Peyton knew exactly how things were going to go down at Scott’s.

She threw her bag behind the seat of her truck and climbed in. He was going to try to be sweet and romantic and flirty and “couply”. Her only hope was to distract him. As a cop, Scott was not easily distracted. She knew that well. Which meant, she was going to have to blow his mind and keep him constantly sexed up if she was going to survive.

She had fit two weeks of clothing in her smallest duffel. Because it was all tiny clothing. And yes, she fully intended to greet him at the door in her nurse’s costume.

But she needed to swing by the grocery store on her way over to his place, and she didn’t want to risk giving anyone a heart attack by wearing it up and down the aisles at Conrad’s.

She was in and out of the store in ten minutes and on her way to Scott’s. At some point, she would cook for him, of course. But she didn’t really want him getting too comfortable in a “regular couple” routine right away.

This whole situation was about sex.

And okay, him getting better.

But she was not making him meatloaf.

She was at the stop sign in front of the diner when she happened to glance over. And noticed Reed Walker’s truck parked in front.

Peyton slammed on her brakes, scowling at the black and silver Ford. Looked like she had one more stop to make. She pulled into a spot across the street and then headed for Dottie’s. It was just before eight, so the place was packed. The group of older guys in the middle, with the three tables pulled together and a jillion coffee cups in front of them, would be there for the next couple of hours. And had already been there for a couple. There wasn’t a guy in the group under the age of sixty, and who hadn’t lived in Sapphire Falls for at least fifty of those years. They held court every weekday morning and every other Saturday. And they knew more gossip than the ladies at the Bang and Blow Salon.

But the rest of the place was full of farmers and the people who ran the businesses that sat around the square. Everything opened at eight-thirty in Sapphire Falls, after everyone filled up on pancakes, eggs, and coffee and strolled to their shop doors.

It was nice. Because if you needed to find someone between the hours of six a.m. and six p.m. in this town, the chance was great that they were somewhere within two hundred yards of the gazebo in the center of the square.

And sure enough, Reed Walker was sitting in a booth by the window with two of his friends.

Peyton stomped to the table. “Seriously?” She planted her hands on her hips and gave Reed a glare. “Your kid got a gun and you didn’t lock the fucking thing up?”

Reed didn’t glare back. He actually had the good sense to look sorry.

“It was locked up,” he said.

“He’s eleven, Reed!” Peyton said. “He got it unlocked, loaded and into the town square!”

“I know.” He nodded. “I know.”

“Scott could have died!” Peyton exclaimed. “Or Chase could have shot one of the other kids!”

“It was an accident.” But Reed looked miserable.

Good. “It was a preventable accident!”

“I know. We’ve had a long talk with him—”

“You talked to him?” Peyton demanded. “That’s it? You talked? How about grounding his ass? How about taking the gun away from him until he’s older and more responsible? How about watching your kid?”

“Hey!”

But it wasn’t Reed who was suddenly in her face. It was Travis Bennett. One of TJ’s brothers.

“Let’s take it down a notch, okay?” he said to Peyton, his voice calm but firm.

She glanced at Reed. “Anybody else gets hurt because you didn’t take care of your shit, and I’ll kick your ass.” Reed was several years older than her and probably outweighed her by a hundred pounds, but she had a lot of pent-up rage. That was dangerous. He should watch it.

“Peyton,” Travis said. “Let’s go outside.”

“You’re taking me outside?” she asked with a laugh. “For yelling at a guy whose kid almost killed my—Scott.” Dammit. That wasn’t a great slip. In the middle of Dottie’s at one of the busiest times of day? She needed to be careful.

“But Scott’s okay and it was an accident and he feels terrible about it,” Travis said.

“He should feel terrible about it. Guns aren’t toys!” She glared at Reed. “You’ve been around guns all your life. How can you not be more careful?”

With that, Travis turned her and started nudging her toward the door.

“But he—”

“You know, if you don’t want the whole town to know how you really feel about Scott, you might want to not go stomping around and fighting everyone on his behalf,” Travis said by her ear.

She deflated a bit with that. She’d done the same in Baltimore. Seth had made a crack about the tough guys being cops in Baltimore and she’d gotten right up in his face and defended Scott and the important things he did in Sapphire Falls.

Damn.

She let Travis steer her out onto the sidewalk in front of Dottie’s. He let go of her and she turned to face him. She crossed her arms. “I’m right.” She felt the need to point that out.

“You are,” Travis said with a nod. “And Reed knows it. Calling him out in public isn’t going to fix anything though.”

