“Dad puts a secret ingredient in his burgers that makes you dream about them for weeks!” Owen skips in the middle of us, talking loudly. “Maybe I should tell Ms. Piper about that so she can put it in her paper!”

  “Don’t sell my secrets to the media!” I scrub the top of his head.

  “I could sell it to her?” His eyebrows rise, and Britt shakes her head, carrying the platter to the table.

  “Now you’ve done it. You’ve created a monster.”

  “You want another beer?” I open the outdoor refrigerator and grab one for myself.

  “I’m good.” She returns to her seat beside Owen, who is arranging plates, napkins, and silverware at our three places.

  It’s a crisp spring night, laced with the occasional singing of a frog from the nearby creek. Citronella lanterns and jar candles are positioned around the perimeter, and yellow lights are hidden in the rafters of the covered deck behind my house, where we’re sitting.

  Twinkle lights are wrapped around the beams, and the golden glow reflects off her smooth skin, her soft, blonde hair. She’s fucking gorgeous.

  “You have such a beautiful place here.” Britt looks around the backyard as I set a bowl of potato salad and another bowl of chips in the center of the table. “Should I be asking for a raise?”

  “Most of this is dividends from the family business.” I take a seat across from her, twisting the top off a fresh beer, doing my best to keep my eyes from devouring her. “When Alex decided to expand the distillery, we all chipped in to get him started.”

  “That’s right!” She smiles. “Stone Cold is really doing well now, isn’t it?”

  “My brother might say it’s doing too well. I think he needs to hire more help.”

  Owen jumps forward, grabbing a big handful of chips. “Did you know zebras communicate nonverbally?”

  “Easy on the chips, little man.” I motion to his plate. “Eat your hamburger.”

  “Is that true?” Britt smiles as he wiggles on the bench beside her.

  He takes a huge bite of hamburger, nodding. “If they’re happy to see you, their ears go forward.” He drops the burger on his plate and demonstrates, cupping his hands on each side of his head. “But if a predator is around, they go flat against their heads.”

  “Sounds like my grandmother’s cat.” Britt takes a bite of burger and makes a little noise, covering her mouth with her hand. “Oh my gosh—this is delicious! You have to tell me the secret ingredient!”

  “Nope!” Owen shakes his head. “I’m selling it to Ms. Piper!”

  That makes me laugh. “My little mercenary. I don’t know if it’s much of a secret. I chop up some mushrooms, add a little soy sauce and black pepper, and mix it with the ground chuck.”

  “Soy sauce, of course!” Her eyes widen, and she nods. “It was so familiar, and it makes total sense.”

  “Do you know why zebras are black and white?” Owen has eaten half his burger and two fists full of chips. “It’s to keep them cool in the hot sun because the white stripes reflect the heat. And it camouflages them in the tall grass!”

  “I didn’t know that.” Britt’s body is angled to face him, and I study her sweet smile.

  Edna’s words filter through my brain, and my jaw tightens at the thought of Adam touching her. His lips being where mine have been.

  “Did you know zebras only have one toe?”

  “One toe?” Britt’s nose wrinkles.

  “Yep! They walk around all day on their tiptoes!” Now he has Zander dancing on the table.

  “Take a breath, Owen, and let Britt eat her dinner.”

  He twists his lips, making a face at me, but he makes a big show of taking another bite of hamburger. Britt’s eyes flicker to mine, and her smile is a shot of dopamine right to my chest.

  After a few minutes of chewing, Owen tilts his head to the side. “Dad said it was okay that you taught me a card trick. He said he overreacted.” Her eyebrows rise, and she gives me another quick glance. I give her a little wink in response, and her cheeks flush.

  Owen continues, undeterred. “I showed it to him when we got home, but I didn’t do it right.”

  His little shoulders slump, and she pats his back. “Your hands are still growing. I’ll teach you an easier one next time.” Then taking a sip of beer, she smoothly changes the subject. “How did you learn so much about zebras?”

  “I read a lot. My teacher, Mrs. Priddy, says readers are leaders.”

