The Edge Read online

  The heat permeated into him and he moaned as the bite of cold left evacuated his system.

  “Thank you and yes, I would have. Why the hell did you leave?”

  She closed the door and faced him. “Keep your voice down. Taylor is sleeping.” She rubbed her arms as she moved by him, heading for the small living room.

  He gazed about, taking in the warm welcoming colors and the fact it was spotless. Joe hadn’t been in this house since he was in seventh grade and honest, it hadn’t changed much.

  “Looks the same,” he commented.

  “I don’t need the newest and neither did my mother.”

  “I’m not here to pick a fight, Sissy. I’m here to talk about what happened.”

  “What happened? What happened?” Her voice rose to a screech. “You told everyone we were getting married because you compromised me!” She’d stepped closer to him and by the end of her declaration she was poking her finger into his chest.

  He captured her wrist, halting her motion. “Ouch? And I didn’t tell everyone, I told my mother.” He flicked his gaze behind her. “You, however, informed someone else.”

  She whipped around and gasped. Taylor stood there, his John Deere pajamas oddly familiar to Joe.

  “I thought you were sleeping,” she said.

  “Are you marrying Mr. Joe?” He rubbed his eyes and yawned. “I was thirsty so I came to get some water when you started yelling.”

  “No,” she said the second Joe gave the opposite answer.

  Sissy spun back to him. “I’m not marrying you.”

  “Yes, you are,” he countered. “She is.” Joe held Taylor’s gaze as he spoke.

  “So then are we moving to the orchard? Will I get to learn to drive a tractor?”

  “All that and more,” Joe said.

  Hard green eyes cut into him sharper than any knife ever could. He swallowed, aware this could end up hurting him.

  “Get your water and go back to bed, Taylor.”

  Both males recognized the ‘mom’ tone in that order. Hell, Joe straightened up from her command himself. Taylor didn’t tarry and Sissy never once looked away from Joe as her son took himself back to bed.

  “You come here, to my house, telling my son we were getting married? All without talking to me about this first?”

  “Be pissed all you want, Sissy. I’m marrying you.” He crossed his arms. “To be fair, you’re the one who told him.”

  “You could have said it was a joke. Now he’s going to be thinking he’s moving out to your farm.”

  “He is.”

  “I’m not marrying you.” She whirled around and stomped to the couch where she sat with a grunt.

  He followed, trying not to grin. She was furious, no doubt about it, but he was with her and they would get through this. It would work out. Plus, she was just so fucking adorable in her purple pants with white hearts and the word Love scripted on the fuzzy material combined with her gray and black jersey shirt that was about three sizes too big for her. Her hair tumbled free of the bun she’d had it in while she had worked out at his house.

  “Did you hear me, Joe?”

  “I heard, didn’t think it was necessary to disagree with you again on that fact. I told you how I felt about it. We’re getting married.”

  “No need. I told you I couldn’t have kids so my being possibly pregnant is a moot argument. It’s not going to happen.”

  “And I want to know why, Sissy. I want to know all about what’s happened to you. I will. As the days pass, we’ll learn more about each other but I’m dead serious about having a wedding where you play the part of a bride and I’m the groom.”

  “This is insane, there is no point, zero, for us to even be considering this.”

  He moved to sit beside her, loving how she swayed toward him before she caught herself.

  She knows I’m right even if she can’t admit it at the moment.

  As she righted herself, he inched closer until their legs touched. Like always, a thrill rocketed throughout him. Another nail in his willing coffin on his bachelorhood.

  “We grew up together, Sissy. I saw you naked by the time we were eight. We had snowball fights and shared a bed, hell, we’ve shared a sleeping bag.”

  Her cheeks heated and he realized she’d not remembered that before now.

  “I’m a widow and a single mom, Joe. I don’t have time for your games. I don’t want to become the current gossip for The Edge, what Mrs. Finch and her quilting group talk about or Mrs. Brean and her book club discuss instead of that most recent scandalous book they’re pretending they didn’t read and get aroused by.”

