27. When Chickens Come A-Roostin’

The clock read two fifteen when they fell back against the pillows, sated and sweaty on Noah's rumpled bed. The thing looked as though he had invited a herd of elephants to perform acrobatics on it and hadn't bothered straightening the sheets when the act was over. In fact, he wasn't even sure where the top sheet and quilts had gone, nor did he care. He was reveling in the best sex of his life—so incredible that every other experience had been wiped from his memory banks, and only Hailey remained.

It wasn't only the monkey sex they had engaged in that had torn up the covers, though. They'd fed each other meals—sustenance—in that bed. They'd polished off a third of a bottle of tequila. They'd shared an expired cheesecake pilfered from the tavern's walk-in. They'd listened to five minutes of the Pirate History Podcast before getting distracted by each other's bodies all over again.

The bed had been the center of their existence since they'd locked themselves in his apartment—if one didn't take into account the butcher block, the couch, and outstanding shower sex. Hey, they had to get cleaned up after the activity. He'd probably sweated off ten pounds.

In short, Noah had left his worries outside his door and lost himself worshipping at the altar of Hailey all night. He couldn't get enough of her. The sensual sounds she made—the ones that told him how much she liked his ministrations—spurred him to pull more from her. A blend of sighs and purrs and moans, they fired up his already overheated blood. His favorite, though, was when she gasped out his name.

Whether it was the woman herself or the way he manipulated her body, she was a responsive, enthusiastic lover who participated in her own pleasure by letting him know where to go and what to do. And she gave as good as she got. He'd never been so in tune with another being. If it was possible for a person to fit you like your favorite jeans, she was that for him. Soft, comfortable, and snug in the very best places, and he loved it.

He reached for a water bottle and offered it to her, and when she returned a glazed look, he shook it. "Gotta keep my girl hydrated." The sentence slipped out before he'd processed it through his cautionary filter. My girl?

She let out a giggle-snort. "Letting your girl dry up and blow away would crimp your plans for the rest of tonight's contact sports." She took a long sip and handed it back to him before reclining on her back. The crook of one elbow rested atop her head, and her hair was a wild spill across the pillow. She was perfection, a goddess, and his eyes prowled her from head to toe. The bedside lamp was still on, and though it wasn't bright, it accentuated her glorious bare curves on full display. It also illuminated her puffy, cracked lip, making him flinch inside when his gaze landed on it.

He feathered his thumb pad over the tear. "Damn, I think I made this ten times worse."

She turned her head toward him. "Maybe, but it was worth it. What you did to it was far more pleasant than the way I got it."

He stretched out on his side and bent his arm under his bunched pillow so he could look her in the eye. Unable to stop touching her, he traced little circles on the silky skin along her hip with his free hand.

"About that," he began. "I have a question that's been bugging me."

Those big blues blinked. "You want to know about when I first started crushing on you, don't you?"

His earlier lust-soaked brain had forgotten her puzzling comment. "That wasn't the question, but now that you mention it …"

"I saw you during my first visit to Fall River. It was in May last year, right around your grand opening."

His eyebrows jumped to his hairline. "Where?"

A shy smile tugged her lips. "You were working behind the bar. I was hungry and came inside, but the wait was over an hour, so I left."

"You're kidding! Did I see you?"

She shook her head. "No. You were entertaining a line of women perched on the barstools—or they were entertaining you, I'm not sure which. You did look up once, but you didn't notice me. I think you were checking the crowd at the front door. I watched you manhandle the shaker, got all hot and bothered, and left."

He burst out with a laugh. "Manhandle the shaker? Is that a thing?"

Her eyes made a languid sweep of his body. "Don't underestimate how sexy that is, barkeep. All those flexing muscles? Yum. Makes this girl want to lick them all."

Heat crawled up his neck, kindled by the ridiculous amount of pleasure he got from her comment. Was he actually blushing? Rather than invite her to lick away, which was what he wanted to do, he opted for decorum. "I'm sorry. I'm sure if I'd seen you, I would've noticed you."

A hint of sadness shone in her irises. "I don't think so. I was in my inspector uniform. You would've have run out the back door screaming."

