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Since when did men withhold sex until you agreed to be in a relationship with them? What kind of backward ass town was this?
“I don’t want to go.” The intensity in his voice sent a shiver down her spine. When he took a step closer, placing himself back between her thighs, the air electrified around them. “In fact, the last thing I want to do right now is leave.”
“Then what do you want?” Her voice came out in a breathless whisper.
Next thing she knew, his forehead was on her again, pushing against her own. “You know what I want.”
She let her eyes flutter closed as she breathed him in. Why was he doing this? Why did he have to want more?
When she didn’t reply, he continued.
“I want my mouth back on you, Libby.” She kept her eyes shut. Letting his husky words wrap around her. Embracing the goosebumps. “I want your sexy as fuck legs spread.” Holy mother of shit-balls. “I want to spend all damn night tracing every inch of you with my tongue. And I don't want to stop until you’re dripping down onto my chin.”
Did he really just say that?
“But as I’ve already told you ... that’s not gonna happen. Not tonight. Not until you agree to be mine.”
Alarm bells were ringing in her head again. Step away from the hot fireman.
No matter how tempted she was, self-preservation was much more important. This guy had heartbreaker written all over him. That scared her more than how badly she craved him. It was time to back the hell up.
Can you say mother issues much?
The problem with being pinned to a kitchen countertop is that you’re stuck. You can’t take a step back. Run away. Or even fake a heart attack. Libby really wished she could fake a heart attack right about now.
“I can’t do that. You know I can’t do that. Anything else ... but not that.” So much for the alarm bells. She was going rogue.
“Anything else?” Zach asked suspiciously as his brows knitted together.
“Yeah. I can carry on being your friend or ...”
“Or?”
“Or we can do this.” She gulped, as blazing blue eyes burned into her. Okay. It was a good thing you couldn’t spontaneously combust from a look. “No strings; no promises; wham, bam, thank you ma’am, shut-the-door-on-your-way-out casual.”
A lopsided grin tipped Zach’s lips. Good. Her not-so-subtle description had managed to slice through at least some of the thickness in the air.
“But not both?” he asked.
“No. You have to choose.” Boundaries, she reminded herself. This was the right decision. He could have one or the other, but not both. Not if she was going to protect her heart.
“So you mean to say, I can’t have sex and friendship?” All traces of his smile were gone. “You expect me to bang you and then what ... leave? How does it work? Do I get a special booty call buzzer, or do you just text me an eggplant emoji when you’re ready to go again?”
His harsh words cut through her. The air was back to feeling thick. And her heart was back to pounding. Only this time, it was pounding for an entirely different reason.
“You’re an asshole.”
Desperately in need of some physical distance, she pushed at his hard chest until he stumbled backward, and she was free to escape the countertop.
She didn’t get very far though; he was back in her space within seconds. Pressing his body against hers and dipping his head until she was once again close enough to taste his smoky scent.
“I choose friendship,” he declared, his gaze fixed on her as he studied her reaction.
It was safe to say their current position didn’t exactly scream ‘let’s just be friends’, nor did the raging hard-on resting against her stomach.
“When I finally take you,” he continued, his voice dropping an octave. “I won’t be leaving after. You might never get rid of me after I get a taste of what’s between those luscious thighs of yours.”
Don’t you dare moan. Don’t give him the satisfaction.
He had to go and choose friendship, didn’t he? And she had to offer it. Like a fool. How the hell was she going to be just friends with this man? He oozed frigging sex. It dripped off of him. She hadn’t thought this through. She had been so sure he’d give in, choose casual, she hadn’t pondered the alternative. Now what was she going to do?
“Is that how you speak to all your friends?”
“Only ones that look like you, princess.” He still hadn’t moved away. Why hadn’t he moved away?
“Well ... if you wanna be friends, you’re gonna have to dial back the dirty talk. And maybe we should establish some sort of personal space bubble?” Sass was all she had. The last thing she wanted was him to see just how much him being this close was affecting her.
You think he hasn’t noticed you panting like you’ve just run a marathon?
After taking his time searching her expression, he took a single step back and nodded. “I can do that.”
Now that she could breathe again, she realized the man still had his damn shirt off. And of course, he looked like some sort of Greek Adonis. Rippling abs and all.
But that was okay. Because she was a grown woman. With willpower and everything. She was perfectly capable of having a respectable, adult friendship with Zach. The hot firefighter medic.
Yes. She was. Definitely.
Keep telling yourself that.
