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Ethan Cooper had warned men away from her at the bar. Had word of that warning gone through town? Was that the reason everyone stayed distant?
She went to the grocery sto
re the next afternoon, as she did every day, to buy dinner for that evening. She wandered through the store, chose a few vegetables, a ripe tomato, though she had no idea what she intended to fix. She checked out a slice of watermelon, passed it by. She picked up an apple, placed it in a clear plastic bag, and laid it in her shopping basket.
She felt disconnected as she moved through the store. She didn’t want steak or pork. She didn’t want another chicken breast. And she had promised herself years ago that she was never eating another TV dinner in her life.
So what did she want?
She wanted to dance. She wanted to be held. She wanted to be touched. And she didn’t want a stranger. She didn’t want a casual fuck. She wanted something more.
She wanted Ethan Cooper.
She stopped in front of the meat aisle for the second time, frowning down at the variety. They had everything. The problem was, the hunger tearing at her had nothing to do with food and everything to do with something much more instinctive.
“The catfish is fresh.”
She tensed at the sound of Cooper’s voice behind her.
She tucked in a few stray strands of hair that had escaped the twist at the back of her head and stared down at the chicken.
She picked up a single-wrapped chicken breast, laid it in her basket, and moved on. Okay, an apple, a small stalk of celery, a single green pepper. There was lettuce left in the fridge. God, she so didn’t want chicken.
“Are you going to forgive me, Sair?”
“My name is Sarah,” she told him quietly. “Or Miss Fox if you prefer.”
He breathed out heavily behind her. “No one else calls you Sair. It makes a part of you just mine.”
He was close. Close enough that she could feel the heat of him against her back. Close enough that her nipples beaded, her clit grew tight and hard, and her stomach tightened with need.
“You don’t want me, remember?”
Damn him. She didn’t want to want him. Did he think it was voluntary?
“You won’t be served sodas in the bar anymore. I promise.” His voice was a quiet, dark rasp. There was a hint of amusement. A hint of something darker, deeper. “And I didn’t say I didn’t want you.”
She lifted her shoulder in a shrug. “I won’t be back in your bar, Mr. Cooper.”
She moved through the dairy aisle. She could probably use another small carton of milk. Sometimes she drank it, sometimes she didn’t. She placed it in the basket before selecting a small wedge of cheese she liked with the crackers she kept in the cabinet.
“You’re not going to forgive me? Come on, Sair, we’re neighbors. You can’t hold a grudge against me.” There was a tickle of laughter against the top of her head, warming her soul.
Sarah stopped and turned and her nose was nearly buried in his chest. God, he was so close. She lifted her head, stared into his amber-flecked hazel eyes, and felt all the blood rush to her face. And the damp heat of her juices rushing to prepare her vagina, filling it, seeping out to her panties.
“Am I bothering you?” she finally asked him.
His brow arched. “Hell, yeah,” he murmured. “You’re making me hard as a rock. And I’m tired of knowing you’re mad at me.”
“Very well.” She turned away and resumed her journey to the checkout stand. “I won’t be angry anymore.”
She wasn’t angry to begin with. She was hurt. She had been trying desperately to make friends in this little town. Knowing Ethan Cooper had been warning everyone against her made her feel more isolated than ever before.
She had been isolated for most of her life. She didn’t want that any longer.
She heard him breathe out roughly behind her again and wanted to turn back to look at him so bad that she couldn’t stand it. She loved looking at him. She could spend hours doing it.
But she’d decided it was better not to stare. It just made her want.