  “So, you read those kinds of books?”

  “I read all kinds of books.”

  There wasn’t any denying the sparkle in her eyes despite her trying to sound indignant.

  “Sissy.”

  She blinked and met his gaze. “What?”

  “Stay right there and hold my stare. Then tell me you don’t feel this thing between us.”

  Chapter Eight

  Sissy remained stuck in her seat. Could I do it? Could I tell Joe I didn’t feel whatever it is between us?

  Not without lying like Satan. She chewed on the inside of her cheek and searched for the answer. Why she didn’t just tell him, she wasn’t sure, but the words weren’t falling out of her mouth.

  “Sissy?”

  She held his blue gaze and knew if she lied and said she didn’t, it would be the worst thing for her. But the problem was it wasn’t only her life this would affect. Her son had a say in all of this as well.

  “I can’t say that, Joe. Even before today, it was growing between us. You showing up here, finding me at your place. All of it. Day in and day out, it built. But that doesn’t matter. I have to think of Taylor.”

  “I heard him. He seemed pretty damn excited about coming to the farm.”

  She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Joe, it doesn’t work this way. That way. Whatever, it doesn’t work like this. I have to sit down with him and speak about it all, no matter what.”

  “Let’s talk to him then. What do you want me to say, Sissy? I’ve laid it all out for you.”

  “No, you told me what was going to happen. After you fuck my brains out you tell me that I’m going to marry you. Not just to me but in front of my employer. There wasn’t any asking, no discussion. Then you come here to my sanctuary and do it again. And my son overhears.”

  Damn him. He doesn’t look the least bit repentant. In fact, he appears pretty damn smug.

  “You’re thinking about the fucking my brains out bit, aren’t you?”

  The smile he flashed dampened her panties. It wasn’t fair how much sex appeal he had.

  “So maybe I handled it wrong, but I’m not letting this go, Sissy. I’m not letting you go. You can’t tell me you don’t feel something and we can talk to your son together. I get it, you were married and you lost him. I don’t want you to forget him. I want you to continue living your life. This time with me.”

  Damn it, he makes this all sound so inviting.

  She wanted to nod and jump into his arms but she resisted the urge. “I have to speak to Taylor.”

  Joe cupped her cheek with his calloused hand. She fought the need to push deeper into his touch.

  “So we talk to him in the morning.”

  She narrowed her gaze. “You’re coming back?”

  “I’m not leaving.”

  “You want them to see your truck in the drive that early in the morning, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” he replied with zero remorse.

  Squeezing her eyes shut, she moved on to rubbing her temples. Her head pounded. When had her life become such a circus?

  Oh yeah, the moment I came back and agreed to work for the Meyers family.

  Joe readjusted her so her back rested against his front. His strong arms around her, holding her tight, she allowed her eyes to open once more. The wildness settled within her and she sighed.

  He wa
s right—she couldn’t deny it.

  “I just don’t know.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s been me and Taylor since his father died, then we had Mom for a bit. Then she died and we were back to the two of us. I can’t bring another one into his life that is going to go away.”

  “I’m not going anywhere and you’re already out there all the time. What’s the problem?”

  “Exactly. I don’t want the town to think I took a job there to get married.”

  “You’ve been there while I was gone. It’s a small town, people will talk but you have us to protect you and Taylor. Jen will be there as she’s taking over as the business manager, to do the books. Patrick is going to be the sheriff and Mary is a vet. We’re all coming home. We already love you and I know my parents already think of Taylor as theirs.”

  Eyes open, she turned to look at the man in her house. “Okay, Joseph Meyers. We take it slow. I’m not moving out there or marrying you before Christmas. I can’t rush this. We talk to Taylor and make sure he’s okay with this.”

  Joe smiled and she nudged him, rolling her eyes.

