Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
RORY
I never realized I could hate a job as much as I hated this one. I knew if I told my sisters how I felt, they’d assume it was because of our daddy. And while, yes, he definitely played a huge role in it, the truth was, it bored me to tears.
All I did all day was sort files, corral an overflowing inbox—both in person and email—and reschedule appointments. I fetched forms and dealt with so much paperwork, I had at least five paper cuts on my hands at any given time. I was constantly busy, but I wasn’t the least fulfilled.
“You listenin’ to me, Rory?” my daddy snapped, his patience gone sometime around 1972.
“Yes, sir. You’d like me to rearrange your meetings and schedule you and Sheriff Halsey a tee time for two this afternoon.”
Never mind that I’d be redoing work he’d just—as in, mere hours ago—asked me to complete. But sure, I’d redo that. No problem at all. I loved running around like a hamster caught in a wheel.
“Well…all right, then. When you reschedule those meetings, don’t tell ’em I’m goin’ golfin’, though. That’d do nothing but get their underwear in a bunch. Just tell ’em…” He leaned back in his plush, leather desk chair and swiveled from side to side, fingers tapping on the arm. “Tell ’em…”
“I’ll take care of it, Daddy. Nothing to worry about.” Wasn’t the first time—and certainly wouldn’t be the last—I’d had to lie so Mayor Haven could shirk his responsibilities in favor of an afternoon spent on the links.
He smiled. “Course you will. Just knew you’d be perfect for this job, Rory. Get to use that brain of yours a bit!”
If by using my brain he was referring to when I secretly sketched design ideas at my desk, then yes. Definitely.
Because manners had been ingrained in me for the entirety of my thirty-three years, and because I really did owe my daddy for giving me this job since I wasn’t qualified for much else, I returned his smile. “Thanks again, Daddy, for givin’ me this opportunity.”
He hummed. “You know you wouldn’t have had to work here at all if you’d just taken that check from your momma and?—”
I stood, gathering my papers and tablet in my hands. “I appreciate it. You know I do. But I prefer to do things on my own this time.” I shuffled toward the door. “If there’s nothing else?”
He stared at me for a beat before tipping his chin. “That’s it for now. You let me know if you’re able to get us in at that time.”
“Will do.” I turned and strolled to my desk, my head held high, even though it felt like a giant boulder had lodged itself inside me.
I tried to remind myself that my daddy had offered— continued to offer—that money because he loved me and the girls and wanted the three of us to continue living the lives we’d grown accustomed to. Daddy excelled at throwing money at situations that were out of his control.
I wanted to believe he did it out of love, but in my heart, it felt like confirmation that he didn’t see my worth. Didn’t believe in me. Didn’t see me being able to succeed at anything but being a stay-at-home mom. Which, heavens knew, was hard work. The hardest, most demanding work I’d ever done. But it wasn’t the right work for me .
If there was one thing I’d realized since this situation with Sean had transpired, it was that somewhere along the way, I’d lost myself. Had settled deeply into the role of wife and mother and daughter, and had somehow forgotten how to just be me. And I owed it to myself to explore that. To find out who I really was without all the other labels tacked to my name.
I slipped into my desk chair in my open office, the dull ache between my legs making itself known. Again. It’d done that more times than I could count since I’d gotten in this morning, and each time it did so, it reminded me I’d done a bit of finding myself last night.
As earth-shattering as the evening had been, I’d woken up this morning to cold sheets and an empty bed. I should’ve been expecting it. I should’ve been relieved. Starting something with Nash was the last thing I needed to be doing. Especially when I was desperate to get my design business off the ground since my freedom from town hall and the tedious day-in-and-day-out monotony was on the line. And he was a stepping stone to that very dream.
But instead of feeling relief when I’d found the space next to me bare, I’d felt this odd sort of longing deep in my chest. An ache I wasn’t quite sure how to fill. An ache I wasn’t quite sure I should fill.