She took a deep breath and blew it out. “Yeah, okay. I just…”

“Couldn’t help it,” Travis supplied.

She nodded.

“I know how that goes.”

“You do?”

“Sure. I’d take anyone on over anything for my wife or one of my girls.”

Travis was madly in love with his wife Lauren and his two daughters. Everyone in town thought it was hilarious that Travis, one of Sapphire Falls’ best-known flirts, was raising girls. Peyton thought it was great. Men who were awesome dads were her personal heroes. Every little girl deserved a dad who would kick ass for her.

But that didn’t explain her reaction to this whole thing with Scott. “It’s not love,” she said. “I would have felt this way no matter who Chase had shot. An eleven-year-old shouldn’t be around guns.”

Travis nodded. “You might have felt the same way. And knowing you, if you ran into him somewhere, you would have said something. But you wouldn’t have seen his truck and come stomping in to confront him in front of half the town.”

Peyton opened her mouth to say she most definitely would have…but she wouldn’t have. Probably.

Just then, Reed came through Dottie’s door.

“I want to tell you that Chase was scared to death about what happened,” Reed started before anyone else could say a thing. “He doesn’t even want to learn to shoot now. But MacKenzie convinced him to try it out. He’s not even going to look at a gun until we get out there for lessons.”

Peyton thought about the little boy, and the fact that seeing a grown man bleeding from a gunshot right in front of him would have been scary—and way worse, knowing he’d caused it.

The rest of her temper dissipated. “I’m sorry, Reed. I might have overreacted a little.”

Reed gave her a small smile. “It’s okay. I would have done the same thing if something like that happened to someone I love.”

Again, she opened her mouth to protest, but she caught Travis’s eye over Reed’s shoulder. He gave her a small grin with one eyebrow up, and she realized that protesting she wasn’t in love with Scott might make it even more obvious that she was. Or, at least, that she wanted to be.

Yeah, that was it. She might want to be in love with him. A little. Maybe. If things were different. If she was different. But she was also a hothead who often spoke before she thought things out, and who really did think that an eleven-year-old should never have access to a gun he didn’t know how to use.

“Well, tell Chase that Scott’s going to be fine,” Peyton said to Reed. “In fact, maybe in a few days, Chase could come over and do a little yard work or something and see for himself.”

Reed brightened at that. “That would be great. It would make him feel like he was doing something to help Scott out. Wonderful. I’ll give Scott a call.”

“Oh, call me. I’ll be staying over there, helping Scott for a while. I can let you know when would be a good time to visit.”

Too late—way too late—she realized what she’d said. And given away.

Both men’s eyes widened, but, to their credit, neither of them said anything directly about that.

“Okay, I’ll do that.” Reed pulled his phone out and Peyton inputted her number.

“See you later,” she told him as he turned to go back into the diner.

“Let us know if you need anything,” Travis said. “Casseroles or help around your—Scott’s—house or anything.”

Peyton could tell he was fishing a little, and gauging her reaction. And what was with the clear assumption that she couldn’t cook or manage the house? She’d managed to get almost to twenty-four years old without dying, and Lord knew it wasn’t because her mom and dad were super doting. “Lauren doesn’t cook,” Peyton pointed out.

Travis grinned. “No, but my mom does.”

That was actually an understatement. Kathy Bennett was one of the best cooks in the county—if not the state.

“Well, in that case…” Peyton could absolutely fake not being able to cook if it meant Kathy might bring something over to Scott.

Travis laughed. “I’ll stop over in a couple of days. Let you guys get…settled.”

Yeah, “settled” sounded very much like an innuendo right there. Peyton shook her head. “I’m not telling you anything.”

“You’re going to make me go back into Dottie’s with no juicy gossip for us all to speculate about?” Travis asked. “Come on.”

She pretended to consider that. Then she said, “Okay, I heard a rumor that Scott’s home health aide has a huge crush on him.”

With that, she headed across the street to her truck, grateful that Scott wouldn’t be getting out and about for a while. Hopefully the gossip about her confronting Reed would have died down by the time he was.

Of course, there was also the possibility that the tale would have grown bigger by then.

* * *

Scott steeled himself as he mounted his front steps with one crutch under his right arm. And it wasn’t even about the nursing costume he was sure Peyton was wearing. It was just the fact that she was there. In his house. Waiting for him to come home.

Kyle got the door for him. Derek carried the other crutch that the therapist at the hospital had said he wouldn’t probably need to use, and the bag of wound-care supplies he’d need.