Too busy gawking, she didn’t reply quick enough. Resulting in Zach taking it upon himself to take the lead on their newly established friendship.
“I’m back on the rota tomorrow but I’ll be off again next Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday. I was thinking dinner again next Friday, maybe a movie too? Then on Saturday, my family’s having a barbecue, so I thought we’d stop by. Go over to the ranch.”
Whoa, whoa, whoa. Dinner and a movie? A ranch? Meeting his family? Is he high?
Thank God he’d finally decided to pick up his shirt and cover up those abs because Libby was having a hard enough time thinking as it was.
“What part of I don’t want a relationship don’t you understand, Zach? Your plans sound an awful lot like dates to me. And meeting your family ... seriously?”
He had no business flashing those dimples in her direction. And no right finding this amusing.
“You know, dinner is just a meal. If we hang out in the evening, then I’m certain at one point you’re gonna get hungry. But if you don’t want to eat with me, fine. We can grab a drink at the Tipsy Cow. And a family barbecue is hardly a date. Luke is even gonna be there, and my best friend Cody. It’s a good chance to see my ma and hang out with my friends, which is what you are now too, right?”
It's not like you have any other plans.
She did like barbecue.
“Okay. Fine.” She huffed. “But drinks only on Friday. And feel free to invite your other friends along, seeing as we’re just hanging out and all.”
Zach ignored her suggestion and instead leaned in to lay a gentle kiss on her cheek. “Can’t wait. I’ll pick you up at eight on Friday.”
“Don’t friends meet each other places, rather than being picked up?” She was grasping at straws now and he knew it.
“Do you know where the Tipsy Cow is?”
“No.”
“Then I’ll pick you up. At eight.” As she readied herself to protest, he backed away. “Sweet dreams, princess. Stay safe.”
She stood frozen as she listened to Zach let himself out. Apparently that was the end of the discussion. And their night.
***
It was Sunday. A whole day had gone by since Zach had kissed her and yet Libby still felt off balance. It was worrying. And don’t even get her started on her kitchen counter. She couldn’t even look at it without blushing.
Naturally, yesterday consisted mostly of pretending not to remember the night before. Suffice to say, it didn’t work. She couldn’t even eat breakfast at home without that damn toaster taunting her.
Avoiding her kitchen meant eating out. Eating out meant running into people. The beauty of small town living.
Anyway, that’s how she’d found herself catching up with Benny and doing her best beetroot impression every time Zach’s name was mentioned.
Seeing as Saturday’s strategy was a complete disaster, Sunday was going to be about facing her troubles head on. It started with Benny and now she was home, it continued with Cat. She’d FaceTimed her friend as soon as she got back and had spent the past twenty minutes filling her in on all the dirty details.
“You’re not seriously suggesting this friendship is a good idea, are you?” Libby asked in disbelief.
“Well, your social calendar isn’t exactly bustling.” She felt her face scrunch at Cat’s jibe. How rude. It didn’t matter that she had a point. “I mean come on, other than me, who else do you speak to?”
“I spoke to Stacey last week!” Libby protested.
“Yeah? And I bet it was about work, right? Advice on some project?” Damnit. “Thought so.”
Libby threw her head back against the sofa cushions. When did she become such a loser?
“Fine. So I don’t have loads of friends dying to hang out with me. But I have you. And the way I see it, it’s better to have quality over quantity.”
“Of course you have me.” Her friend’s face softened. “You’ll always have me. But I’m in another country, Lib. I’m not there to drag you out of the house and make sure you see sunlight.”
Libby watched as Cat let out a sigh. She then tucked a strand of her long, luscious black hair behind her ear.
“You’re a good person, Lib,” she continued. “I get why you don’t let people in, I really do. But I can’t help thinking you’re missing out. Shutting yourself off from everyone and everything. This Zach guy ... I know I don’t know him, but he’s obviously not an idiot if he recognises just how special you are. You know, a part of me is glad he’s pushing you out of your comfort zone, ‘cos heaven knows someone needs to.”
Oh God, she was going to cry. She was going to bawl her eyes out like the emotional wreckage she was and make her only friend feel even worse about being halfway across the world.
“I don’t do it on purpose, Cat. It’s just hard for me to connect.”
“You connected with me,” she countered.
Libby let out a snort. “Yeah, well, you’re an exception. You’re nice and kind and you don’t judge.”
“There are other nice, non-judgemental people out there, Lib. I promise you.”
The moisture her eyes had been battling with finally broke free and trickled down her cheeks. She missed her friend. She missed hanging out. Having fun. When was the last time she’d gone out and actually had fun?