"Oh, I don't know about that. You in your ‘inspector uniform' could be really hot—especially if you're not wearing anything underneath. I'd start by unwinding that tight little bun of yours. Next I'd pop the buttons on that starchy blouse, lay it wide open, and lap at every inch of skin from your sternum to your belly button." He waggled his eyebrows and ran the tip of his index finger from her collarbone, between her breasts, to said belly button. "The sensible shoes would have to go, though."

She let out a throaty, sexy laugh. "I see what you did there. Well, now I feel much better about that inspector uniform."

He continued trailing his fingertip over her skin. "Why were you in town anyway?"

She went on to explain how she'd inspected Dell's that day, and though she wouldn't share details, she told Noah how uncomfortable Keating had made her.

"Shit! That explains why he reacted the way he did when he saw you on Saint Patrick's Day. I didn't get that, but now it makes perfect sense." Noah barked a laugh. "You wrote him up last year? Why does that warm my little black heart?"

"You don't have a black heart, Noah. That man's a snake. In fact, he makes snakes look like cute little geckos."

"You won't get an argument from me. How did he treat you the other day when you went in with your, er, with Meissner?"

Eyes locked on his, she picked up his hand and softly kissed his fingers one by one, sending fresh bolts of electricity straight to his dick. "Thanks for not calling him my boss, even though he pretty much was. It didn't matter that he didn't deserve to be or that he wormed his way into the position by cheating." She let out a long-suffering sigh. "As for the great Bruno Keating, he mostly ignored me. They both did. I did the work while they stood by—" Her eyes widened.

"Stood by and what, babe?" Another endearment sneaked past his filter, but she seemed too engrossed by whatever light bulbs were flaring inside her head to notice.

"Uh, they watched me go through my process. Probably trying to catch me screwing up." The wide-eyed look transformed back into that lazy, well-fucked expression. "What was the real question you wanted to ask?"

The abrupt change threw him for a beat.

"It's about this." He brushed a fingertip over her lip, following with a stroke over her bruised cheekbone. "And this. And your wrist. I want to know everything that happened. Neve said you paid a hefty price for standing up to Meissner, but I couldn't get any more out of her."

Hesitation and a flicker of fear darkened her eyes to a shade of ultramarine.

"Sweetheart," he persisted, "I want to know. I want to understand what you've been going through."

Apparently, his filter was turned off, but right now he didn't give a fuck. He also didn't give a fuck that he sounded like a guy who was in deep with a woman who was occupying more and more space in his heart.

Her eyes grew glossy. "But I shut you down. Why would you care—"

He placed a finger against her lips. "Stop. I do care. I have no idea how those mice got there, but I do know you were stuck between a rock and a hard place and you had absolutely no chips to play."

The anger Noah had harbored against Hailey had completely fizzled. Even before he'd caged her against the door downstairs hours ago, he'd moved past pouting and sulking. The shutdown might have been bogus, but she hadn't orchestrated it. She was incapable of that level of deceitfulness.

"I also know it had to have been bad because you quit a job you told me you'd keep forever. You gave up a lot, Hailey, and you did it on the spur of the moment. That's not something the surfer girl who was curled up with me in my truck would do."

Tenderness he'd never experienced before reflected in her orbs, making him feel twelve feet tall. "Not exactly the spur. I stayed up all night agonizing over the decision."

He ran the back of his finger along her soft cheek. "So tell me what drove you to it."

She did. And by the time she was done with her tale, his jaw ticked and his hands were balled into fists. Tearing Cliff Meissner limb from limb would let the fucker off way too easily.

Noah awoke to his buzzing phone and the wonderful, warm weight of naked Hailey plastered against his back. He grabbed at the stupid device, shocked at the time when he picked it up. It was almost nine in the morning.

"Mmph?" he managed when he answered Charlie's golden retriever face.

"Noah?"

The woman's voice sent unpleasant jolts coursing through him. Shit! He hauled himself upright, careful not to disturb his surfer girl. She rolled away from him with a sweet sigh that made him want to toss the phone, follow her under the covers, and kiss her lush mouth until he swallowed that sigh.

His surfer girl. What a difference a night made.

"Noah?" the voice repeated, and the electrical prods returned.