“Hey, honey, we’re home!” Kyle called into the house.

“Be right there!” was Peyton’s reply from what sounded like his bedroom.

Scott squeezed the handrest on the crutch. Damn, this was so not how he’d envisioned having Peyton in his bedroom for the first time.

The three men were all in the front door when Peyton came around the corner.

And even knowing she’d be wearing it, and remembering what it looked like from Halloween, Scott was not prepared for the sight of her in the tiny, tight nurse’s costume. In his living room. Welcoming him home.

It wasn’t just the white fishnet stockings and bright red fuck-me heels that matched the red cross on the right breast of the top. It was the smile she wore. She looked like she was up to something. She also looked happy to see him.

But damn, her short skirts and high heels had a way of making her legs look even longer and, in spite of himself, he couldn’t keep from thinking about how they’d feel wrapped around his waist every. Damned. Time.

No one could really blame him for what had happened on St. Patrick’s Day. Her little leprechaun costume had been, essentially, just a green version of this. And he was only human.

Derek coughed. “I might be coming down with something and need some nursing too.”

Scott didn’t even look away from Peyton as he told his friend, “Get out. Now.”

Chuckling, Derek tossed the bag of supplies to Peyton.

Kyle gave her a once-over. Again. And said, “Be gentle with our boy here. He’s in a weakened state, remember.”

Then they both, thankfully, got lost.

For now. Scott knew he hadn’t seen or heard the last of them. Which, normally, he was grateful for. Not so much right now. He needed lots of alone time with Nurse Sassy Pants.

“How are you feeling?” she asked.

“Feverish.”

She grinned. “Want a sponge bath?”

“I want you to put more clothes on.” He knew he sounded grumpy. And that wasn’t exactly how he was feeling. Though cheerful was definitely not right either. He was—frustrated.

Frustrated that she was here, finally, and none of this was the way he wanted it to be. Frustrated that her being here, in her mind, needed to include a sexy nurse’s costume. Frustrated that he wanted to stalk over to her, sweep her up into his arms and take her into his bedroom and do all of the things that costume made him think about doing. And that he couldn’t.

She tipped her head, studying him. They were standing about twenty feet apart, but Scott had a feeling she was reading all of those thoughts on his face.

“Sit down before you fall over,” she finally said, moving toward him.

He assumed that she meant to help him to the couch, but he couldn’t handle having her in reach. “I’ve got it.” He moved swiftly toward the sofa, ignoring the twinge in his leg that said he’d gone too fast.

Of course, once he was down with his leg on the coffee table and the crutch propped next to him, it was a lot harder to move fast. Which was how he found himself with Peyton sitting right next to him, looking like a goddess and smelling like everything he wanted all rolled into one delicious, lick-able package.

He closed his eyes and leaned his head back on the cushion behind him. “Fuck.”

He felt her shift on the cushion beside him.

“So, we pretty much laid out how this was going to go at the hospital, right?” she asked.

“What do you mean?” Keeping his eyes closed was kind of working. He couldn’t see all that gorgeous skin and those tempting curves. But he could feel her. And smell her. And his whole body hardened anyway. He heard her drop her shoes one by one onto the floor and imagined her with her legs curled under her, sitting sideways facing him. That meant her bare legs with those stockings were right there…

He wasn’t going to survive two weeks.

Not without throwing her down and taking her over and over and—

“You want to play house, right? Take this chance to show me how wonderful a relationship could be. Tempt me to make it real and long-term.”

He rolled his head and opened his eyes. Yeah, she’d caught on to that at the hospital all right. It had seemed like a great plan. He wanted to date her. Hell, he wanted to live with her. So why not force her into it?

He gave a little laugh at that thought. Very romantic. “Yeah, okay, I thought this would give you a taste of what you’re missing.”

She nodded. “And you figured out that I also intend to use these two weeks to seduce you, right?”

He took a deep breath. Yeah, of course she did. Hell, she used every minute they were together to try to do that. “And how would that be different than every other time we’re within ten feet of one another?”

She smiled. “Oh, you’ll see how it’s different.”

Yeah, he was a dead man. He was either going to die of lack of blood to his brain, or because he took Peyton to bed and couldn’t move for food or water afterward.

“So this is a game of chicken—we both bring it on and see who gets their way?” he asked.

She smiled. “Pretty much. I mean, if you’re not smart enough to avoid playing chicken or truth-or-date with me, then you deserve the consequences.”

Well, she had a point.

