Chapter 5

Chapter Five

CONNOR

The first light of dawn filtered into the Lennox kitchen, casting a soft glow over the room. I leaned back in the kitchen chair and sipped my coffee, savoring the warmth and the rich aroma. My volunteer shift on-site had finished, but I wasn't ready to leave the ranch yet.

Just in case.

Nothing to do with the fact Quinn was still here.

The storm had stopped, and according to Chris, if the weather service was to be believed, it would be a good day.

Quinn was curled up on the sofa in the corner, nearly in Levi's lap, both focused on whispering whatever married guys talked about. They were good together, no doubt about it, and yeah, I needed to back off worrying about Quinn because he was right. His personal security was on Levi now, and he didn't rely on me.

No one did now.

Great, and now I'm having a lonely-ass pity party for one.

I took another sip of my coffee, trying to shake off a small pang of what seemed a lot like envy. Quinn and Levi had found something special, something I hadn't realized I wanted until I'd started battling with Neil. It was hard not to feel envious of their easy affection and how I could never imagine it for myself.

I didn't do soft and sweet.

Micah and Daniel stumbled down the stairs and into the kitchen, bleary-eyed and needing coffee. They'd gone up an hour before to crash, but I guess neither could sleep.

"And?" Levi asked.

"I'll make the coffee. You do the talking ." Daniel waved at Micah, exhausted, leaning on the counter and yawning. Micah seemed more awake, or maybe he was still riding the adrenaline.

"You think the landslip is dangerously close to the old barn?" Levi asked, concern creasing his brow.

Micah stopped, his hand frozen mid-reach towards a mug of coffee. He looked more shocked than he had been about the massive scar on the property, his eyes wide and face pale as he met my gaze. Something had rattled him.

"What's wrong?" I asked, my voice low and urgent.

His expression was grim. "Nothing." His voice was barely a whisper, but the fear in it was unmistakable. No one else heard his words. He had his back to everyone, but he was spooked, and a chill ran down my spine, my muscles tensing.

"Micah? Do we need to get everyone out of here?" I asked, needing to know what had shaken him so much.

"No. We're okay, we're…" He blinked at me, then snapped out of whatever he had going on and got his co ffee. I didn't like that reaction and could only assume he was worried about the property, but he'd tell someone else, right? If he was really worried? He'd talk to Levi. To his husband?

Rachel arrived in the kitchen carrying a sleepy Oliver, Scott not far behind her. "Did I hear you mentioning the old barn?"

"Yeah, wondering how close the slip gets to it."

She huffed. "That barn needed demolishing anyway. The well's probably caved in under it."

"You think?" Levi asked.

Micah flicked me another glance, frowning, put his coffee down, clenched his fists, then crossed his arms over his chest on the next beat, as if he couldn't find a comfortable position. His agitation was palpable, a restless energy that made me wonder if it was just the landslip eating at him. Was it only me who noticed how he kept staring at me? No one answered Micah.

I inclined my head to the door, implying I was here if he wanted to talk. He shrugged and shook his head.

"We'll call someone out here to assess the damage and figure out what needs to be done next," Levi said.

I half listened to him and Rachel discussing land surveying, soil, and rock stability, and getting out an environmental engineer. I finished my coffee and set the mug down, stretching my stiff muscles, unsure where I fit into all this ranch talk, and thinking I'd go down into town and see if anyone else wanted help.

"Is there anything else I can do to help up here?" I was talking to Micah, who seemed to want to say something else, but he turned away to mess with the coffee pot .

"Nothing any of us can do until the engineer gets out here," Levi said. "Except watch the horses and hope for no rain."

"I'll get out of here, then, see if I can help down in town." Find Neil and force myself into his space as sheriff's assistant for the day. Tease him. Do rash things to make him lose his cool.

Kiss him.

Nope. No to the kissing. Kissing was for real connection, not with someone I wanted to fuck once to get him out of my system.

