He ground himself against her clit, plunged his finger into her ass, and made her scream for him. Her sex convulsed, fisting on his dick as she came hard enough to make bursts of light explode behind her eyes. “Oh God, Price.”

“This is so fucking amazing, Aubrey,” he gasped. She watched his eyes lose focus, his jaw locking as he lost himself in orgasm, pumping his long finger and cock inside her until he was spent and she was moaning helplessly with every minute movement he made within her channels.

They stayed there for a long time, their breathing gradually slowing, and their heart rates returning to normal. Only then did Price pull out of her. She shivered, sliding from the table to retrieve her jeans and redress. She could hear Price cleaning himself up and righting his clothing, but she didn’t dare look at him. The man was a serious hazard to her mental health. She’d decided not to touch him again or see him again, and here she was doing him in her coffee shop not twelve hours later.

She jerked upright when his hand closed around her arm. He handed her purse to her and drew her toward the door.

“W—what are you doing?”

“Taking you to dinner.”

“Isn’t that a little backwards?”

“So?” He moved his hand down to hers, cradling it in his big palm. It felt nice, secure. Dangerous, she warned herself. She tried to tug her hand free, but he wasn’t having it. Instead, he twined his fingers with hers and squeezed hard enough to make sure she couldn’t escape. Then he pulled her out the door and waited for her to use her free hand to lock up. “There’s a nice diner across the square. Let’s go there.”

Jericho gave them a wide smile when they passed by and—for once—had the decency not to make some crazy predictions. He kept his mouth shut and nodded to them as they passed. Price glanced at her. “Friend of yours?”

“Not exactly.” Her eyebrows lifted. “Why? Are the police going to escort him out of town?”

His big shoulder rolled in a shrug. “Not unless he starts bothering people.”

“He hasn’t bothered me.” Okay, so it wasn’t true. Jericho’s predictions bothered her, but before he’d started making them, they’d had no problems at all. As far as she could tell, he was just a nice old guy down on his luck.

Price nodded. “So long as he doesn’t harass anyone, we’re fine.”

Tugging at her hand again, she frowned when his fingers tightened. His thumb stroked over her flesh and goose bumps broke over her arms. When had she ever had a reaction this strong to anyone? Never. She was in so much trouble. How could she go on a date with someone she’d just had a one-night stand and a prep table quickie with?

She had no clue, but Price had her hand and he wasn’t letting go, so it looked like she was about to get a crash course.

He ushered her up the steps to the little mom and pop diner next door to Celia’s hair salon and snagged a booth near the back. “The town gossip says you’re not from here either. Why did you come?”

“Burn out, like you. I’d had enough of the rat race after my divorce that I wanted a major change. We had all the same friends and business contacts, so I wanted out of it all.” She shrugged, not bothering to look at the menu since she’d been here a million times with Celia. “I took a vacation to the coast, ended up in Mrs. Chamber’s B&B… and never left.”

He nodded. “I came up to visit my brother and wanted to stick around.”

Mason was recruited from L.A. two years ago by some friend of a friend in the fire department. Aubrey didn’t know the specifics, but she knew he was well liked by everyone. So far, everyone seemed just as impressed with Price. Interesting family. She grinned. “Your brother has a serious thing for my best friend, Celia. He goes to her salon every week to flirt with her and ask her out.”

Flipping his menu closed, Price chuckled. “Mason isn’t a subtle man.”

“And you are?”

“We’re brothers for a reason.” He shrugged.

“Your dad has to be a terror.”

“So was my mom. You should have met them.” He chuckled softly, and they paused their conversation long enough to order when the waitress arrived.

“Should have as in past tense? What happened?”

“Car accident. They went together, which they would have wanted.” Sadness darkened his gaze and it made her reach over the table and squeeze his hand. He turned his palm up and laced her fingers through his again. “It was not long after my divorce… about five years ago. When I came up to see Mason last Christmas, I realized how much I missed having family around. I talked to the former police chief about a job, found out he was retiring, and no one on the force wanted the position. So, here I am.”

“Here you are.” She took a sip of her water and decided to get right to the point. “Why are you pushing us dating?

This isn’t me playing hard to get. I don’t like those kind of games.”