“Think you’re a tough girl, huh?” She was. On the surface. He was sure that there had never been a dare Peyton hadn’t taken with a big old loud “hell yeah”. But she wasn’t totally tough. There were moments when he caught glimpses of what he could have sworn was wistfulness—like she wanted so much more than she was letting herself want. “You think you can be with me for two weeks and then want things to go back to how they were?”

She wet her lips and shrugged. “I think that the sex is going to be so good that you won’t be able to go back to how things were.”

He focused on her mouth. Her sassy, sexy mouth that he wanted to see smiling, wanted to hear saying things like “you make me so happy”, and that he wanted to feel doing…

“For two weeks, I’m going to sell the relationship idea, you’re going to sell the sex idea, and we’re going to see who caves first?” he asked.

She nodded her head slowly, her long black hair falling forward and brushing against the upper curve of her breasts, half of which were peeking out of the deep V in the front of the dress. “May the best man, or woman, win.”

He studied her. Her cheeks were a little pink, her pupils were wide. She was excited.

Hell, he was too.

He knew he had no prayer of resisting a Peyton seduction for two weeks. But he thought maybe she didn’t have a chance of resisting the things he wanted either. Not with a constant, steady application of things like simple fun and sweetness. Normalcy. Comfort. Typical couple stuff. Typical outside of the bedroom couple stuff. He knew that she worried about him being overprotective and demanding of her time and attention. So, this was the perfect chance to show her that they could both have their own space, their own interests, time apart—and yet still be crazy about each other.

No, he thought a second later—crazy was not a good word to use.

Her mother’s mental illness was no joking matter. He didn’t make light of it, and knew when Peyton did, it was a defense mechanism. But still, he needed to not do anything that would call to mind her mom and dad.

Sweet and fun and comfortable and normal, he reminded himself. That’s what he was concentrating on. Even as he was all too aware of the perfect pair of breasts only a few inches below his mouth.

God, he was going to be so easy for her.

“Okay, but you have to actually try,” he said. “Every time you do something sexy, I do something normal and you have to go with it.”

She laughed. “Normal?”

“Sweet, romantic, regular couple stuff,” Scott said firmly.

“Regular couples don’t do sexy?” Peyton asked. “No wonder I’ve never wanted to be one.”

“You know what I mean.”

For a moment, he thought she was going to tease him further, but instead, she nodded. “Okay, fine. But if you do something regular, then I get to do something sexy,” she said. “It’s only fair we keep this balanced and get an equal chance to make our case.”

This was hardly going to be balanced or equal. It wasn’t as if she needed to talk him into wanting the sexy stuff. But he did need a chance to make his case for more, and this was the best shot he had. “Fine.”

She straightened one leg, stretching the limb across his uninjured thigh. “So should we lay down some definitions and rules?” she asked.

“Definitions and rules?” he repeated, trying to ignore the smooth, toned thigh on his lap and the silky stocking covering that thigh. “That hardly sounds like you.”

“Yeah, well, neither does playing nursemaid or letting a guy romance me on purpose, but here I am.”

Damn, he liked that. He liked her doing new things with him—for him. He liked getting her outside of her comfort zone. He loved the idea of romancing her…and her having to take it. Again, that didn’t sound all that romantic and sweet, he knew, but he couldn’t help it.

Even as his hand settled on her thigh, Scott knew he was making a mistake. “Give me a for instance,” he told her.

She thought about it for a second, and Scott ran his palm over a few inches of the silky stocking under his hand. Just a few inches. Just for a second.

“Okay, if you send me a sweet text that says ‘thinking of you’ or something, then I get to send you a text back. That’s not sweet.”

Scott had about a million things he could text that would fit that bill. And, yeah, a few dirty texts in return would be only fair, he supposed. He also supposed he was full of shit when he said that he didn’t want that stuff. He did. He just wanted it too. Along with the rest.

“Okay. But if you greet me at the door in a skimpy costume that makes me instantly hard, then you have to sit down at the table with me for dinner and have an actual conversation,” he told her, running his hand over the stocking again. Just once. Or twice.

She nodded seriously, as if they were negotiating a multi-million-dollar business merger. “Right. The meatloaf thing. Fine. Then if you want to cuddle on the couch,” she said, reaching up and running her fingers up the back of his neck and into his hair, “I get to touch you the entire time.”

No woman’s hands had ever felt as good on him. He simply couldn’t find it within himself, even knowing that he was staring at a huge Peyton victory by the end of their two weeks, to say no to that. “Okay. But if I call you during the day, you can’t turn it into phone sex.”