I’d experienced a whole lot of firsts with Nash last night, but possibly the most powerful of all had been the notion that sex could be so much more than just a chore. It could be tingly and bone-melting and amazing. And if given enough grace and patience from a partner, I could enjoy myself too. I hadn’t known my body could work like that. Could respond to another’s touch as well as—better than—my own.
Nash had proven me wrong, and he’d done it all with a smug smile on his too-handsome face.
I’d just hung up from setting up the tee time for my daddy when Mac’s voice greeted me from down the hall.
“I swear, just walkin’ down the street takes ten minutes in this town, ’cause everybody wants to—” Mac jerked to a stop as she rounded the corner into my office. She pointed a finger and twirled it in my direction. “What’s happening here?”
It was only the years of practice at hiding my emotions that allowed me to maintain a blank expression on my face, greeting my sister with a bland smile. On the inside, though, I was in full-on panic mode. What did Mac see when she looked at me? Had it really been that long since I’d had sex that, now that I had, it was written all over my body language? Heavens, I’d walked down the street like this! Looking all sexed up for everyone and their dog to see.
I swallowed down my horror and smiled at my sister. “Nothing outta the ordinary’s happened, so I’m not sure what you mean.”
Mac only grew more suspicious at my denial, her eyes narrowing as she stepped farther into the office and dropped her purse on one of the chairs in front of my desk. “I’m talkin’ about your hair. You left it down, and you never wear it down at work.” She braced her hands on my desk and leaned forward, scrutinizing every inch of my face. “What are you talkin’ about?”
“Oh.” I tucked my hair behind my ear, willing my cheeks not to bloom with heat. Turned out staying up until all hours of the night to engage in bed-rocking sex wasn’t conducive to an early wake-up call. I hadn’t even had time to wash my hair this morning in the shower, let alone style it. “I read somewhere that wearing your hair in updos too often can lead to premature hair loss.”
From the look Mac shot me, that sounded about as good out loud as it did in my head, but I certainly couldn’t tell my sister the actual reason I hadn’t had enough time to put my hair in a twist. That’d go over about as well as a fart in church.
“Did you now?” Mac stood to her full height and crossed her arms over her chest. “And where was that?”
“Um…where?”
“Mhmm. Where did you see this claim? Sounds like something I should be readin’ up on.”
Well, shit. I hadn’t thought this through, and I certainly hadn’t imagined Mac would press me on it. But if there was one thing I’d learned from my years as a mom, it was being able to lie on the spot.
“It was in that stack of old magazines Momma gave me when she cleaned out the porch. I’ll look for it tonight and get it to you.”
Never mind what an impossible task that’d be, considering there was no such article. There wasn’t even a stack of magazines from our momma. What was happening to me? All this twisting and turning and bald-faced lying just to keep?—
“Mornin’, ladies.” Nash strolled into my office like he didn’t have a care in the world. Like his mouth hadn’t been all over my breasts only eight hours ago. “Y’all’re lookin’ beautiful as always.”
“Well, if it ain’t Nash King, Mr. Sweet-Talker.” Mac turned toward him with a smile.
“Sweet-Talker?” Nash dropped into one of the chairs in front of my desk, hooking his arm over the back, casual as you please. “You know that as recently as yesterday, I got told I had quite the dirty mouth on me?” With a grin that spelled trouble with a capital T, he shot me a wink. “You believe that, Rory?”
I choked on nothing but air and started sputtering, fumbling around for something to do with my hands other than strangling Nash.
Mac laughed, shooting me a quick glance, probably to ensure I hadn’t inhaled my own tongue. “I think just about everyone would believe that.”
He rested his hand over his heart. “You wound me, Mac.”
“Yeah, I bet.” She rolled her eyes and shuffled her purse out of the way to sit. “What’re you doin’ here?”
I busied myself with whatever I could find on my desk. Random papers? Time to go ahead and alphabetize them. Backward. That should keep my mind occupied enough not to blurt out something highly inappropriate in front of the guy who’d had his cock and tongue inside me, and my sister who couldn’t know anything at all about the aforementioned acquaintance.