They paused again as their order arrived. It was why she liked this place—the service was fast and the food was good. Price picked up his fork and his end of the conversation. “We’re not going to date.”

“Oh, good.” Relief flooded her because at this point she wasn’t sure she had the willpower to resist if he touched her.

“I’m glad we’re on the same page here.”

“You dump the guys you date after a few months. I’m not interested in that.”

“You are so right.”

He smiled. “Which is why we’re just getting married.”

She choked on the bite of the green beans she’d just swallowed. Her eyes watered, and she dove for her glass of water. After she’d chugged half the glass, she croaked out, “Are you out of your mind?”

“You can take as much time as you need to catch up with me on this one, but I’ve decided. And I’m all in. Get used to it.” He leaned back in the booth and laid his arm across the back of the bench.

“We just met a week ago. This is our first real date.”

His big shoulder lifted in a shrug. “When I make up my mind, I make up my mind.”


“Well, you can change your mind.”

“Not usually.”

“Price.”

“You know you turn me on when you get pissed.”

Her mouth gaped. “That is the most condescending, chauvinistic horseshit I have ever heard come out of a man’s mouth. And it’s fucking trite on top of that.”

“I still have a serious hard-on right now. It’s not something I can control.”

She sputtered for a second before she offered him a nasty glare. “You did that on purpose to try and get me to stop talking about how you’re insane to want to marry me on the second date. The first real out-of-the-house date.”

“Well, I might have mentioned this yesterday but you saw fit to strip naked. There was no way in hell I was letting you get sidetracked by anything. And I’d have told you this morning, but you ran out.” He took a swig of his coffee.

“I might have to spank you for that later.”

Fire exploded in her veins at the thought of his hand on her upturned ass. Holy shit. She just stared at him, heat flooding her cheeks. Her breathing hitched, and her hands clenched on the tabletop.

He met her gaze, his golden skin stretching taut over his sharp cheekbones. “Stop looking at me like that, sugar. I’m not fucking you again until you see things my way.”

“Then you’re not fucking me again.”

He just grinned. “We’ll see about that.”

“This is insane.” She tapped her fork against her plate agitatedly. “Do you really think it’s that simple to make a relationship out of thin air?”

“I knew you the moment I met you. End of story. I know it sounds crazy, but that’s how it is.” His heavy brows snapped together. “You think that’s easy for me to admit?”

“You make it sound easy.” She shifted uncomfortably. Hadn’t she thought that the first day they’d met? That she knew him… that she liked him?

“I’m divorced too, sugar. Don’t forget that. I’ve got a couple of scars of my own in the relationship department. I just haven’t written all women off.”

“I haven’t written men off.” But her protest sounded weak even to her own ears.

He arched an eyebrow. “You don’t think so?”

“I date.”

A derisive snort was his answer.

Uncertainty crawled through her. She was honest enough to admit she had written men off, but it sounded so much more cowardly when he said it that way, like she didn’t have a good reason to be leery of relationships… of men. “I don’t have to want to get married again. There’s nothing wrong with me if I want to be single.”

“Yeah, if you wanted to be single. You’re just scared.”

Anger simmered deep inside her, a knee-jerk reaction after being dicked around so badly in her last relationship.

“Drop. Dead.”

“It’s not going to make it untrue if you get mad.” He offered up a smirk. “But go ahead, sugar. You know how much I like it.”

The shriek that escaped her sounded like a whistling teakettle. Her hands fisted tightly and she had to think really hard about how stupid it would be to assault a police officer. Especially the Chief of Police. She tried to remind herself about how she was too pretty for jail, and about how much he would enjoy it and smirk some more if he got to lock her in a cell. That mellowed her right out. No way in hell would she give him the satisfaction. She bared her teeth in a smile. “Well, since we’re playing by your rules now, you can get as turned on as you want, sugar, but you’re still not getting laid because I’m not seeing things your way any time soon.”

His mouth opened and closed. He narrowed his eyes at her, and now it was her turn to smirk. He deserved it for making her wait. He wanted strings attached to his sex? Fine. He got to dance around like Pinocchio then. Of course, she was dancing alongside his stubborn ass. Damn it.