There was a tiny quiver at the corner of her mouth, indicating that maybe she was fighting a smile. “Okay, but if I call you during the day for phone sex, you can’t turn it into a real conversation.”

God, he liked her. He wasn’t sure they’d ever teased quite like this before. And even if they were technically in a battle of wills, he couldn’t help but think they were playing for the same final outcome. More time together. More to what was between them. Just more.

And he was going to be easy for her. So very fucking easy.

But he didn’t have to admit it. He could put up a small fight. At least initially.

“Fine. And no worries about couch cuddling tonight,” he said. “Think I’ll head to Kyle’s to watch the game,” he said.

She lifted both brows. “Okay.”

She was surprised. She hid it quickly, but he saw it. He fought a grin. That would also be key here—keep her on her toes and off-kilter.

“Then I can run home and get some things done then,” she said.

“Sounds good.” He paused. Then, knowing he probably shouldn’t, said, “But you’ll come back over later?”

She smiled. “I’ll be cuddled up right next to you all night.”

Right. Like he’d forgotten for one second that she was going to be sleeping in his bed. He wouldn’t last one night. As it was, he was about five seconds away from tipping her back, covering her with his body, and reaching under that skirt.

Before he could reach for anything, though, she swung her leg off of his lap and unfolded from the couch. “So how about some lunch?” she asked.

“Um…” Scott couldn’t help but watch her move. “Isn’t that kind of a normal couple thing to do?” he asked, more than a little distracted by all of that skin.

“Well, I figure it will balance this out,” she said.

“Balance what—” But he froze as she bent over to pick up her shoes.

Because of course he’d been looking at her ass. He looked at her ass every chance he got. And it was right there. And that skirt was so nice and short. Okay, he’d been hoping for a glimpse of cherry-red panties. Or really any color panties.

But he didn’t see panties. Because she wasn’t wearing any.

What he did see, however, was a whole lot of pink. That was not satin or cotton or silk.

“Jesus, Peyton,” he growled.

She straightened and looked back at him over her shoulder. “You okay?”

He looked up to meet her eyes. “You’re not going to even pretend to play fair, are you?”

“What’s not fair about this?” she asked, turning to face him.

“Really? You walking around here and bending over without underwear on is fair?” he asked, his heart still hammering.

She shrugged, totally unconcerned. “No underwear is sexy. And now I’m going to make you lunch. That’s normal. Something normal for each something sexy. That’s fair.”

Scott scrubbed a hand over his face. What had he gotten himself into?

After a moment, she gave a light laugh. “I think what you’re missing here is that you’re kind of full of shit, and I know it.”

Scott dropped his hand and focused on her. “What?”

She nodded. “There is such a thing as being with someone for sex only, but you’re saying that you want a normal relationship. Well, that’s fine, but you’re ignoring the fact that a normal relationship includes sex,” she told him.

Scott frowned. “I’m not ignoring that. I want to add the other stuff in.”

She shrugged. “Okay. But even if we’re a ‘regular couple’,” she said, using her fingers to make the air quotes, “and having lunch together and phone conversations that don’t include the words ‘wrap your hand around your cock and imagine it’s my mouth’, and even if we go to the movies, and get each other silly gifts just because, I would still absolutely dress up in costumes and role-play nurse and patient—or any other damn thing you wanted. I would absolutely walk around this house with no panties on and bend over in front of you with the hopes that you’ll pull me down on your lap and push up my skirt and make me come so loud you hope that your windows are shut. And there would absolutely be a time when the windows aren’t shut and your neighbors get to hear just how fucking awesome our sex life is.”

She put a hand on her hip. “So yeah, I’ll make you a freaking meatloaf and watch TV with you and spoon with you all night. But if you think that this is going to be all how-was-your-day and let’s-have-everyone-over-for-a-barbecue-this-weekend and pancakes in bed without me ever pouring maple syrup on your cock and sucking it clean and getting the sheets all sticky, then you’re way off.”

Scott had never been so turned on in his life.

Sure, the maple syrup blowjob thing helped, but that combination she’d just described? Neither of them would get over that.

“Fine,” he finally said. “When you bring my lunch in, you bend over all you want.”

Her eyes flashed for a moment, but then she took a deep breath. “I hope this goes without saying, but the only reason I’m making you lunch is because you were shot. That won’t be a typical thing either. You’re a big boy.”

Yeah, he was. He nodded. “Noted.”

And he definitely watched her ass as she headed for the kitchen.

The next two weeks were looking better and better. In spite of the hole in his leg.