Command Control. Sara Jane Stone
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.”
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.