Chapter 4

Hank climbed out of the truck and stretched. He'd just dropped Macie off at her apartment, so she could get ready for work. And he had every intention of being at the restaurant when she got off work. He wasn't willing to entertain the idea of not spending the night with her anytime in the near future, and he'd told her that in no uncertain terms.

She'd made some funny comment before they parted about how he really needed to brush up on his "playing it cool" skills. He'd given her a kiss that made sure she understood he never intended anything between them to be cool…or even lukewarm. She inspired heat, fire, flames, ravaging infernos.

Besides, he was too old to play all those stupid dating games. Hell, he hadn't done that when he was young. He'd laid eyes on Sharon when he was just twenty-two. They went out on all of six dates before he proposed. Porter had given him shit for rushing it, but even he had admitted several years after the wedding that Hank had found the perfect bride.

Crazy thing was…as certain as Hank had been about Sharon, he was even more sure of Macie. He was falling hard for the woman, and while it was becoming obvious that her experience when it came to romance and relationships was basically nonexistent, there was something about her that screamed forever. If the jackasses in Maris hadn't cottoned onto that long before now, that was their loss. Hank wasn't going to make the same mistake. They'd all had their chance and blown it. Now she was his.

The sound of a tool clinking against concrete and a muttered curse caught his attention. Porter was underneath their old ranch pickup, lying on a creeper, changing the oil. All Hank could see were the man's legs sticking out.

Hank stuffed the keys to his own truck in his front pocket and walked over. Time for a chat with his ranch manager.

Porter must have sensed his arrival because he requested a wrench as soon as Hank got within a few feet of him.

Hank retrieved the tool from the box nearby, then bent down to hand it Porter. He couldn't see the man's face. This conversation was one he wanted to have eye to eye. But he didn't get a chance to stall when Porter asked, "Where'd you take off to so early this morning?"

Macie had only been here two nights, and it was clear from his question Porter hadn't realized she'd been there.

"Had to take Macie back to town. She's working the lunch and dinner shifts."

Porter's body went still. "Macie, huh?"

As far as replies went, that one was damn vague. "She's spent the last couple of nights here."

Whatever shock he might have experienced appeared to have passed as Porter started working again. Neither of them said anything else as Porter removed the plug and Hank listened as oil began draining out. Porter wheeled himself out on the flat cart and then sat up.

His gaze met Hank's. "'Bout time you made your move."

Hank nodded. "Not that easy to just hop back in the saddle, Port."

"Yeah, I get that, man." Porter Cormack was more than Hank's ranch manager, he was his best friend. The man had come to work on the Cooper ranch back when Hank's daddy ran the place. They'd worked side by side then as hands. They'd break their backs during the week on the ranch, and then tear it up on the weekends, doing more than their fair share of drinking and partying. All of that felt like a lifetime ago.

Hank's father had a stroke well over two decades earlier and died within weeks. Hank's partying years were cut short. It had been up to him to take over the family business, so he'd proposed to Sharon, the girl he was sweet on shortly after his father's funeral, married her, moved her in with him and his mother, and promoted Porter to ranch manager.

Porter, a good friend, had eschewed the bar scene with him, declaring it was time they both grew up and got their shit together. However, unlike Hank, Porter hadn't met a woman able to drag him to the altar. A confirmed bachelor, Porter claimed he was happy with his life just like it was.

Hank's mother only lived a few years longer than his father. With his daddy gone, it was as if she'd lost the will to live. At that point, Porter and Sharon became Hank's family. And when Sharon passed, that family shrunk to just the two of them. Which was why this conversation needed to happen.

"She told me about the two of you and the night you spent together."

Hank had to hand it to Porter. The man had one hell of a poker face, always playing his cards close to his chest.

"Okay." Porter's voice was deep, quiet, emotionless.

"Sort of surprised you never mentioned it."

"She told you when it happened?"

Last year. Right after Sharon's death. "She did. And I can see keeping it quiet at the time, but…" But it had become increasingly obvious in the last few months that Hank was interested in Macie. Hell, Porter was the one to point that out.

"You and Macie are a good match. Didn't want to get in the way of you asking her out. Figured what happened between her and me didn't matter. It was one time. Neither of us was looking for more than that night. And to be honest, there was a lot of whiskey involved."

"Yeah. That's what she said."