"I owe you one," Levi said, hugging Quinn closer. As for Quinn, he glanced up from his cozy spot with Levi and gave me a grateful smile.

"Thanks for everything, Connor. We'll catch up later."

I nodded, giving them a small wave as I headed for the door. The rain had stopped, and the sky was starting to clear. The weather forecast might be right for once when it promised a better day.

As I headed down the mountain road and back into Whisper Ridge, I could see the damage the storm had wrought overnight. The paths were riddled with debris, branches, and scattered leaves everywhere. Small streams of water still flowed down the hillside, carving new grooves into the mud. Sections of the gravel road had been washed out, forcing me to navigate deep puddles and newly formed ditches. The fields closer to town were waterlogged, with patches of standing water reflecting the morning light. Whisper Ridge bore the storm's scars, with a few damaged roofs and fallen fences visible from a distance. Daniel's car was right behind mine, and I assumed he was heading to the doctor's office. He gave a short wave when we separated as we hit town. He went to the practice, and I went home.

When I pulled to a stop outside the diner, I could see it hadn't escaped unscathed. One of the front windows was cracked, spiderwebs of fractured glass catching the early morning light. The awning hung lopsided, barely clinging to its supports, and the Lily's Diner sign dangled by a single chain. Water pooled at the entrance, seeping under the door, and the facade was battered and worn.

"Shit." I locked the car and jogged over to find Noah and Chris hefting boards to cover the broken window.

Noah was pale but focused, Chris struggling to keep his balance against the gusts of wind that hadn't abated. Fox, Noah's son, was helping, and without being asked, I joined in, taking one end of the sheet of plywood and offering it up to the window so Noah could nail it in place. Chris sagged against the door, then pushed it open to move inside, his crutch catching on the doorframe and only Noah's hand on his arm stopping him from tumbling. This place was my home, but this was Noah's business, and I really liked their little family.

"Is this the only damage?" I asked.

Noah nodded. "To the diner, yeah. We got off light—the coffee shop windows are toast."

"I'll head over there after this."

"I'll come with you as soon as I'm done here. Chris and Merle will handle the diner and keep the coffee going."

Knowing Neil would be out fixing things, I glanced toward the sheriff's office and fought the urge to track him down .

It turned out I didn't need to, given that he was already at the coffee shop directing others where to cut the branches that had smashed into her window.

"Connor," he acknowledged.

I joined the effort, grabbing a saw and working alongside volunteers to clear the debris. It was grueling work, and the storm had left a hell of a mess. While maneuvering a particularly stubborn branch, I felt a sharp stab and looked down to see blood welling from a cut on my hand. I stalked inside, grabbed some paper towel, wrapped it around the wound, and kept working. Neil watched me, his face twisted as if he'd sucked a lemon, but he didn't say anything.

Once we'd finished clearing the window, Neil grabbed my arm, pulling me away from the group. "You're getting that looked at," he insisted, his grip firm and unyielding.

"What?"

"You cut yourself," Neil snapped, sounding both worried and angry. His eyes flicked to the makeshift bandage on my hand, growling at the blood seeping through, then stared back at me with his familiar stubborn expression.

"I'm not going to waste Doc's time with a scratch," I argued, easing my arm free.

"Yes, you are."

I snorted, "Make me, Sheriff."

Neil's eyes narrowed, a determined glint in them. "I have handcuffs."

The idea of Neil putting me in handcuffs flashed through my mind, and instead of the intended threat, all I could think about was how that could be the start of a fun night in his bed. The thought of being restrained by his firm grip and authoritative presence sent a shiver of anticipation down my spine, igniting a fire that had nothing to do with anger. No one ever imagined a guy like me would love to be held down, to take a break from being in charge, but sometimes … yeah, I imagined what it would be like.

Someone to stop the urge to do stupid things.

"I might like that," I said in a low tone, and his eyes widened.