  “Slow, but not too slow.” He put his head to hers. “You know I love you, Sissy, right? I love you and I always will.”

  Pushing their lips together, she leaned into him, taking what he offered. As he laid her back on the couch, she pushed everything but this moment out of her mind. Tomorrow things would be faced, but right now, she was with Joe and there wasn’t anywhere else she wanted to be.

  STRAYING TO THE EDGE

  Book two in The Edge series

  Sometimes what you think you need least is what you need most.

  Jenn Meyers has come home to take over the books for the family farm while her father recuperates from his stroke. She thought she’d put this part of her life behind her, trading in the tractor and blue jeans for sports cars and business suits. However, the longer she’s home, the easier it is for her to fit in once more.

  Tony Blackstone hasn’t forgotten the woman who stole his heart all those years ago, despite the fact she never even known he was alive. Now that she’s back, all his feelings are resurfacing. Trouble is, she doesn’t seem all that keen on staying. He wants her to stray his way and not back to the big city. Can he show her that her place is here in The Edge, with him?

  Dedication

  To those of us blessed enough to know small town life.

  Trademark Acknowledgements

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmark mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Daisy Duke: Warner Bros. Television

  Chapter One

  Jennifer Meyers closed the book and pinched the bridge of her nose. Lordy, I hurt. Every inch of her was sore. Rubbing the back of her neck, she sighed. She cracked open her eyes and glanced over to the clock. Six hours had passed since she’d sat down in this chair.

  She sobered. It wasn’t her chair, it was her father’s. A man she’d always idolized as far back as she could remember. Her days of sitting in this office with him, at her own little desk with her very own ledger, were fond memories she never forgot, no matter how much she moved beyond this small town.

  Now that man, the one she’d thought would never slow down, lay upstairs recovering from a massive stroke and she was the one in the chair.

  “I’d much rather you be sitting here, Dad,” she muttered.

  “You okay, Jenn?”

  She took off her glasses and peered up at her baby sister as she walked in. Mary removed the stethoscope from around her neck. Her jeans hung low on her hips, making Jenn realize that she’d lost more weight since she’d gotten home. It was hard to miss the dark circles beneath her eyes, as well.

  “I should be asking you that. You’re home late. Everything okay?”

  Mary tucked some of her hair behind one ear and rocked back on her heels. “You do know I’m not a baby anymore, right? I am allowed to be worried and ask how everyone else is doing.”

  There was an edge to her tone but Jenn ignored it. Instead, she left her glasses on the desk and got to her feet.

  “Let me fix you something to eat,” she said, shepherding Mary out of the room.

  Jenn had mixed feelings about that space. As children, for the most part they hadn’t been allowed in there—it had been off limits aside from special occasions. Part of the reason it was all the more special for her was that she had memories of being in there with her father. And selfish as it may be, she didn’t want her sister in there now.

  In the kitchen, she fixed them each a cold meat sandwich with a glass of tea. They sat across from each other at the oval dinner table.

  “Anything I can do to help?” Mary asked her as she got a dab of mayo that had hung on the corner of her mouth.

  “Nope.”

  Mary’s gaze shuttered, and Jenn hurried to reassure her.

  “Not because you’re the baby, but just because it’s all numbers and book work. I am catching up. It’s merely taking a bit longer than I thought it would. He was further behind than I first believed on writing everything down.”

  “Fine.” She lowered her gaze back to the sandwich and finished it. “Thanks. Goodnight.” Mary got up from the table, rinsed off her dish and left Jenn alone with her thoughts in the old kitchen.

  She could do to talk to someone. Rubbing her neck again, she demolished the rest of her sandwich then departed as well, clicking off the light as she went.

  Jenn swiped her keys and opened the door. With a look over her shoulder, she acknowledged she had a small measure of guilt. She was sneaking out like she had done growing up. Only right now, that just left Mary in the house with her parents. Joe was most likely out with his fiancée and Patrick was settling into his job on the force.