  “I remember Mrs. Priddy!” Britt’s eyebrows rise. “Is she still teaching? She’s got to be about to retire.”

  “I think she’s getting close.” I polish off the last of my burger, watching my son doing his best to impress our dinner guest.

  “You’re nice, like a teacher.” He tilts his head up at her. “Do you like being a lady cop? Do you know how to shoot a gun?”

  “I’m actually a forensic photographer, so the only thing I shoot is a camera.” Her nose wrinkles with her smile.

  “That’s right! My dad said you take pictures at crime scenes.” His voice drops, and he leans closer. “Do you ever take pictures of dead people?”

  “Sometimes,” Britt whispers back. “It’s my job to be sure no piece of evidence is left undocumented.”

  Owen’s eyes blink wider, and I’m pretty sure he’s in love. “I want to do that when I grow up!”

  A pretty smile curls her lips. “Maybe you can tag along and help me one day—if it’s okay with your dad.”

  Owen jumps around in his seat, practically shouting. “Can I, Dad? I’ll be real quiet, and I won’t get in the way or anything!”

  “You’ll be real quiet?” I lift a finger to my ear, and Britt exhales a soft laugh. “Maybe one day when you don’t have school. In the meantime, you need to head up and take a bath, get ready for bed…”

  He jumps off the bench, hesitating a moment to hug Britt’s shoulder. “I like you! Your job is cool!”

  “If you think my job is cool, you should meet my dog.” She smiles, hugging his small waist.

  “You have a dog?” My son’s eyes are wide, and I wince, remembering how many times he’s asked for a puppy—that we have no time to care for.

  “I do. His name is Edward, and he’s part bloodhound, which means he has a super sniffer. I’ll bring him to the courthouse one afternoon so you can meet him.”

  “Okay!” Owen is definitely in love.

  “Bath time now.” He takes off into the house, and I call after him. “Speaking of sniffing, I’m going to smell you, so you’d better use soap.”

  He yells a grumpy okay on his way up the stairs, and I turn back to see Britt smiling, her green eyes warm. “He reminds me of somebody.”

  “He’s a lot like my brother Adam.” Whom I have no reason to be annoyed with.

  “I was thinking he’s a lot like you. He’s adorable.” She almost seems shy saying it as she stands, collecting her plate and Owen’s.

  I stand, taking the plates she’s holding. “Adorable?”

  “For now, but I expect he’ll grow out of it like you did.”

  “Ouch, not sure how to take that.” I stack their plates on top of mine and take them into the house, doing my best to keep it light.

  She puts the lid on the potato salad and carries it and the bowl of chips behind me. “I just mean, I’m sure you were adorable at his age, whereas now, you’re something very different.”

  “And what’s that?” I pause, leaning my hip against the counter.

  A naughty glint is in her eyes. “You know what you are. Grumpy, broody, bossy.”

  “Is that so?”

  “You know it is.” Her easy flirtation sends blood racing below my belt, and I quickly rinse and put everything in the dishwasher while she packs up the rest of the condiments and puts them in the refrigerator.

  “I thought I was being friendly.” I’m holding the towel, drying my hands, and my eyes run over her petite frame, hungrily taking in her smooth legs, that short dress.

  Her hands are behind her back, and she leans against the bar, sliding her pink tongue over her lip and sending my thoughts so far from friendly.

  “As soon as I get my truck back, I’ll have you and Owen over to my place for dinner.”

  At first I’m confused, then I realize. “You can’t drive to the store.”

  “Correct.” She leans forward slightly. “Which means I need you to give me a ride back to town.”

  “Let me get Owen in bed, and I’ll see if Vanessa can walk over and sit with him a minute.”

  “Vanessa?”

  “High school girl across the street. She helps me sometimes when Mom can’t.” I scoop up my phone, sending a quick text and hoping…

  I get a quick reply saying she’ll be here in ten minutes. “She’ll be here in ten. Can I get you something while you wait? I have a bottle of Stone Cold Original.” I walk over to the cabinet beside the fireplace.

  “The best small-batch bourbon since Blanton’s?” She turns, leaning on her elbows on the bar.

  “You heard about that?”