He slid out of bed, fully awake, his senses on high alert. "Yeah." His voice was smoky and rough, sounding like he'd just emerged from a burning building.

"I didn't wake you, did I?"

"What's up?" He hurried down the stairs and closed himself inside the bathroom. "How did you get ahold of Charlie's phone?"

Sandy trilled. "Well, I misplaced mine, and he was here working, so I asked if I could use his. He was sweet enough to let me."

Charlie's grunt came through loud and clear.

The shocks grew stronger. "You're here? In Fall River?"

"Not just in Fall River. I'm downstairs in this gorgeous bar of yours. I had no idea! Can I come up?"

Shit, shit, fuck!

He lowered the toilet seat and sat down before he fell over, nearly gasping when his bare ass hit the cold surface. "No, I'm not there right now," he lied—and cursed some more under his breath.

"Oh. But your truck's here. And your dog, apparently. I didn't know you'd gotten a dog. When will you be back?"

Chance was downstairs? Of course he was. And he'd want to get upstairs, where he felt safe. "Not for hours. Why are you here, Sandy?"

"I missed you." Her voice went weak and wobbly, and his annoyance ratcheted up. She'd invaded his town, his sanctuary!

"I want to see you," she sniffled. "I have another reason for being here, but I need to tell you in person."

Five-alarm bells clanged. No, she couldn't be pregnant. During their recent encounter, they'd only had sex a few times, and he'd been extremely careful. At least he'd had that much sense when it came to her.

"I can't right now, Sandy," he said lamely. Could she just go away? "Why don't you tell me on the phone?"

"Can I wait for you here and tell you when you get back?"

"No," he practically shouted. "You'll be in Charlie's way."

"Oh."

"Sandy," he gritted out, "why did you come all this way?"

She dropped her voice. "After you told me about your troubles with waitstaff, I decided to take you up on your offer. I quit my waitressing job in Denver to help you. That's why I'm here, Noah." She giggled.

Offer? What offer?Oh no, no, no, noooo!

"Sandy, that was … I'm not … My place is closed. I'm not hiring anyone."

"Yes, but you'll be back up and running soon, and you'll need me. In the meantime, we can have sexy times again," she hissed into the phone.

Oh fuck no!

Time to put on his big-boy pants. "Sandy, that's just not going to work. I'm afraid you drove all this way for nothing."

"B-but I'm already here, and … I don't want to drive all the way back, Noah. Not today. I can't. And I gave up my job! Where am I supposed to go?" Her reedy voice was like nails on a chalkboard.

He bit his tongue before he could hurl out, "I don't give a fuck," or, "You should have thought of that before you drove up here."

Charlie mumbled something in the background.

"A hotel?" she screeched away from the phone. "Charlie says I should go to a hotel, but I don't have that kind of money. I thought I could stay with you." Her flare of indignation at the hotel suggestion fizzled and shifted into a whiny whimper.

Noah propped his elbow on his knee and dropped his forehead in his palm. Shit! He was going to have to straighten her out in person and get her to leave. "You can't stay with me. We're under construction, my place is too small … There's a nice coffee shop down the street. Hang out there until I get back." Oh, bad idea. He didn't want Sandy blabbing to Amy. "Or better yet, there's a motel just outside of town. It's cheap. Go check yourself in there for tonight so you can rest up for your drive tomorrow. If you don't have the money, I'll cover it."

Oh, that wouldn't look suspicious. Luanne sometimes chipped in when they needed extra help at the front desk, and Sandy was bound to tell everyone why she was here, which meant Luanne would tell everyone else. Even without Luanne working the front desk, word would spread like a wildfire under a hot wind.

The morning that had been perfect for the first five seconds was turning into a fucking nightmare.

Charlie came on the phone. "Sorry, bro," he mumbled. "I was caught off guard."

"Is she standing right there?"

"No. I'm by the front door, and she's checking out the … beer taps? Okay, then. Look, I'll take Chance with me, and she can follow me to the motel."

"Leave Chance behind. I need my dog." Wow. Mushy about Hailey and about Chance, two living beings he didn't know existed a few weeks ago. His man card was definitely going to get shredded.

