Restless Spirit by Sommer Marsden

distracted. ‘I heard him telling the woman he was with. Her name was …’
    ‘Mildred. That’s his sister. Seriously, sometimes I think they’re doing each other.’
    I let out a joyful shriek, but then his mouth was back on my hand and he said, ‘Go on.’
    His tongue was hot. And I knew what that fucking tongue could do. Through panties, no less. ‘I … um …’
    ‘Cat got your tongue?’
    ‘No, your tongue’s got my brain. All locked up,’ I admitted in a breathy whisper. Hearing the state of my voice I felt even more flustered.
    ‘Just one more.’
    He held my hands now. Over the table. Very proper. His thumbs sweeping back and forth over the surprisingly tender flesh above my own thumbs. My nipples spiked against my bra, reminding me that all I really wanted was to have him in me. Holding me down and fucking me. It had been in my mind a lot, when I wasn’t fucking Adrian, or flirting with Reed, for God’s sake.
    Greedy.
    But it made me smile, all the attraction and want and joyous flirting and more. I had lived a bottled up life for a while. I’d broken free and had moved on. My only regrets were breaking Stan’s heart and not getting to Nan in time. But I knew what Nan would tell me if she were here: guilt is a wasted emotion. If you must entertain it, make it quick and get on with it. I wanted to go forward in my life with ballsy bravery. Right now I owed nothing to anyone but myself.
    ‘Reed Green,’ I said.
    His face shut down on me. He released my hands. His eyes went from open and warm to shuttered.
    What had I said?
    ‘Oh yeah?’
    ‘Yeah. Why? What’s wrong with you two? What did I say?’
    He stood, clearing the table. ‘Nothing. You said nothing. I just don’t like him is all. He’s a womaniser.’
    ‘Oh yeah?’ I laughed. ‘Uses his fame to woo them, does he?’
    He cocked his head at me and then shook it in disgust. ‘You could say that. And he’s so goddamned pretty, so you know they all swoon.’
    I chewed the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. I had a feeling that would upset Shepherd even more. First Adrian had an issue with Shepherd and now Shepherd had an issue with Reed. Either there were women in their history or this was small town life.
    ‘And for fuck’s sake,’ he said, taking a pile of dishes to the sink. ‘Who stops acting to run a berry picking fucking farm?’
    ‘Is that the official term?’ I asked, pressing my lips into a tight seam. I would not laugh.
    I was right on his heels and he whirled too fast and knocked me off balance. I clutched the wine glasses and pitcher but started to lose them. Shepherd righted the pitcher and me. I let out a startled whoop and then laughed.
    ‘It is,’ he growled. ‘It is the official term.’
    He plucked the dainty wine glasses from me and put them in the sink.
    ‘Well who stops ultimate cage fighting – not just fighting but cage fighting – to be a handyman?’ I put my hands on my hips and waited.
    ‘I do.’
    ‘So he can’t pick berries?’
    He shook his head. ‘Never mind. You’d have to live here to get it.’
    His eyes were riveted to my red tee and I was starting to feel naked. ‘I do live here,’ I whispered.
    I touched his beard. I couldn’t resist. Normally I despised facial hair but with him it fit so well. It was so aggressive and yet seemed like something he hid behind. I petted it with the tops of my fingers feeling its wiry yet soft texture against my skin.
    ‘Just for a while,’ he said. He caught my hand, stilling it.
    I stood on tiptoe and kissed him. ‘I’d like to live here a long time.’
    ‘Maybe you should go,’ he said.
    ‘Why’s that? You don’t like me any more?’
    ‘I do. I like you too much. And I’m not a good pick for someone like you.’
    ‘What kind of someone am I?’
    I tried to pull my hands free but he wouldn’t release them so I played the sneaky card and pressed my body tight to his. I rocked my hips and felt the press of his erection to the