  “My best friend runs the town paper. I know all kinds of things about Eureka.”

  “I bet you do.” Setting two tumblers on the bar, I pour us each a finger. “I’ll tell you the secret about this guy. It’s my grandfather’s original recipe. Alex found it in a folder in the back of his desk.”

  She lifts the glass of amber liquid, tilting it side to side. “That’s really special, like a family heirloom. You know there’s a black market for this stuff?”

  “Alex can’t make enough to keep it on the shelves.” I clink my glass against hers and take a small sip just as my son starts yelling he’s done.

  Placing the glass on the bar, I take a beat to watch her sip. Her eyebrows rise, and she nods. “I don’t know a lot about bourbon, but this is nice. Smokey.”

  Our eyes meet, and the room seems smaller, the air closer. Watching her tonight talking to Owen, telling him about her job and listening to all his zebra facts, she seemed happy and entertained, not bored or impatient.

  She’s light and fun, and Edna’s words about her being friends with Adam are in my head. They can be friends, but I’d prefer something a little different.

  I’d prefer to think of lifting her onto that bar, stepping between her legs, and sliding my hands higher under her skirt…

  “DAD!” Owen yells, and my eyebrows rise.

  Britt snorts a laugh, and I’m hooked a little more. “Be right back.”

  Owen holds out both his arms for me to sniff for soap, but I skip the fake-out, sniffing the top of his shoulder instead. It smells fresh enough, and I give him the okay to exit the tub and dry off. When he’s finally in his PJs with his hair towel-dried, I tuck him in the bed and sit beside him reading his favorite National Geographic book about zebras.

  “Zebras live in small family groups in the African savannah, where they keep each other safe.” A soft creak in the floorboards makes me look up to see Britt standing in the doorway with her arms crossed, a curious smile on her full lips. “Family groups usually consist of one male and several females and their babies.”

  “Several females?” Owen’s voice is less loud, which tells me he’s getting tired. “Why do they do that?”

  “To have lots of baby zebras.” Glancing down at my son, Zander is tucked under his arm, and his eyes are fixed on the photographs of the stunning, striped creatures.

  I finish a few pages and lean forward to kiss the top of his head. “I’ve got to run Britt home. Vanessa will be downstairs, and I’ll be right back. Go to sleep.”

  “Okay.” He curls deeper into his blankets while he holds the book, turning back to his favorite pictures. “Night, Miss Britt!”

  “Goodnight, Owen,” she whispers.

  Our bodies are close when I stand, and I look down, not wanting to move away from her warmth, her captivating presence.

  A little smile curls her lips, and she blinks up at me. “Time to go?”

  No…

  “Yeah.” I place my hand on her shoulder, giving it a little squeeze before leading her down the stairs.

  CHAPTER 12

  BRITT

  Grumpy Aiden Stone scrunched into his son’s small bed reading about zebras is possibly the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. My stomach filled with warmth as I stood in the doorway, watching them.

  I wanted to step forward and trace my fingers through the side of his hair like I did the night he kissed me. This entire evening, I’ve had to stop myself from touching him as if his skin beneath my fingertips is a drug, and I can’t get enough. He’s the dream I was never allowed to have… until I was.

  Now we’re almost at my little apartment in town, and I wonder what he’ll do. Will he let me out at the curb or risk entering that stairwell with me again?

  Our kiss was pretty incredible, but the crack in his voice as he whispered I want to be inside you are the words I live for. I imagine his hands gripping the back of my thighs, his rough touch gliding higher against my smooth skin, sliding between my legs, ripping my thong aside.

  I blink away the erotic images, doing my best to calm my hormones. “You’re really great with Owen. He’s a lucky little boy.”

  “He’s a good kid.” He glances at me, and his eyes seem to catch on my lips before returning to the road. “I wanted to mention, Founder’s Day is next weekend. The big festival?”

  That’s a switch. “Yeah, I’ll be on duty that day. Do you expect it to be crazy?”

  “Not at all.” He shakes his head. “The most that ever happens is somebody has too much Founder’s Day punch, and their family or friends have to take them home.”