"Huh. Weird," Charlie continued. "Now the chick's touching the bourbon bottles behind the bar and looking over your stack of glasses. Is she the type to throw shit?"

"I don't know about throwing shit, but she's definitely acting stalkerish." Noah shuddered and once more asked himself why he had run headlong into the same thorny thicket it had taken him months to disentangle himself from before. Why had he even considered traveling back down that same path loaded with goatheads?

"Hey, maybe Hailey will let you hide out at the Loose Moose. Nah, never mind. She hates your guts, and you hate hers."

"Not so much," Noah blurted.

"Huh?"

"Never mind. Just please get Sandy the hell out of there while I come up with a plan." That doesn't include messing up things with Hailey. "I'll owe you big-time."

Charlie scoffed. "Just add it to your tab, bro. But I'm warning you, that sucker's getting hefty."

Noah sat for a few moments, head in his hand, replaying the problem as he tried on and discarded various solutions. Nothing worked.

A soft rap came at the door. "Noah? I really need to use the potty. Is it okay if I go down—"

He whipped open the door. "No!" Running his gaze over delectable, thoroughly naked Hailey Bailey with her sex-tousled hair, marble-smooth skin, and pert nipples begging for his mouth had him sucking in air and immediately spewing, "Holy Jesus Christ, look at you!" She was fucking gorgeous, even first thing in the morning. His dick stood right the hell up and took notice.

She gave him an indulgent smile. "Aw, you're sweet, but I really, really have to pee!"

He moved to get out of her way, but as they maneuvered in the tiny bathroom, his dick continually grazed her, as if it were a missile locked on to its target.

She brushed her fingers over his length. "Hold that tempting thought, you handsome hunk of man meat. I'll be out in a minute, and you can have your way with me … again." She giggled and closed the door, leaving him staring at it like a moron.

I don't want to lose this.

"There could be manhandling involved," he quipped.

"Oh God, I hope so," she called back. "Shake me, shake me, barkeep."

His cock throbbed and wept.

Turning away, he raked his fingers through his hair, reminding himself he had to deal with the fallout of his lapse in judgment before he could ravish Hailey again. His libido piped up: Did he really need to solve his Sandy problem right now? Couldn't he release said libido and return to the dilemma after? He'd probably think better after sex anyway. No, he'd likely only be capable of laying plans for more sex with Hailey. What the hell was wrong with him?

His mind, body, and soul were stuck on one track, that's what was wrong. Wrong wasn't the right word, but still, he had turned into an utter sap overnight. He'd never been in Mushy World before, but Christ, he had it bad for his surfer girl. Yes, his.

And this predicament made his issue even thornier because once Hailey knew about Sandy, there was a significant possibility the girl he was falling for would ride the waves right out of his life and his future.

"Must have coffee," he muttered.

He got busy preparing it, and as he hit the brew button, arms snaked around his middle and soft, warm curves pressed against his back. "Miss me?" his surfer girl whispered.

Wheeling, he took in her sparkling, amused blues before pulling her against him. I will.

"So damn much," he said on a sigh. He kissed the top of her head, searching among his scattered thoughts, which was nearly impossible with Hailey's skin sliding against his and his logical brain missing in action.

"Coffee ready?" she murmured against his chest.

"Almost. Now don't forget. We have a date tonight, babe."

"Um, what?"

"Sorry. Do you mind that I call you ‘babe'?"

"You can call me anything you want. I was surprised by the date." She parked her chin on his chest and looked up, a question mark on her face. "Didn't you call it off?"

"Eh, I just wanted to see if you were paying attention." He tried to keep it light, but his dilemma was overpowering the mood.

"I was paying attention." The cute little pleats between her caramel-colored brows deepened, as though she could read his nagging thoughts. "You seem a little off. Trouble in paradise, barkeep?"

It's paradise when you're in it, his suddenly schmaltzy mind replied. Jesuuuus, what a wuss! Was this what Wyatt was like when he fell for Serena? He'd have to ask his cousin. Maybe.

"Chance is downstairs, and I need to let him upstairs. But that's not what's bothering me. We need to talk," he croaked out before he could lose his nerve.

"About?"

"You know how we said nothing but honesty from now on?"