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I gritted my teeth as I watched Sarah’s eyes widen, then all color drain from her face. She couldn’t see her mother because I blocked her view, but she knew who it was instantly.

“Mother.”

When she moved to the small bench by the door to remove her boots, she paused, her mouth falling open.

Turning, I got a look at what made my wife blanch. Beatrice was on the stairs, one manicured hand on the railing, still in my shirt…and only my shirt.

I ran my hand through my hair again as I glanced down at Sarah. I didn’t give a shit about anything else. She was looking to me, then Beatrice, then back. I noticed her gaze was on my chest, not my face. Looking down, I realized my shirt was mostly undone.

Shit. This looked bad.

Sarah dropped down onto the bench, leaned forward and began to undo the laces of her snow boots. Only a few hours ago, I’d had my hands on the tops of those sexy-as-hell thigh-high tights as I’d fucked her ass.

My dick stirred. Shit, this was not the time, but just thinking about Sarah made me hard. I smelled her shampoo from four feet away.

“I heard you were in town,” Sarah said to her mother, but didn’t look up from her task.

“Yes, we came in town last night. I was just…catching up with Kingston.”

“I didn’t realize you two were close.” Sarah dropped her boot on the plastic tray that was beneath the bench, used to catch the melting snow.

Beatrice came down the steps casually as if she owned the place. “The last time I was in his bed—”

I held up my hand. “Stop.”

“What?” Beatrice asked, putting her hand to her chest, looking as if she were the one being put out. “I only tell the truth. The last time I was here, I was in your bed. Just like this time.”

I hated that woman.

“What do you want, Mother, besides my husband?” Sarah asked, tugging off her other boot. She didn’t seem mad. She didn’t seem sad. Hell, she just seemed…calm.

Beatrice stilled, then laughed. Hard. “Oh, sweetie, I’m so proud of you. I told you to go after Kingston Barlow and you did. Good job. Think of the trips you can go on, the decorating you need to do to the house. So drab.”

I narrowed my eyes. They’d talked about me? About Sarah…what, seducing me so she could get her hands on my money? If Beatrice couldn’t do it herself, then Sarah could do it for her.

Was that why she’d been at Hawk’s Landing last weekend all dressed in that sexy-as-fuck outfit? To seduce me out of my property?

Another car pulled up. I went to the door, opened it again. This time it was a sheriff’s SUV. Archer Wade climbed out of the driver’s side, Wilder was the passenger. Thank fuck.

I stepped out onto the porch, left the door open, even in the cold weather. I didn’t dare turn my back for too long on those two.

“What’s up?” Wilder asked, frowning.

“You’re never going to believe this one.” I shook Archer’s hand when they made it to the porch. “I’m going to need your help.”

Spinning on my heel, I walked back inside, the others following.

“Wilder, Archer, this is Beatrice, Sarah’s mother.”

I heard Wilder swear under his breath, but Archer kept his calm. He had on his uniform and held his hat in his hands, clearly on the job. “Ma’am.”

I turned to Beatrice. “It’s time for you to leave.”

“But it’s a family reunion, my daughter and I need to celebrate her wedding,” she responded.

As if we were going to uncork the champagne with her in my flannel shirt.

“Archer, I’m pressing charges. This woman broke into my house and she’s refusing to leave.”

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