"She was torn up about her friend Johnnie's death, and…"

Porter didn't bother to finish his thought, but Hank got it just the same. Neither one of them was very good at saying Sharon's name out loud to each other. Even now. Her death had left a hole. In both of their lives.

"You sure you're okay with me and Macie being together?" Hank forced himself to ask.

Porter gave him a curious look. "Why wouldn't I be? Hell, man, I was the one who told you to pull your thumb out and ask the girl for a dance."

Hank shrugged. "Maybe so, but, well…dammit, you were there first."

Porter laughed. "So what?"

"So I feel like I might have stepped on your toes or something. I mean, Macie's a hell of a catch."

Porter rolled his eyes. "Jesus, Coop. You've got it bad. Macie is a handful on a good day and most men in town know that. You're the only one who doesn't seem to get worn out by all that talking of hers. So believe me when I say, I'm fine letting you take that whirlwind on."

Hank frowned, unable to understand how Porter could have had Macie in his arms for a single second and let her go. "You're kidding, right? Macie is as sweet as they come."

For a moment, it appeared Hank had rendered his friend speechless.

When Porter failed to respond, Hank continued, "There's not a damn thing hard about being with her. She's beautiful, straightforward, honest. I never have to guess what she's thinking."

Porter's grin grew as Hank made his list. "Yeah. That. Right there. The woman tells you every thought in her head. As she's having them."

Hank lifted one shoulder casually, dismissing that complaint. "I don't mind. I think she's interesting. Funny."

"Which is why the right man is dating her. It's cool, Coop. You didn't steal my thunder or my girl or whatever it is you're worrying about. You and Macie are a good couple and," Porter paused, swallowing heavily, "I'm really glad you found her. Unlike me, you were not made to live alone. You were born to love a woman. She's lucky to have you."

And then, because it appeared to have embarrassed him to have said something nice, Porter turned away from him, opening up a fresh can of oil. "Not sure oil is going to make this hunk of junk run any better."

Before Hank could thank him for the kind words, the sound of a car coming down their lane caught his attention.

Porter's murmured "shit" clued him in to who was arriving even before he turned around. Hank had been surprised Janice hadn't made an appearance at his place last night, questioning him about Macie, but then he remembered Wednesday was her book club night. Sharon had been in the same club, attending the meetings right up until the cancer left her too weak to walk.

He forced himself not to scowl as Janice parked the car and emerged. She smiled and waved, but Hank didn't return either gesture. In truth, his patience with his wife's best friend was at an end.

Sharon, God bless her, had asked Janice to keep an eye on him after her passing. Somewhere along the line, Janice had changed the interpretation of that request from something friendly to something much more. In her mind, she'd twisted those words to mean she should be the next Mrs. Hank Cooper, and while he had taken care thus far not to hurt her feelings—out of respect for Sharon—that kindness was wearing thin.

"Janice," he said.

"Hey, Coop, Porter," she said with a sunny smile. She was a friendly, if flighty, woman. He'd teased Sharon a bit when she was alive, constantly wondering how an intelligent woman such as her could hang around with an airhead like Janice.

"Janice," Porter said, looking far too pleased when he plopped himself back down on the low cart and wheeled himself under the truck once more. Bastard had found an escape. Porter had been telling Hank for weeks he was going to have to be more forceful with Janice. Simply telling the woman he wasn't interested in dating her clearly wasn't enough.

Thing was, Hank's daddy had raised him to be respectful of women, and he was afraid nothing short of hurting Janice's feelings was going to convince her to move on.

Janice held out a loaf of homemade applesauce cake. "I was baking this morning and thought I'd bring you by a treat. I know how you love my applesauce cake."

Hank took the loaf and thanked her. One of the main reasons he'd started taking so many meals at Sparks Barbeque was to avoid Janice, who'd stopped by almost nightly with a plate of food for him right after Sharon's death.

"I was wondering if you wanted to come over for dinner tonight. I'm making your favorite," she added, "fried chicken."

Hank took a deep breath. Time to let her down. Again. "I can't, Janice. I've got plans with Macie."

Janice tilted her head. "What sort of plans?"

"A date."

"Another one?"

He nodded. "I'm going out with Macie now."

Janice laughed as if he'd told a funny joke. Hank wasn't sure how to react to that. Half the time, he didn't have a clue what Janice was thinking.

"She's a bit young for you, isn't she? Is this some sort of midlife crisis thing?"

He shook his head, fighting hard to hold on to his temper. "Not at all. She's my girlfriend."