We squared off in the alley behind the diner that ran toward the surgery, the air thick with tension. His shock at the words, or irritation at me—I couldn't tell—was radiating off him in waves. Our breaths came heavy, as we each dared the other to make the next move. The intense back-and-forth, the proximity, everything seemed to blur into a single moment of charged emotion.

"Dammit, Connor!" His voice was low but fierce. "Why can't you just do what you're told for once? You're not invincible. One cut and you could get an infection. What if you'd gotten swallowed in the mud last night? Jesus, you need to listen to me and start taking things seriously!"

"I take things seriously," I shot back, matching his tone. "And I don't need a babysitter."

He winced, then his anger flared as he gripped my arm again. "I'm not trying to be your babysitter, you idiot. I'm trying to keep you from making my job a million times harder. Is that so hard for you to understand?"

"I'm not your job," I yanked my arm free. "I'm a grown fucking man, and I don't need a keeper."

Neil's face twisted in frustration. "You got between Abraham and his gun last week, Connor! Do you have any idea how reckless that was? Two weeks ago, you tried to pull a car out of a ditch using a rope and your bare strength and the fucking thing nearly flattened you. You think you're invincible, but you're not! One of these days, you're going to get yourself seriously hurt, and then what? You think I enjoy watching you risk your life like it's some game?" His voice was rising, anger and worry blending together in a raw, unfiltered outburst. "I can't keep bailing you out of these messes, Connor. You need to start thinking before you act! And if you just took one freaking minute to?—"

I pushed him up against the wall, gripping his shirt, and kissed him. Hard. Anything to stop him talking.

Time stood still. The feel of his lips against mine was electrifying, the culmination of all the snarky banter, the heated arguments, and the unresolved tension. It was everything I hadn't admitted to myself I wanted, all in one desperate act.

Neil's body went rigid, and then he responded, grabbing my shoulders and tugging me closer. The kiss was fierce, almost angry, but there was something else there too—something deeper. He was hard, and I didn't know whether to rut against him or run for my freaking life. We were both breathless when we pulled apart, staring at each other with shock and something dangerously close to longing.

I stumbled back, adrenaline coursing through me. "There," I said, my voice rough. "One way to shut you up."

Neil's eyes were dark, his breathing uneven. "You fucking asshole. "

"Takes one to know one." Great comeback. Not .

I waited for him to hit me, and even though I could take him down in a second, I knew I'd let him get in the first hit. Hell, I wouldn't fight at all. What kind of man forces a kiss on someone?

He gripped my jacket and dragged me closer, temper in his eyes. "You. Fucking. Asshole," he repeated.

I braced myself for impact, only he kissed me. Hard and then gentler, his hands still twisted in my jacket, tasting every inch of me. I could feel his cock hard against my thigh, and I whimpered.

I freaking whimpered into his mouth, and it was that sound that made him step back.

"Wow," I muttered, wiping my mouth with my uninjured hand.

"You…" He was flailing to find words, his pupils fat, his lips shiny, and his breathing labored.

"I'm an asshole, I know, you said already."

He poked my chest. "Why won't you just leave town." Neil's anger hadn't dissipated; if anything, it seemed more intense. "You think you can distract me with a kiss, and it'll be fine?"

"You kissed me!"

"You kissed me first!" he shouted, then closed his eyes briefly and attempted to settle his breathing. I was torn between patting his shoulder and kissing him again, but first, I needed to get my libido in check and my breathing right.

"You make me insane!" he snapped.

"Maybe you like that?" I deadpanned, and maybe that was the wrong tone because he stiffened .

"This reckless shit is exactly what I'm talking about!"

"Kissing you wasn't reckless, it was necessary." Hell, I couldn't think of another word that described knowing I needed to kiss him like I needed to breathe.

After a moment of him vibrating with emotion, he rested a hand over my heart.

"You're not indestructible."

And then he straightened, stepped away from me, and turned to leave.

"Neil?" I asked in a soft tone, and he glanced over his shoulder. "We need to talk about more kissing."

He snorted a laugh. "In your fucking dreams, asshole."