Of course, I had known the time would come when I’d have to interact with Nash in a business setting. He was at town hall all the time, securing the proper permits and such. I just thought I’d have more than a couple of hours to get used to the fact that he knew what I looked like naked. That he knew what it felt like to be inside me. That he knew what sounds I made when I came.
Sweet fancy Moses, he knew what sounds I made when I came .
“…and since I can’t figure out a way to get it all in at once, I thought I’d swing by to see if Rory had any ideas.”
I snapped my head up at the sound of my name, the tail end of what Nash had been saying seeping into my brain. It reminded me of all the “getting it in” we’d had to do last night and caused all sorts of completely inappropriate things to happen to my lady business. Oh, this was not good. Not good at all .
“I’ve no doubt y’all’ll be able to work it all in,” Mac said without a hint of humor, and I nearly fell off my damn chair.
“Excuse me?”
“Aw, c’mon, Rory.” Mac shot me an encouraging smile. “Now’s not the time to be humble. I’m sure Nash is thrilled to have you on his team because you’re so good at handlin’ big jobs and makin’ sure the hard things fit when there’s no way they should.”
“She is awfully good at that, isn’t she?” Nash asked, his eyes positively gleaming as he regarded me.
When Mac wasn’t looking, I shot Nash a glare—one I hoped like hell said he’d better knock it off right that second. By the time Mac faced me again, I’d replaced my laser death eyes with what I hoped passed for a confident smile.
“I’m, well—” I cleared my throat and forced myself to meet Nash’s gaze head on. We were talking about one of our potential jobs, that was all. We most certainly were not talking about what he was packing behind his zipper and how hard he’d had to work to sink that entire length inside me.
“I’m happy to brainstorm ways we can make it work,” I finally said. “I’ll do anything I can to help.”
“Anything?” He leaned back in the chair, his left ankle braced on his opposite knee, as if he weren’t turning my panties into a mess just by twisting around a few words. “I had no idea you were willin’ to be so hands-on.”
Now he was just taunting me.
With narrowed eyes, I snapped, “I’m only hands on when I need to be.”
Silence fell over the room, and Mac darted her eyes between the two of us. “Umm…”
I placed my palms on my desk and took a deep breath to calm myself down. “Much as I’d like to help you right now, Nash, I’m on town hall time, so it’ll have to wait until later.”
“Of course. Sorry ’bout that. I don’t wanna interrupt before you can finish what you need to.” Nash stared at me with a look so blatant in its sexual undertone, I was surprised my panties didn’t spontaneously combust. “Anyway, I bet I can figure out a way to get it done on my own.”
And then he winked, the annoying, infuriating, aggravating, flirty bastard.
I huffed out a breath, grinding my teeth to keep from saying anything. Mac’s interest in our exchange had already been piqued, and she didn’t try to hide it as she studied the two of us. Great, that was all I needed—I’d finally gotten some action, but now my sister was hot on my trail like a bloodhound.
Hoping to serve as a distraction, I stood abruptly, nearly knocking my chair over. “Mac, we should head out for lunch if we wanna beat the noon crowd.”
“That’s why I stopped by, actually.” Mac stood and grabbed her purse. “Finn asked me if I could come in early because someone called in sick. Rain check?”
“Oh. Well.” I curled my fingers into fists at my side, forcibly lowering myself back into my chair. “A rain check is fine. Just let me know when.”
“All right.” Mac shot a look to Nash before settling her gaze back on me, her brow furrowed. “You okay?”
“Me? Course I am! Everything’s right as rain.”
“If you say so.” Mac punched Nash in the shoulder. “Y’all have fun. Gimme a call when you get off.”
Too shocked, I couldn’t tame the high-pitched squeak that came out of my mouth. “ What ?”
Shit, shit, shit. Mac was like frickin’ Nancy Drew, sleuthing out illicit affairs after only fifteen minutes in the presence of the sinners. Why was she wasting her talents bartending at The Willow Tree when she obviously should open her own detective agency?