Janice didn't appear to pick up on his tone. A wise person would have known he was annoyed, and backed off.

"Well, I'm sure she's the perfect person for you to dip your toes back into the water with. After all, she's a professional dater, isn't she? Figure you're about the only man in Maris she hasn't gone out with."

Hank heard a soft groan from beneath the truck behind him. Porter was listening to every word, and even he knew she's just crossed a very big line.

"I don't think that's true at all. And I'm not dipping my toe in anything, Janice. Macie and I are dating. And it's serious." At least, it was in his mind.

He was worried he might still have to convince Macie his feelings were sincere. For as confident as the woman was, Macie had mentioned not being his type a couple of times since their first date. Apparently, she felt the shadow of Sharon hovering over her. He supposed that was to be expected. He had been married for a long time. Obviously it was going to take him more than just three days to convince Macie she was his type too.

Janice smiled, almost indulgently. "I understand."

Hank was fairly certain she didn't. But this time he was determined to put an end to whatever foolish nonsense she'd cooked up in her head that had her thinking he was ever going to ask her out. "You do? You understand that she's my girlfriend and that, much as I appreciate the meals and the baked goods and stuff, it's really not appropriate for you to keep stopping by like this?"

Janice nodded and pointed at the loaf of applesauce cake. "Of course I do. Enjoy that." With that, she walked back to her car. "I'll see you again soon," she called out as she got in and drove away.

Porter slid back out from under the truck.

"Thanks for the support there, buddy," Hank said, sarcastically.

Porter gave him a shit-eating grin. "Oh, sorry. Didn't realize you needed help."

"Jackass."

"You're going to have to be more direct than that, Coop."

Hank suspected his friend was right, but the contrary part of him spoke up instead. "What's more direct than telling her Macie is my girlfriend and to stop coming by?"

Porter shook his head. "Not sure, but there's no way she would have acted as breezy and carefree as she just did if she'd really given up on you. That woman's tenacious as a bulldog with a bone."

"Last six times she's been here, I've told her I don't want to date her. Ever. I'm not sure what the hell else I'm supposed to do. Tattoo it on my forehead?"

"Not sure even that would be enough. Woman is fixated on you and this future she's created in her head—with your dead wife's permission."

Hank sighed. "I know. Sharon would know how to deal with this, but…" He shrugged, unable to speak the rest of his thought.

"But if Sharon was here, you wouldn't have this trouble," Porter finished.

"To hell with Janice. I've told her I'm dating Macie. Maybe once she's seen the two of us together a few times, it'll sink in and she'll move on."

Porter didn't look convinced. "Maybe."

"You finished changing that oil?"

Porter shook his head. "Nope. Was too busy hiding under the truck. I'll wrap it up now."

Hank chuckled. "Coward. I'm gonna get some stuff done in the barn."

Hank spent the better part of the next two hours working on repairing a broken chainsaw. He'd just finished when he heard another car coming down the lane.

Jesus Christ. He wiped his hands off and stormed out of the barn, ready to tell Janice—once and for all—to stay the fuck away from him. He was done being nice.

He rounded the corner just as Macie closed her car door and started toward him. She stopped suddenly, frowning when she saw his face.

"Um, sorry," she muttered. "This is obviously a bad time."

Hank lifted one hand quickly and shook his head. One look at her and the fury he felt vanished. "No, no. It's a good time."

"You just looked really pissed off to see me."

Hank walked toward her. "I'm never going to be pissed off to see you, Whiskey." He grasped her waist and pulled her close, stealing a quick kiss. "Didn't expect to see you back here so soon. Did you forget something?"

She tightened her grip around his neck and stole a kiss of her own, adding some tongue and letting it linger just long enough to send all the blood in his body straight to his dick.

"No. I brought lunch for you. I didn't cook it," she was quick to reassure him as she pointed toward the plastic bag she'd placed on the hood of her car. "It's from the restaurant. Sort of planned to use that as an excuse to come see you. Was going to surprise you with a picnic. But the truth is, I missed you. And I'm horny as shit."

Hank laughed. "You don't need to use food as an excuse to visit, Macie. Hell, just the horny part would be enough reason for me."

"I was taking you at your word when you said I didn't have to play things cool. So I hope it's not freaking you out that I'm back here already. Does this make me look clingy or needy?"

