Make Me Blush

  OIL BARRONS BOOK 3

  MARIE JOHNSTON

  LE PUBLISHING

  Copyright © 2022 by Marie Johnston

  Editing by Evident Ink

  Proofing by MBE, Judy’s Proofreading, and Deaton Author Services

  Cover by Shanoff Designs

  Photographer: Wander Aguiar

  Model: Andrew

  * * *

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  The characters, places, and events in this story are fictional. Any similarities to real people, places, or events are coincidental and unintentional.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  About the Author

  Also by Marie Johnston

  Emery

  * * *

  Dating is my last priority when I move my kids to a small town after a sudden divorce. It’ll be easier to be a single, working mom of four, and I won’t have to watch my ex with my former coworker. So when I get away for a night to throw myself a nice little pity party in a neighboring small town, I don’t expect to get hit on by the tastiest guy I’ve ever seen.

  * * *

  We talk about everything but the important stuff. I live a little and steam up his backseat windows. I’ll never see him again, so why not? But I forgot what a small world Coal Haven can be.

  * * *

  Holden

  * * *

  I don’t like my reputation of being a commitment-phobe, but I earned it. So why can’t I forget the woman who slipped out of the back seat of my pickup—and my life—in the most effortless way possible? I barely got her first name.

  * * *

  When my cousin coerces me into coaching an elementary school football team, I give in. But I come face to face with my hookup…and she’s my worst nightmare wrapped in all my wildest fantasies. A single mom with no time for me or my BS. Maybe it’s time to get more than her first name.

  One

  Emery

  * * *

  I worked on catching my breath as I tugged up my pants in the back seat of a pickup that wasn’t mine. My orgasm-numbed brain logged back into my good sense.

  What had I done?

  My elbow poked a hard rib. Jeez, was there anything on this guy that wasn’t chiseled from granite? “Sorry.”

  “No problem.” Holden leaned back in his seat to button his pants.

  At least I knew his name.

  I mimicked Holden’s movements, trying to suck my gut in so I could get my leggings up all the way. The struggle of getting dressed in the back seat of a pickup dimmed the postcoital glow I’d probably be too panicked to enjoy anyway.

  Could I even call this a one-night stand? I was in my thirties. I thought I was long past my back-seat-sex days.

  I straightened my bra and rolled my shirt down. Some of my hair had fallen out of my topknot. I puffed it out of the way and caught Holden’s eye.

  He’d righted his clothing and was reclining against the door, his arm slung across the headrest. His satisfied expression resonated down to my toes as if he hadn’t just had my entire body throbbing.

  The darkness of the cab covered the flush warming its way up my neck to my face. What the hell had I done?

  Other than have some amazing sex with a guy I’d just met. In the back seat of his really nice pickup, no less.

  I didn’t know what he’d done with the condom. I didn’t—God, I didn’t know anything about this. I didn’t go to bars. I didn’t do one-night stands or hookups. Even worse, I had no clue how to extract myself from this moment.

  And I had no idea if it was bad that I didn’t want to.

  He didn’t appear to be in a rush to leave. The way he was sitting was like an invitation. I could curl up next to him. We could stick to safe topics like we had in the bar. Where we’d gone to college. What we’d majored in. College sports teams.

  Maybe we could have sex again.

  Whatever impulsive streak possessed me to leave the little bar with him and hook up in the darkness of his pickup cab had vanished. I was the responsible one in my life. I had to be.

  Stricken with self-consciousness and unsure what to do next, I said, “So…”

  His laugh was good natured. “You were serious when you said you don’t do this.”

  I didn’t have sex, period. Not since long before my divorce when I learned my cheating husband was banging the young nurse I’d been training. I wasn’t spared from the stereotype. My husband hadn’t been an arrogant surgeon when I met him. He’d saved that for after I had worked to support him while he was going through medical school and his residency. He’d waited until I carried his ass to a stellar paycheck—then he’d fucked someone younger, perkier, and more clueless.

  My temper flared and there it was, that impulsive streak. I had the urge to strip Holden down and lick the muscles that had flexed behind me when he’d been thrusting us to a simultaneous climax.

  Like…I didn’t know that was possible.

  My ex hadn’t been horrible in the bedroom. He’d gotten me off. I’d gotten him off. But we’d reached a place where the spontaneity and excitement were rare and other obligations were numerous.

  Still, I’d been happy. Mostly. In the overstressed way that a couple can be happy when doing demanding shift work and trying to keep the magic in our relationship.

  “No, I really don’t do this,” I admitted. “What comes next?”

  I didn’t have to go. Tonight was my night. The one night I gave myself to go out and have a little pity party. My plan had been to have a couple drinks and get pissed at life.