You have fun with Zach.
Goddamnit, even her brain had jumped ship. Where was the loyalty?
“What was that? That look?” Stupid FaceTime had Cat’s beady blue eyes all over her.
It was Libby’s turn to sigh. “I was thinking of how much I miss you. How I’m sorely lacking in the fun department without you. And then I realized how much I’ve enjoyed hanging out with you-know-who.”
“And why do you look so upset about that?” Cat tilted her head as she asked the question.
“Because ...” she paused to let out a weary breath. “Because ... he’s not a friend. He can’t be my friend.”
“’Cos you wanna shag him?” Cat’s devilish smile almost had her own lips twitching. Almost.
“Ding, ding, ding ... I’m officially fucked.”
“Or not so much, as the case may be.” Her friend laughed.
Okay. So she may have been able to squeeze out a smile from Libby’s royally screwed soul.
Yeah. She was totally screwed.
Maybe we can try this whole denial thing again?
***
It turns out trying to distract herself made Libby scarily productive. By Wednesday, she was up to date on a week’s worth of work. Who knew a little tonsil tennis could be so motivational?
With a whole work-free afternoon ahead of her, she decided to take the time to explore her new hometown. Other than a couple of visits to Farm n’ Fresh and Molly’s diner, Libby hadn’t spent much time in the town center. But that was about to change. Today was the day she ventured out. She was even considering talking to actual people.
Living life on the edge, as always, Libby.
Letting the heat soak into her skin, she continued down the uneven terracotta sidewalk. One thing was for sure, the population of Woodvalley Pines certainly had a thing for antiques. She’d counted at least three stores now, each of them displaying some very questionable items. She was no expert by any means, but she was pretty sure a cassette player was definitely not an antique. Not yet anyway.
The one place that did look awfully inviting was a cotton candy-painted bakery. Libby’s eyes went straight to the pink neon sign. It was hanging above a window display of mouth-watering cupcakes and pastries. Fairy Baked looked like her kind of shop. And that smell. The sugary sweet, yeasty aroma wrapped around her like a warm hug.
Following her nose through the double doors, she was greeted with an equally warm smile.
“Well hello, sugar, welcome to Fairy Baked! Feel free to take a look around and just give me a shout if you need anything.” The petite redhead flashed her a toothy grin and a wink before going back to filling the display cases with fresh cakes.
Libby didn’t need time. As soon as she saw the words “lemon biscuit cupcake”, she was sold. She would not last another minute on this earth without trying this lemony, buttery, biscuity concoction.
“Can I have one of these, please?” Her fingers hovered over the glass, pointing straight at her chosen cake.
“Of course you can, sweetie.” More smiles were exchanged as the woman began boxing up the cake. “You’re new in town, right? You just visiting or ...?”
Here we go. Be nice. This will count as your social interaction for the day. Or week.
“Yep, very new. Um, well, the plan is to stick around for a while. My aunt Cynthia left me her place, it’s just a few miles from here.” Open. Friendly. She totally nailed it.
“Cynthia was your aunt? Oh my, I had no idea.”
“You knew her?”
“Knew her? Damn girl, without Cynthia, Fairy Baked might not even be standing here today.” Libby wasn’t expecting that. She had so many questions. But she didn’t have a chance to ask them because the sparky woman before her had already started launching into her story.
“See. It took a long time for the business to start making money, and she helped me at a time when I was really struggling. She used to tell me she just had a thing for my strawberry shortcake, but I knew no one could possibly eat that much of it without going into hyperglycaemic shock!” Libby found herself grinning at the thought of her aunt bulk buying cake. “Anyway, I found out later on that she’d been giving it away, along with my business cards.”
That sounded just like her aunt. Going out of her way to help anyone and everyone.
When Libby didn’t reply, the woman continued. “I was so sorry to hear she passed. I was looking out for her service, to say goodbye, but I didn’t hear about one. Don’t tell me I missed it?”
“Oh, no. No. You didn’t miss it,” Libby assured the woman. “Cynthia actually stipulated in her will she didn’t want any sort of service. I was her only living family so ... she, uh, she was cremated, and she asked for her ashes to be spread in the valley.”
The redhead’s astute sapphire eyes took her in for a moment, clearly unsure whether or not to ask the question or questions she’d since formulated. Why had she said that? Only living family. Ashes spread in the valley. Libby never usually offered up personal information to strangers.
Except for Zach.
Maybe Zach had broken her.
I have a few ideas as to how he can make it up to me.
