Chapter 9 #2
“This can’t happen,” he said quietly. “Whatever you think you see, whatever you’re offering... I can’t.”
“I know,” I said, even though a part of me was disappointed. “You’ve got your position to think about. Your reputation. Your father’s legacy.”
His eyes snapped back to mine. “How did you—”
“Beau might have mentioned something,” I admitted. “Not details. Just that you’re carrying a lot of weight that isn’t necessarily yours to carry.”
Marcus let out a long breath, running a hand through his hair. Without the hat, I could see it was slightly damp with sweat despite the air conditioning. “My father was a good man. He served this town for thirty years. Everyone respected him.”
“But you’re not him,” I said.
“No,” he agreed, something sad flickering in his eyes. “I’m not.”
We stood there in silence for a moment, and I wanted so badly to close the distance between us. To show him that it was okay to want what he wanted, to be who he was. But I knew that would only make things worse. Marcus Webb wasn’t ready for that. Maybe he never would be.
“We should finish the measurements,” I said finally. “Pants off please.”
He swallowed hard, and I watched his Adam’s apple bob. For a second, I thought he might bolt again, just run right out of his own house and leave me standing there with my measuring tape. But instead, he reached for his belt buckle with shaking fingers.
“Okay,” he said, so quietly I almost didn’t hear him.
I stepped back to give him space, keeping my expression neutral even though my heart was pounding.
This was different from yesterday. Yesterday had been panic and embarrassment.
Today felt like something else entirely.
Like he was making a choice, consciously deciding to trust me despite every instinct telling him to run.
He unbuckled his belt and pushed his jeans down, stepping out of them carefully.
Navy blue boxer briefs this time, and I could already see the outline of his half-hard cock straining against the fabric.
He wasn’t even trying to hide it anymore.
And the little wet spot at the tip of his cock told me he’d been anticipating this moment with excitement for a while.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered, not meeting my eyes. “I can’t help it.”
“Marcus.” I waited until he looked at me. “Stop apologizing. There’s nothing wrong with being attracted to someone.”
“There is when you’re the sheriff and everyone in town is watching your every move,” he replied bitterly.
He had a point. A good point, actually. This attraction between us, whatever it was, could cost him a lot. Not to mention, it had an expiration date stamped on it from the beginning. I was going back to New York. He was staying here, trapped by duty and legacy and fear.
But maybe… just maybe, that was our saving grace.
“You’re right,” I admitted, kneeling down in front of him with the measuring tape. “This is complicated. But that doesn’t mean it’s wrong.”
I ran the tape up the inside of his leg, slower than necessary, and heard his breath hitch. When I glanced up, his eyes were fixed on me with an intensity that made my own cock twitch in response.
“You know, I’m only going to be here for three more weeks,” I said softly. “Nothing is going to stop me from going back to New York. I have a career and a life that I love.”
Marcus furrowed his brows. “Okay… What are you saying?”
“I’m saying,” I continued, taking the measurement from his other leg. “That I’m a bit lonely here and I wouldn’t mind a little bit of… distraction.” I sat back on my heels, looking past his straining cock and up to his green eyes. “No strings, no declarations, and nobody has to know.”
I watched his throat work as he swallowed, his green eyes searching mine like he was trying to figure out if I was serious or just messing with him. The air between us felt thick, charged with possibility.
“A distraction,” he repeated slowly, like he was testing the word on his tongue.
“Yeah.” I kept my voice steady even though my heart was hammering against my ribs. “I’m stuck in this town with nothing to do but plan a wedding and critique Dolly’s coffee. You’re stuck here pretending to be someone you’re not. We could... help each other out.”
His jaw clenched, and for a moment I thought I’d pushed too far. That he was going to tell me to get the hell out of his house and never come back. But then something shifted in his expression, something that looked almost like relief.
“Nobody would know?” he asked, his voice soft.
“Not unless you tell them.” I stood up, bringing us face to face again. Close enough that I could see the flecks of gold in his green eyes, could count the individual stubble hairs along his jaw. “I’m good at keeping secrets, Marcus. It’s kind of a professional requirement in my line of work.”
He stared at me for what felt like an eternity, and I could practically see the war happening behind his eyes. Duty versus desire. Fear versus need. Everything he’d been taught versus everything he actually wanted.
“Just think about it. Nothing has to happen today,” I said, turning back to pull his suit from the hanger. “Now put this on so I can pin it in place.”
He nodded, his body still stiff as he took the jacket from me. “I… I’ll think about it.”