  But before I had finished my first beer, Holden had entered the bar. I didn’t think a guy like him would acknowledge me. It wasn’t like I’d dressed up. Technically, I lived in a neighboring town. I had just moved to Coal Haven and hadn’t wanted my pity party to be witnessed by people I might see the next week in the clinic. So I’d come to Crocus Valley in my leggings, a T-shirt, and a jacket, and found a quiet bar.

  “We could stay here.” His lopsided grin sent tingles through my body. Did he take a bath in sex appeal every morning? Or was I in that much of a dry spell? “If we go back in the bar, the other two customers would guess what we’ve been up to.”

  “Are you saying I can’t be chill?” I gave him a playful scowl. Was I flirting? When had I last flirted? Maybe that was why I was divorced. The thought sobered me.

  Holden’s easy laugh swooped in for the rescue. “Nah, Em, not saying that. But we should wait for the flush to leave your cheeks.”

  I touched my hot face. I did get red when I orgasmed. My neck was probably all blotchy too. No, I’d never play it chill.

  He brushed my cheek with the backs of his fingers. “I like it.” He dropped his voice to a rumble. “Cuz I put it there.”

  “Yeah, you did.” We both snickered like middle schoolers.

  “You’re fun, Em.”

  “You’re the only one who thinks that on the face of this earth.” Because he didn’t know me or the obligations Henry bitched about when I asked him why he’d checked out of our marriage.

  “If you’re talking about your ex, I can tell you he’s wrong.”

  Holden had noticed the tan line on my ring finger when we’d first started talking. My divorce was as far in my private life as I’d gone with him, and he hadn’t pried. For the last couple of hours, I’d been freed from ruminating on my divorce and how I was going to make it work without a second income and with a mass of student loans I had to share with Henry.

  “Well, thank you.” I twisted my hands together. Would it be weird to curl up with him? To enjoy being held for a while. To pretend that I wasn’t alone for a little longer.

  Crocus Valley was quiet. Any traffic went by a block in front of the pickup. Behind the vehicle was an open lot and the railroad tracks. Holden said he liked to swing his pickup around and drive straight out when he was done at the bar. There were no buildings and no security or doorbell cameras. The privacy might’ve been more of a draw than the parking.

  Had he done this before? Wait. I didn’t care. I wasn’t interested in a relationship or dating. I had too much going on in addition to moving to a new town and starting a new job.

  Yeah, I could cuddle. He wasn’t pushing me out and looking for his next conquest. There was nothing wrong with enjoying tonight like the single woman I now was.

  I opened my mouth to ask if he minded if we just hung out in the privacy of his pickup for a while when buzzing caught my attention.

  My fleece jacket had gotten tossed on the floor when the groping began. I yanked it up and dug in the pocket. “Sorry, I gotta check this.” I
smashed my lips together in case I said more and burst the little fantasy bubble we’d created.

  I missed the call, but a message popped up. What do you want me to do for vomiting?

  “Shit.” I closed my eyes for a brief second and stuffed my phone back in the jacket pocket.

  “Everything okay?”

  If I could record his voice and play it back when I was in bed after an especially stressful day, I wouldn’t worry so much about how I was going to survive the next twenty years.

  “I don’t know. I’m really sorry. I’ve gotta go.” I wrestled my jacket on. My shirt bunched around the shoulders and not in the sexy way it’d done earlier tonight. I grabbed the door handle and gave Holden an apologetic smile.

  He quirked a brow, but I didn’t miss the doubt in his golden eyes. “Need a ride anywhere?”

  “No, I’m just around the corner.” I selfishly let my gaze devour his long, lean body. Might as well carve this moment into my memory. I wasn’t getting another opportunity. The text showed me that this was a fluke. I was given a break just to get laid, and now it was back to reality. “Uh…thanks.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said dryly, his head cocked.

  I slipped out, ignoring the doubt etched into his expression. Was he starting to think that was my MO? Play it innocent and then ditch him?

  Before I shut the door, I tried again. “I mean it. Thanks for tonight.”

  An eyebrow arched. Yeah, he didn’t believe it anymore, that this wasn’t my usual routine. I didn’t want to make things more awkward, so I shut the door and scurried to my car. By the time I reached my Traverse, the fantasy had faded. I was back in the real world.

  I sent a reply. How bad is it?

  I didn’t want to drive past where he was parked, so I made a turn in the middle of the road and headed toward my normal life. Tonight might not have meant much to Holden. He might get lost in the women he was with until he found the person he wanted for forever and never thought about me again. And long after he forgot about me, I’d remember the hot guy who’d made me feel wanted again.

  After the twenty-minute drive to Coal Haven, I pulled in front of the little two-story rental house that smelled like wet basement and old smoke. I didn’t park in the garage. It was full of crap from the $1.2 million home that had just sold. Henry had wanted the house, but I wasn’t letting him move his young nurse into the home we’d shared.