  She’d heard rumors they wanted him to take over as sheriff, with his experience. A final look over her shoulder and she hurried down to her car. She climbed behind the wheel and started the powerful engine.

  Not much later, she was driving through town, heading to one of the bars. There were three of them in The Edge but she pulled in to the first establishment she came to, Perimeter.

  Parking her small sports car next to the old, big trucks, she shook her head. Definitely not in the big city anymore. She grabbed her purse and went inside.

  The interior wasn’t horrible, but so not what she was used to. Trying hard not to curl her lip in disdain, she made her way to the bar, dusted off the barstool and took a seat with caution.

  A pair of dark gray eyes held her interest as their owner watched her. She bit back her irritation, accepting she was spoiling for a confrontation. Probably shouldn’t have come to a bar then, her subconscious cheerfully commented. She ignored it and gazed at the man watching her.

  Big and strong. Not like the bartenders she was used to. This man had muscles gotten from hard work, not the gym. They weren’t over-exaggerated. Nope, pretty damn perfect if she had to say anything about them.

  His jeans hung around lean hips and hugged tight to powerful thighs. She deliberately skimmed over what lingered in the center there and moved her gaze back up to safer territory. Or so she thought. His shaggy dark brown hair was stylishly messy. Scruff covered his chiseled jaw and she wanted to touch it.

  Whoa! That’s not a good thing. Looking was fine. Touching would only lead to trouble, especially in a bar in The Edge.

  Trouble was, if he kept looking at her like that, she would be over the bar doing a lot more than touching. He’d ignited a flame inside her that she needed him to extinguish.

  Rallying her waning control, she cocked an eyebrow and asked, “Going to take my order or do I wait for someone else to walk by and do their job?”

  A hint of a smile teased the corners of his lips. “From the look on your face before you sat, I wasn’t sure you’d want anything in a glass. Perhaps they’re not clean enough for you, Princeton.”

  She drew back, furrowing her brow in confusion. “Princeton?”
>
  He grabbed a glass and placed it on the bar in front of her. “That is where you went to school, isn’t it? Pretty sure the bars around there are a bit cleaner, higher end than this.”

  He leaned on the counter, ran a hand through his hair, then gave her a smile which damn near melted her panties.

  Giving her pussy a severe mental chastisement on how to behave, she narrowed her eyes. “How do you know that? How do you even know who I am?”

  Tony Blackstone stared at the woman he’d crushed on all throughout school. It didn’t surprise him one bit she hadn’t recognized him. He’d come a long way from the dorky, nerdy boy with the braces and thick glasses.

  Jenn, on the other hand, had only gotten more stunning as the years had passed. He’d like to muss her up. Ruin that straight-laced person he saw in front of him. Make her sweat and get dirty.

  Having her rake those French-tipped nails up and down my back would also work just fine. He reached behind him, swiped a bottle of scotch and poured her some.

  Her gaze flicked to the glass and back to his face. Using one finger, he nudged the tumbler in her direction. “On the house.”

  “Sure the boss will approve of you giving out his drinks?” She curved those long, thin fingers around the glass.

  He noticed there was no ring on the most important finger there. Good.

  “I get a bit of leeway.”

  She lifted the glass and drank, eyes closing as the liquid slid down her throat. Seconds later she coughed and he hid his smile.

  “Not used to the real stuff?” He raked his gaze over her. “I’m going to guess your drink of choice is a Cosmo of some sorts.”

  She sniffed. This woman was all kinds of cute when she looked disgruntled. “Nothing wrong with enjoying something other than whatever that was.”

  “That was scotch. Nothing else in it to water it down, but I can make you a Cosmo if you’d like a pussy drink.”

  Jenn snapped her gaze up to him. “Do you always speak thusly to your clientele?”

  He laughed. “Thusly? Yes, I do. Look, Princeton, this isn’t a bar that is going to cater to your every whim and pad over-inflated egos. We serve hard drinks with a side of truth.”