He kissed her gently on the cheek. She was a breath of fresh air. Her honesty, her willingness to put herself out there so completely, was probably one of the things he found most attractive about her. "Nope. Truth is, I was just finishing up my chores and fighting like the devil not to get into my truck and drive to you."

She ran her hand down the front of his chest, her fingers toying with the buttons on his shirt. "I wouldn't have complained."

"This way is better. Means the difference between me taking you on a flat surface in the privacy of my house or up against a wall in the storage closet of the restaurant with half your family outside the door."

Macie snorted. "God. What does it say about me that I think both those options sound hot as hell?"

"It says you're perfect for me." Hank backed her toward the side of the barn, pressing closer to give her a much deeper kiss. Macie gave herself up to it—and him—without reservation. Her hands slid around his waist, tugging his shirt out of his jeans so she could slip her fingers beneath to stroke his bare back.

Hank's fingers did some exploring themselves, finding her breasts and cupping them, before squeezing more firmly. Macie groaned against his lips, the sound fueling his need even more.

"Jesus. Don't make me turn the hose on you two."

Hank slowly withdrew from the embrace at the sound of Porter's voice.

Macie glanced over toward his ranch manager. "Hey, Porter."

"Hey, Mace." Porter was grinning at the two of them. "That's quite a show you're putting on there, but you might want to have mercy on the dozen or so single guys around here who still have a day's worth of work to do. Making it pretty hard for us to concentrate."

"Good point. Time to move this inside." Hank grasped Macie's hand and started to lead her to the house. He was surprised when she resisted.

"What about the food?"

"Food?" Porter asked.

Macie laughed and pointed toward her car when it became apparent Hank wasn't turning around for a couple of sandwiches. "It's in the bag. Help yourself," she called over her shoulder.

Once they entered the house, Hank closed the door, then turned and pressed Macie against it, resuming the kiss they'd started by the barn.

"I missed you too," he murmured as he pulled her T-shirt over her head. "I thought you had to work. How much time do we have?"

"Got my dad to man the bar for me. Jackass never does any work these days. It'll be good for him." As she spoke, Macie kicked off her shoes.

"He didn't mind?" he asked as he unfastened her jeans and worked the denim over her hips and off.

"Nope. He's over the moon about you and me. The man's way too obsessed with me getting married and giving him grandbabies."

Macie, whose hands had been roaming all over his chest, froze. "I mean, not that I think…that we're…" She blew out a frustrated breath. "That came out wrong. I know we've only been seeing each other a few days. I wasn't implying that…" Once again, she stopped, clearly struggling to dig herself out of what she presumed was one hell of a hole.

Hank let her off the hook—as he unhooked her bra. "Whiskey, you're talking to a man who was happily married for twenty years. The idea of weddings and kids doesn't freak me out in the slightest. I liked being married a hell of a lot better than being alone."

"Yeah, but, God, I swear sometimes it's like my mouth is moving twenty miles ahead of my brain."

"Just part of your charm."

"No one else has ever found that charming."

"The world is full of idiots."

Their conversation ended when Hank bent his head and sucked one of her nipples into his mouth. Macie's hands flew to his head as her own flew back against the door.

"Oh my God. This. This is what I missed. I don't know what you've done to me, Hank Cooper, but I'm so fucking addicted to this. To you."

"Good," he murmured, as he continued to suckle on her nipple, dragging one finger along the slit between her thighs.

Macie was wet and squirming for more.

"We're not going to make it to the bedroom," he said as he lifted his head. Wrapping one arm around her waist, he propelled her toward the living room. Pressing her back on the couch, he unhooked his own jeans, pushed them just below his hips, tugged out his cock, knelt between her outspread legs and thrust into heaven.

Finesse was not the order of the day. He took Macie hard and fast, rutting like a dog in heat as her back arched and her eyes closed. Rubbing her clit, he drove her to orgasm fast, loving the way her pussy clenched against his hard flesh. Hank continued to thrust throughout—feeling the peak of her climax and then the slow ebbing.

Once she landed, he increased his pace, driving her back up. When she came a second time, he was there with her, emptying himself into her, loving her hoarse cries and the way her body trembled as her orgasm waned.

He held himself over her with his elbows on the couch. It took them several minutes to catch their breath enough to speak.

"Would you laugh if I broke into the chorus of ‘Afternoon Delight'?" Macie asked.

"Jesus. That's an old one."

"My mom loves that song. Which is now a very disturbing fact, so maybe we'll just skip the song after all."