  We hadn’t been in the house long, and most of the sale went right back to the bank. But I took what little profit I got as my part of the settlement and rented this old house. Last I heard, Henry was in St. Martin with his new girlfriend, spending his share.

  I rushed up the steps, and the door opened before I reached it. My mom’s eyes were wide.

  She hugged her robe around herself. “Oh, Emery. You didn’t have to come home. Riley and I would’ve figured it out.” Guilt flashed through Mom’s eyes. “I think she had too much sugar.”

  Big surprise. Mom was used to being the grandma that flung treats around like she was in a parade, but now that we were around more, she’d have to leave her candy stashed. Part of my reason for moving was to live in a town with a slower pace and to have her help. She’d moved to Coal Haven for work and a more affordable cost of living a few years after my dad died.

  I stepped around Mom and took my coat off. “How’s she feeling?”

  “Better, but I thought maybe you’d have some Pedialyte or something.”

  By kid three I had given up trying to stock special drinks, but Mom had always sworn by the stuff. Just another log to toss on the crackling fire under my guilt.

  No, I wasn’t going to work myself up over this. The kids had had their grandma to themselves for a few hours, something that hadn’t happened much when we were a busy family an hour away.

  “How much did she throw up?” I toed out of my shoes and padded down the hallway and up the stairs to Riley’s room.

  “Just the once. And then again right after. I guess I’d count them as once, but in the moment—” Mom made an exasperated sound. “Well, it seemed like more. So much for a tiny little body.”

  I entered the room. My one-and-a-half-year-old was sitting up in her crib. “Hey, nugget,” I said softly.

  She reached for me. I felt her forehead. No fever. Relieved it was likely nothing but a gut ache from Nana’s goodies, I picked her up and went to the glider rocker in the corner. Riley rested her head on my shoulder, her dark curls tickling my nose.

  Mom hung in the doorway. The hallway light was on. “Do you need me to get anything?”

  “No, I think the worst has passed. I’ll get her settled back down. Why don’t you get some rest?” I had planned to be up late, not her. But tonight had taken all different turns. “Is the couch okay, or did you want to take my bed?”

  “Oh, no. This old lady can still sleep on a couch.” She adjusted the edges of her purple robe. “You didn’t have to rush home.”

  “I know,” I said on an exhale. Maybe I had latched on to the excuse. The longer I stayed with Holden, the more I would’ve kidded myself about what was really going on. I couldn’t risk thinking there was anything real about what happened. Mutual pleasure. Nothing more. “I wasn’t really doing anything. Don’t worry.”

  “Oh, I’ll always worry.” She closed the door so only a crack of light shone through.

  I rocked Riley until her breathing evened out. She’d expect to be rocked asleep tomorrow night too. Henry had been gone a lot with his long hours, but the upheaval had upset her. She was clingier and prone to tantrums.

  I’d like to be clingier and prone to tantrums, but that was never my relationship with Henry. Looking back, it was clear he’d wanted four kids, to be the successful surgeon who could support a big family, just not the actual work and logistics of raising them. And it had been the same for me as his wife. He didn’t have time to comfort, and there was always his job.

  So rocking Riley to sleep would comfort me as much as her. I laid her down in her crib, softly shut the door, and turned.

  A bleary-eyed eleven-year-old stared at me. I jumped and pressed my hand over my mouth before I shouted and woke Riley. “Avery. You scared the crap out of me.”

  Avery blinked and screwed her face up. “I thought you were getting lit tonight, Mom.”

  Oh, I’d gotten something, but my preteen daughter was the last I’d talk to about that. “Do you know what getting lit means?”

  She shrugged.

  I wanted to keep it that way for a while. I ruffled her hair. “I had one drink and came home.”

  “Mm.” She pressed into me for a bear hug, then stepped back just as quickly. She shuffled to her room across the hall.

  I brushed a strand of hair out of my eyes. It fell back in. I gave up and took the band out as I followed her.

  “It’s not fair that I have to share a room,” she mumbled as she crawled into the twin bed with her powder-blue bedspread.

  I went to the other twin bed on the opposite end of the room. There were three feet between the beds and enough leftover room for a dresser. The closet was so full, I’d probably lose a child when the door was opened.

  “How was Afton tonight?” I ran my fingers lightly over my six-year-old daughter’s dark hair. All the kids had hair darker than my light-brown tresses.

  “She threw a fit when Nana didn’t cut her grilled cheese the right way.”

  Yeah, that sounded about right. Riley learned to throw tantrums from the best. At least Afton had mellowed since the move. I was around more and she wasn’t being shuttled to day care by nannies who changed as often as the toilet paper roll. She’d get used to her grandma’s presence.