Stupid dirty mind.
“I’m Rachel.” That was not the reply she was expecting.
“Libby.” Her shoulders loosened as she began to relax. “Nice to meet you, Rachel.”
“You, too.” She passed her cake box over the counter, reminding Libby she should probably pay. As she reached for her purse, Rachel put up her hand to stop her. “Oh, no, your money’s no good here. This one’s on me.”
“No, I can’t,” Libby insisted. “Thank you, but I can’t. Please let me pay.”
“Nope, sorry – you’re Cynthia’s niece. Cynthia’s niece eats for free. End of discussion.” As if to make her point, Rachel shook her head so vehemently her ponytail whipped her cheeks.
Now she felt awkward. She’d always had difficulty accepting things. Whether it be compliments or gifts, it always felt odd. Like she should do or say something equally nice until they were even. Nothing was free in this life.
The woman standing across from her obviously picked up on her discomfort because she beat her to a reply. “How ‘bout in return, you buy me a drink?”
Rachel was just full of surprises. “A drink?”
Cat’s reality check was still fresh in her mind; she did need to get out more and make some friends. She just didn’t think it would be this easy. Or happen so quickly.
“Yeah, a drink. Preferably alcoholic. I close early on Sundays. How does five sound, at the Tipsy Cow?”
Wow. The Tipsy Cow really was a popular place. Looks like she would be frequenting it twice in as many days this week.
“Okay, yeah. That sounds good. Five at the Tipsy Cow. I’ll see you then.” Cradling the cake box against her dress, she offered up a final smile before stumbling out of the door.
That was enough socialising for one day. Time to go back to her cave and eat cake.
***
It was Friday night, and the Tipsy Cow was, ironically, full of tipsy cowboys. Old boys surrounded the wooden bar while younger men gathered around high-top tables.
But it wasn’t a typical cowboy bar. She’d even go as far to say that it was quirky. The first thing that had caught her eye when she’d arrived was the absurd amount of neon signs filling the walls. Each sign more random than the next. Her favorite was the pineapple. What an illuminated pineapple was doing next to a blue and pink lit alien she had no idea, but she was digging it.
“Wanna dance?” Zach smirked.
Fuck no.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Libby slurped on her diet soda, willing her body to damn well control itself.
Zach looked irritatingly hot tonight. More so than usual if that was possible. He wore a crisp white shirt that practically molded to every perfect contour of his chest. She already knew she was in dangerous territory when he picked her up. Throw in a dance, with the possibility of touching him again and she might actually cry.
“And why is that?” The mischievous glint in his eye told her he was more than aware of the answer.
“Friends don’t slow dance, Zach.”
“My friends do.”
“Okay. Fine. Next time I catch you and Benny swaying up a storm on the dance floor, I’ll consider dancing with you.”
A husky snigger caused shivers to race down her arms. Damnit. “What are you so afraid of?”
Nothing. Everything. Libby was sure she’d never wanted a man as much as she wanted this one. But maybe the appeal was only because she couldn’t have him.
“I think it’s important that we have some sort of boundaries.” She cleared her suddenly dry throat. “Especially after what happened the other night.”
Zach hummed to himself, his expression turning more serious as he took her in. Just as she started to squirm at his attention, he spoke again. “You mean after I was wedged between your thighs, enjoying the best damn kiss of my life?”
Jesus Christ. There was no smile. No smirk. No trace of humour lacing those words as his big blue eyes seeped into her skin.
Libby darted her gaze to the drink in front of her. He made her feel so stupidly unbalanced; it was getting to be a problem. She needed to take a moment. She did so by staring at her fingers as they swiped over the condensation covering her glass, trying her hardest to ignore the now very charged silence that hung heavily in the air.
“Princess.” She watched as his fingers curled around her own. “Look at me.” When she didn’t comply with his request, he softened his voice. “Please?”
After one deep exhale, their eyes met again. The way he was looking at her was intoxicating.
“I’m sorry. That was out of line.” She could not only hear his sincerity, but she could see it in his stare. “It won’t happen again. I swear.”
Disappointment churned in her gut. She wanted him to remind her of what happened. Not because she would ever forget. No. It was so he could remember. After all, there was still a chance he could change his mind. Then they could drop this whole friendship act and stop pretending they didn’t want to rip each other’s clothes off.
It was a win-win situation. They could both scratch their itch until it was out of their systems, then she could go back to her introverted existence in peace.
Taking that into account, she decided to poke the bear. “Best damn kiss of your life?”