Hank winked. "Much as I love the idea of you serenading me, I need to get back to work."

Macie sighed. "Yeah. Me too. Dammit."

Hank rose slowly, hitching his jeans back around his hips and fastening them. Meanwhile, as always, Macie's clothes were too far away to reach. "How come I'm always naked and you're barely undressed?"

"Thought we covered that already."

"Lord-of-the-manor thing still in effect?"

"Always." Hank tugged her onto his lap, cuddling her. He was thrilled she'd shown up here on her own to surprise him. "How late do you work tonight?"

She grimaced. "I'm closing. Won't get off until after eleven. Probably too late for me to drive out here."

He agreed. He didn't want her on the road alone that late. "So I'll meet you at your place after."

"Really?" Her face reflected pure delight.

"Give me your key. I'll meet you in your bed at eleven-fifteen."

"Naked," she said resolutely. "I want you to be naked. My place, my turn to be lady of the manor."

Hank chuckled. "I look forward to watching you try."

"I'm sure you do." Her tone and expression told him she already knew it was a lost cause. He'd never handed the reins over in the bedroom and he didn't intend to start now. Old dog. New tricks. Not happening. But knowing his girl, she was still going to give it a run for her money.

"Your family going to give you a hard time when you go back to work?"

Macie shrugged. "They'll probably tease me a little bit. My dad will caution me not to scare you away like all the other fellas in town. But other than that…well…let's face it, what you and I have going on here is vanilla city compared to Jeannette and her firefighters, and Tyson's new relationship with Harley and Caleb."

"I've never been called vanilla before."

She laughed. "Aw. Did I hurt your big studly male pride?"

He tickled her as she fought to escape, trying to squirm away. Hank guided her to her back on the couch once more, covering her. "Don't poke the bear."

She drove one finger into his waist a few times. "Poke. Poke."

Hank recalled Macie's concern over her one-night stand with Porter and her need to be completely honest with him. He owed her the same. He remained above her, caging her beneath him. His actions weren't as subconscious as they should be. In truth, he was making sure she couldn't run if she didn't like what he told her next.

"You ever consider a threesome?" he asked.

Macie snorted. "In case you failed to notice, Hank, I've spent this long finding just one guy who could tolerate me with my constant chatter, off-color humor and never-ending opinions. By the way, I'm not sure what that says about you. You might want to consider talking to a therapist."

He chuckled at her joke. "I'm being serious. Pretend it's in the realm of possibility. Would you want to do that?"

"Are you worried this is a family trait?"

"Do I sound worried?"

Something sparked in her eyes and he watched as she processed his question. "Have you ever?" She paused and reconsidered. "But no. You couldn't. You and Sharon. Never mind."

"I've done the threesome thing, Macie."

Her eyes went wide. "Seriously? When? With who? How the hell did you manage to keep that a secret in this town?"

"With Sharon. And Porter."

Her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to piece together what he was telling her. Before she could get too carried away, he quickly explained, not wanting her to jump to the wrong conclusions.

"Sharon wanted to try it. So Porter and I surprised her on her birthday. Don't get me wrong, Mace. Sharon and me, we were a couple. Just the two of us. But Porter, well, every now and then, he'd join us in bed."

"So it was more sex position than relationship?"

He shrugged. "I guess that's one way to say it."

"Did you and Porter?—"

Hank shook his head. "We were there for Sharon. Not each other."

If he expected to render Macie speechless, he was a fool. Nothing seemed to knock her down.

"And you're saying that you would," she bit her lower lip for just a moment, "want to do that with me?"

"Whiskey, we'll never do anything you don't want to do, that you're not comfortable with."

"Did you and Porter talk about this?"

"No. Absolutely not. I don't want secrets between us, Macie. There's nothing that's happened in your past that will change the way I feel about you today. You understand that, right?"

She nodded and he could see she was finally starting to believe him about that.

He decided to drive home another point while he was at it. "I don't want you to be afraid to ask me for anything you might want."

"Like Sharon asked you for the threesome?"

"Like that."

As always, her thoughts went off in a completely different direction. "Do you think we're going too fast?"

He grinned. "I don't. But if you do, we can slow down."

Macie dismissed that offer in an instant. "Oh no. I don't want that. I've waited a lifetime for something like this. It's romantic. And hot. And I like it. A lot. I like you a lot."

Hank kissed the end of her nose. "I like you too, Whiskey. A lot."