and so will you.”

  Sophie’s whisper broke through his building anger. “No. I’ll go inside. It’s fine. Just...”

  “It’s not fine,” he insisted. His mom’s insanity was spilling out all over her neighbors now. “She can’t try to pull innocent people into her deranged world.”

  “Innocent?” his mother scoffed. “Oh, my God. Innocent?” She barked out a laugh as Alex stepped forward, herding her toward the street. He was sick of this shit. He’d been sick of it his whole life.

  “Let’s go,” he ordered.

  She shook off the hand he put on her elbow. “She’s not innocent. She’s just like her mother!”

  “For God’s sake, if you think I give a damn about your neighborhood gossip, you’re even crazier than I thought.” When she froze, Alex got a grip on her arm.

  Her crazed gaze tore free from Sophie and rose to him. Her mouth gaped. “You don’t know,” she breathed.

  “No, I don’t, and I don’t care to.”