“Date. Meeting. Same thing,” Evie mumbled, still scrolling. “I think I’ll make Marry Me Chicken.”
“Whoa. Let’s not move too fast.”
Evie looked up, arching an eyebrow. “Says the woman who ran off with the grumpy sheriff and had outrageously filthy cabin sex during a blizzard.”
“Are we still talking about that?”And thinking about it.
“Um, yes.” Evie crossed her arms, looking entirely too smug. “I’m living vicariously through you. You put the ‘nailed it’ in the phrase ‘nailed it’. Who knew you had that in you?”
Heat soared in Lily’s cheeks at the reminder. “It was a temporary lapse in judgment,” she muttered.
“‘Ride my face, darlin’,” Evie growled in a terrible imitation of Rush’s deep voice. “I haven’t been able to look at Sheriff Sexy the same again.”
Lily tried to look disapproving, but she grinned despite herself. “It was pretty epic.”
She had zero regrets about the weekend or about telling her sister. They had a twin-level trust in which not much was off-limits. Besides, there was no hiding the beard burn on her neck and shoulders for days after. She’d practically glowed in the dark and had to wear turtlenecks for a week so her family didn’t notice.
She’d told everyone else Sheriff Callahan had dropped her off at the Pine Cone Motel so she could clear her head for a few days.
Not a lie, exactly.
She just left out the part about spending those days snowed in and losing her mind—and her panties—in a small, cozy cabin with the sexiest man she’d ever laid eyes on.
Evie, of course, had seen right through her the second she came back, but her mother and sisters believed that she’d spent the weekend doing yoga, journaling, and meditating. Lily felt a teensy bit guilty about that, but the alternative—telling the truth—wasn’t an option.
An involuntary shiver rolled through her at the memory of the silky scrap of mustache against her inner thighs.
She coughed to cover it and waved Evie toward the door. “Go. Make your chicken.”
Evie winked. “Fine, fine. But if you need a getaway, send me a chicken emoji, and I’ll come running.”
The door clicked shut behind her, and suddenly the studio felt too quiet. These were the moments when it was hardest not to think about him.
She’d done an impressive job of tucking that wild, transformative weekend away into a carefully locked box, but sometimes, when she wasn’t careful, memories slipped free.
They’d only spoken once since the cabin, and honestly, that was more than enough. Just that one time had left Lily flustered and scarlet cheeked for the rest of the day.
Alone in the quiet of her studio, Lily let out a long breath and reached for her coat. The floor-to-ceiling mirrors caught her reflection as she buttoned it up, and she paused.Weeks had passed, she told herself sternly.You need to stop thinking about a man who’d made it abundantly clear he was leaving.
She switched off the lights. Tonight was about moving forward. New Lily had a hot date. A fresh start.
She was definitely not hung up on a certain broody sheriff.
Maybe Bradley Benson had a mustache…
Chapter Nineteen
“Didyou guys know that the average kitchen sponge has more bacteria than a toilet seat? Like, twenty times more,” Rachel announced in her most cheerful voice, the one she reserved for all things grossly scientific or medical. “And most single men don’t replace theirs for—wait for it—six months.” She paused for dramatic effect. “Rush, please tell me you’re not using the same sponge from last summer?”
Rush leaned back in his creaky office chair, propping his phone against a stack of paperwork, and squinted at the screen. His sisters’ faces split the screen, staring back at him expectantly. They ambushed him with a FaceTime call at least once a week. He loved them more than life, but damn if they didn’t try his patience just as much.
At his feet, Riggs let out a loud, sleepy huff from his usual spot, curled in the corner of the office on his favorite blanket. He lifted his head to give Rush a cursory look, making sure all was well, before flopping down again with a grunt. Even in retirement, he never fully let his guard down. Riggs was loyal to the core, and he didn’t take to many people other than Rush,although he tolerated Rachel and Sarah. He was protective, stubborn, and a damn good judge of character.
“See? Even Riggs is judging you,” Rachel said, grinning.
He glanced at his watch. Friday night. He’d just wrapped up his shift when they’d cornered him.
Sarah wrinkled her nose, using the phone reflection to apply a thick coat of mascara. “Gross, Rach. Why do we need to know this?” She leaned in even closer until all Rush could see was her nose. Was that a?—