A smile curled up Zach’s lips. Sincerity was quickly replaced by pure heat. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Makes you wonder if we’re cut out for this whole friend thing ... doesn’t it?” She was playing with fire. That’s what she was doing. And she hadn’t even been drinking.
“That it does, princess. You thinking of accepting my offer to take you out on a date?”
“No. Are you thinking of accepting my offer?” Her own eyebrow quirked up at the sight of his raised arch.
That’s right. There was no point beating around the bush. She wanted no strings. Maybe it was time she started pushing for it. Friendship be damned. Besides, there were plenty of other people she could be friends with in this town. Ones she didn’t want to sleep with. Like cake shop lady. They were practically besties already.
“Your offer, huh? I seem to remember you giving me two choices. Sex or friendship. I’m happy with my choice, but something tells me you’re not.”
No shit. “And if I wasn’t?”
“Well, if you weren’t, there’s always a third option.”
Libby scoffed, already knowing where this was going. “Let me guess ... dating?”
“Well, that way we both get what we want.” Zach shrugged. “You get the sex and I get the friendship.”
“Yeah, like you don’t want the sex, Zach.” She rolled her eyes, and he had the audacity to laugh.
They were clearly both as stubborn as each other. Maybe she was going about this all wrong. The attraction between them certainly wasn’t one sided. She just needed to exploit his attraction to her until he gave in. How much willpower could he possibly have?
“On second thought, Zach, I would like to dance.” Before he had a chance to respond, she was out of her seat, offering him her hand.
By the look on his face, it was safe to say he knew exactly what she was up to. But he rose anyway, grasping her hand and leading them onto the dimly lit dancefloor. Taking them into the midst of the other couples who were not so subtly rubbing against each other, he pulled her close. One hand landed on his chest, while the other, now free, settled on his waist. His own hands cradled her hips and helped them sway to the rhythm.
As she lifted her head up to meet his gaze, she started to second guess herself. She initiated this. She wanted to exploit his attraction. Yet here she was, putty in his hands.
Come on, Libby. You can do this. Don’t let him turn this around on you.
Needing to take control, if only to stop the voices in her head, she snaked her hands around Zach’s neck. A gentle tug dipped his head down toward her. Her own head tipped back until their mouths were just a breath away from each other.
His eyes flared as she stared into him, he made no effort to hide from her. It was clear what he wanted. But he did nothing about it. So she got closer. With each step, she pressed her curves against his, creating an electrifying friction.
“You think one dance is gonna change my mind?”
Busted.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Sure you don’t.”
Proving once again how not in control Libby was, Zach’s fingers drifted up and down the length of her back, igniting a trail of anticipation in their wake. Next, he tilted his head, bringing his mouth to her ear. As his hot breath hit her, much to her dismay, her body responded. And he definitely noticed.
“If you think for one second that I don’t want to peel off this hot little dress of yours and bury myself so deep inside of you that every breath you take is a gasp of my name. Then you’re wrong.”
Fuck me. Literally.
She tried desperately to remain composed as he continued his verbal onslaught.
“That’s all I want to do, Libby. Every second of every day. Your hands on me isn’t gonna change that. Or make me want you more than I already do. Trust me, it’s not goddamn possible, princess. You hear me?”
In an embarrassing twist, she groaned her reply. Actually groaned. Right there on the dancefloor. Like a sex-crazed animal who was too far gone for actual words. And he wasn’t done with her yet. Biting down on her earlobe, she let out a gasp which quickly morphed into a whimper as his tongue darted out to soothe the sting.
“We had a deal, darlin’. Friends. Nothing more and nothing less. If you want more than that, then we play by my rules. You already know my terms. All you have to do is say the word.”
No. No. And hell no.
Luckily, she was far too stubborn to give in to her starved libido.
Moving her abused ear away from Zach’s scandalous mouth, she twisted until they were face to face again. This time, she let her nose brush against his and her mouth hover so close she could already taste the tingles. She didn’t move. Didn’t speak. She simply let her breath tease his lips.
It was only when his breathing grew shallow that she allowed a smile to tip up one side of her mouth.
Finally.
Closing the minuscule distance, she let her lips graze his and spoke into him, trying her best to push aside the overwhelming need that surged through her as their mouths met again.
“Okay, Zach. Friends it is.”
Once she was sure she was going to leave him panting, she broke their connection. All it took was one very large step back. Turns out physical distance really did make all the difference. She could finally think straight again.
This wasn’t over, though. He only thought he had control. Judging by his current pained expression, he was hanging on by a thread.