Mac shot me a look that very clearly said What the fuck ? “Yeahhh… A call? On the phone? When you get off work? Any of these words ringin’ a bell for ya?”
“Oh, right. Sure, I will. Soon as I get—um, soon as I leave.”
“Oooookay, then. Bye, y’all.”
When Mac disappeared around the corner, I glared at Nash, all the things I wanted to tell him running through my mind. Like, he shouldn’t be in my office, he should’ve warned me he was stopping by, he should’ve behaved like a respectable human being instead of the shameless ass he seemed to excel at. But I’d be damned if I broke the silence first.
“That’s too bad about your lunch plans,” he said.
“Did you need something, or did you come by just to drive me up a flippin’ wall?”
He smiled, the jerk. “I’d intended to get a building permit application from you, but my plans seem to have changed.”
“And how’s that? You got here and decided it’d be more fun to mess with my head?”
He dropped his leg and leaned forward, bracing his forearms on my desk. “No, actually,” he said, his voice low and rumbly enough to make my nipples perk up. He’d sounded just like that when he’d woken me up at four this morning with his mouth between my thighs. “I got here, saw all that pretty hair tumblin’ down your back, and now I can’t stop thinkin’ about what it’d look like all wrapped up in my fist while I fuck you.”
As if he’d conjured the image straight into my mind, it flickered to life immediately, and the heat between my legs that’d been a near constant since he’d arrived bloomed hotter. “ Nash .”
His gaze never wavered, his eyes speaking all the things he wanted to do to me without him ever having to say a word. “Yeah, that’s another thing I can’t stop thinkin’ about—how you say my name when I’m inside you.”
“Nash King, that’s enough ,” I hissed. “My daddy’s in the other room! You can’t just come into my place of business and start talkin’ to me like?—”
“Thanks for your help, Rory, but I better get goin’,” he said, loud enough to be heard in half the offices in town hall. “I’ve only got a bit of time before I’ve gotta be on my next job. I wanna grab something to eat while I’ve got a chance.” He raised his eyebrow in silent question, his head tipped toward the parking lot. “Hopefully my favorite’s on the menu today.”
Oh my heavens… Was that my overactive imagination working and spinning his words into something dirty? Or was he actually talking about…having me for lunch?
He leaned toward me, lowering his voice so only I could hear. “What do you say, princess? Wanna see how much fun you can have in an hour?”
What did I say? What did I say? I said this was ludicrous behavior. It was something I absolutely did not do. I didn’t engage in…afternoon delights or whatever they were called. I’d never been ravenous enough for someone to stop everything I was doing just to run home and have sex in the middle of the day.
But then again, before last night, I’d never had a man look at or touch me the way he had. Never had a man worship my body as if he’d been sinning for years and was desperate for redemption.
I swallowed down my apprehension and my automatic retorts. I was bound and determined to make this the year of the new Rory. And this was definitely something new.
I reached into my bottom drawer and pulled out my purse. Stood and smoothed my hands down the front of my pressed button-down and fitted pencil skirt. I sidestepped my desk, my head held high as I strolled to my office door.
Over my shoulder, I said, “I’m headed home for lunch, but I do hope you get what you’re cravin’.”
There. That was that. I was shaking in my Jimmy Choos, my hands rattling so hard I had to grip my purse strap just to hide it. I’d played the game with Nash, had invited him over to my house without actually saying a thing. If he didn’t come, I could play it off like it was nothing.
But if he did… If he showed up with his mussed hair and his sex eyes and that mouth that was made for sinning…
Well.
Well, then it looked like I was starting something up with Nash King. And whatever that something was included midafternoon sex.
A wave of giddiness bubbled up inside me, and I didn’t even try to hide the smile that tipped up the corners of my mouth. I practically skipped to my car. And for once, when I greeted the townspeople with a grin as I passed, the happiness shown on my face was genuine.