The first time had been wild and mind-blowingly hot, the next slower and more relaxed, and finally, the last time, Rush had reached for her in the early hours of the morning and sunk into her from behind, all sleepy and warm. They had rocked lazily like that, with her still slick and hot from him. She’d come more times in one night than she had in the last six months.
She wanted to high-five herself. She’d totally had sex with Sheriff Sexy. Wait until Evie found out. Her sister would be so proud.
“Friends of yours?” she asked lightly, wondering how he managed to look so good while she was certain her hair had crossed into Medusa territory. She offered him a smile, but when his eyes met hers, all traces of the man she had known so very intimately the night before were gone.
Rush’s eyes were clear and impersonal, like last night hadn’t left a single mark on him, when she could clearly see the scratches on his back from where she sat.
She let that sink in for a split second. She was the kind of woman who left scratches on a man’s back after a night of crazy, no-holds-barred sex? Shocking.
But also… a little thrilling.
New Lily was definitely the kind of woman who did things like that.
Clearly, Rush was back in Sheriff Callahan mode, and she was going to put her game face on too. She straightened her shoulders and ignored the tiny bit of disappointment that snuck its way into her new, strong, confident self.
“Here, put this on.” Rush tossed her something soft. His flannel and sweatpants. The same ones he’d watched her strip off the night before.
Another loud bang rattled the door. “Rush! You alive in there?” A deep, teasing voice called through the wood, followed by a round of laughter. “Wake the fuck up!”
Rush was already across the room, yanking on his sweatshirt, scanning the room with a scowl on his face. With one hand on the door, he shot Lily a glance. “You decent?”
Okay, he was maybe a little better at being casual than she was. She was new to this.
She tried to catch his eye to offer a smile, but he turned away before she could, pulling the door open in one swift motion. A blast of icy air swept in, along with three broad-shouldered men who looked half-frozen. They were all dressed in some variation of the same uniform—ski parkas, snow pants, hats, gloves—coated in a dusting of snow.
One of them stepped forward and did that manly back-clap thing that men did to Rush’s back. “Good to see your face, Callahan. We found your truck half-buried down the mountain.Thought the snow took you out.” He flashed an easy grin at Rush, who returned it.
So he did remember how to smile.
Lily tilted her head. She didn’t know much about Rush outside of the cabin, but from what she’d seen of him around town, he wasn’t big on smiling. Anytime she’d run into him, he’d had the same stoic, professional expression on his face, yet here he was, standing relaxed and looking at ease. Riggs was practically vibrating with excitement, wagging his tail at the men’s feet like they were long-lost friends.
Rush ran a hand through his hair and cleared his throat. “Figured one of you would find us when the snow melted.”
At the word “us,” three pairs of eyes swung toward the bed.
Lily felt the blood rush to her cheeks. She already knew how she looked. Her swollen lips and tangled hair. The pink skin where Rush’s beard marked her last night.
One bed. One very obvious conclusion.
Oh well. No one could really know what had happened. She could brazen this out, just as she would when she got back home and faced her family. She grinned charmingly and channeled her inner goddess. No big deal. Nothing to see here. Just two mature adults who shared a tiny cabin platonically and had absolutely not seen each other naked.
A beat of silence stretched around them until one of the men, the youngest of the three, stepped forward then stopped abruptly and lifted his eyes. “What the hell is that?”
He reached up and plucked something from the deer head mounted above the door.
Oh hell.
Lily’s very risqué, very lacy merry widow dangled from his fingers. The one she’d thrown over the creepy deer’s glassy eyes last night.
He held it up, frowning in confusion. Lily watched with asense of inevitability as the men realized what it was. The room went awkwardly silent.
So much for platonic…
Rush crossed his arms, his expression unreadable. “Got something to say, Ian?”
Ian, dark-haired and wearing a cocky-as-hell grin, obviously enjoying himself, twirled the lace between his fingers and let out a low whistle. “Not a damn thing,” Ian replied, smirking. His blue eyes sparkled with mischief as he glanced at Lily, and she couldn’t help but smile back.
Rush stepped forward, that no-nonsense, bossy sheriff look on his face, and plucked the lacy scrap out of Ian’s hand, folded it, and slipped it into his back pocket.