  That makes me laugh. “I wound up skinny dipping with a bunch of friends after drinking too much of it in high school. I’m pretty sure your brother was with us.”

  His brow lowers, and he clears his throat. “I think you should take the afternoon off and go to the festival with me.” My eyebrows rise, and he quickly adds, “Doug and Holly will be there, and I think it’s good for us to engage with the community as a team.”

  “I agree.” We’re at my building, and he puts the truck in park, killing the engine before hopping out and walking around to open my door.

  Anticipation mixes with the nerves churning in my stomach. He takes my hand, and I thank him quietly as I step out of the cab. My hand is still in his, and he doesn’t let go as we cross the short sidewalk.

  We stop at the door. He doesn’t open it, and the streetlight at the corner casts long shadows across his face. I look up, and I can’t tell what he’s thinking or what he might do. Still, I can feel the tension in his grip on my fingers.

  My heart beats faster, and I slide my hand out of his. “Thanks again for dinner and for the ride home.”

  Opening the door, I enter the stairwell, and my stomach flutters when he enters behind me. The yellow light above my door is on, but before I can climb the stairs, he catches my arm, turning me to face him.

  My lips part, but I’m not sure what to say. My eyes trace his, memorizing the fine lines at the corners, more noticeable right now as he frowns down at me like he’s fighting some internal battle.

  “I don’t want you to date Adam.” His voice is rough.

  My brow furrows. “I never wanted to date Adam.” He takes a step closer, pressing my back to the wall, and I take a chance. “I only ever wanted…”

  But even with a shot of bourbon in me, I’m not sure I can say out loud that I’ve always wanted him. It’s too much of a risk. He has too many reasons to say no and walk away, leaving my broken heart bleeding on the ground.

  “What do you want?” He lifts a hand, tracing his thumb along the line of my jaw.

  I swallow the knot in my throat. My heart beats so fast it hurts, and I lift my hand, placing it on his stomach, curling my fingers in the thin cotton of his white tee.

  “Something I can’t have.” I want to pull the shirt higher, slide my fingers along his warm skin I crave.

  His face lowers, and his nose follows the line of my hair beside my temple, inhaling softly. My eyes close as chills skate down my arms.

  “Why can’t you have it?” His voice is raspy.

  My eyes are closed as fire pulses in my veins. “He doesn’t know I exist.”

  Lifting my chin in his thumb and forefinger, he whispers, “Look at me.” Carefully obeying his command, my body goes liquid when our eyes meet. “He knows.”

  His mouth seals to mine, and a whimper aches from my throat. I grip his shirt in my fingers to keep from sliding to the floor.

  Our mouths open, and at the first touch of his tongue, my orgasm flares to life in my core. He cups my jaw in one hand, tilting my head so he can kiss me deeper. The other slides down my back, covering my ass before lifting my leg to his waist.

  “Oh,” I gasp, and his lips move to my ear.

  “We shouldn’t do this.” He groans as his fingers trace higher to the line of my panties.

  “I know.” I pull his shirt higher, desperate for his skin.

  “Fuck, Britt.” His mouth is on mine again, and I’m off my feet, my back against the wall as my legs wrap around his waist.

  The dress I’m wearing gives him full access to my body, and he takes it, sliding his hands to my ass, curling his fingers on my bare cheeks as he groans against my neck. Only a scrap of lace and faded denim stands in the way of our complete union.

  “I want you so much.” He pulls my lips with his, and my entire body is on fire. “I can’t think of you with him.”

  I’m so confused. “With who?”

  “Anyone.” It’s a possessive groan, and his mouth is on mine again as his hands move higher, lifting my dress on a path to my breasts.

  Shoving my bra up, his hands cover them, lifting and kneading, teasing my taut nipples. I exhale a moan, dropping my head to the wall. We’re desperate and wild, and I swear, if he doesn’t fuck me right now…

  “God, you feel so good.” He’s tugging at my dress, and as quickly as possible, I undo the tiny buttons on the front.

  It bursts open, and his mouth immediately covers a hardened nipple. “Oh, God…” I gasp, plunging my fingers into his hair.