Nora

“I think I’ve learned more in the last half hour than I’ve learned in my entire life.” Machlan leans against the cooler, his large, muscled arms crossed over his chest.

“Go with us tonight and I’ll teach you some more.” My friend Emily leans forward, her boobs resting on the bar. She flashes my boss, and one of my best friends, the sexiest smile she can muster.

“He’s not the lamb he’s pretending to be,” I warn. “From the stories I hear, he could teach even you a thing or two, Em.”

She laughs, her eyes shining. “That’s what I’m counting on.”

Holding Machlan’s gaze, she licks her lips with the deliberateness of a seasoned vet. My group of friends burst into laughter. Me? I just shake my head. This is simply a variation of every woman’s reaction to Machlan Gibson.

I get it. I do. He checks off every box on the “what makes a man hot” list. Even though he’s practically a brother to me at this point, I can still see it. I don’t want it, or want to see it, but I see it.

“How many panties were thrown behind the bar tonight?” I ask, demonstrating my point. “I found a pink one and a red one.”

“Women really do that?” Emily asks. “I thought that was just something from movies.”

“Oh, they do that.” I laugh, wiping down the bar. “Sometimes worse. And the notes women leave him on the bulletin board by the door are downright disgusting.”

Machlan shrugs. “I can’t help it. Being this good-looking is a liability.”

“Shut up.” The laugh I’m trying to hold back surfaces, causing my friends to giggle again. “And you two aren’t helping,” I say, pointing at them.

“What can I say?” Emily asks. “Hot bartenders are my thing. My guilty pleasure.”

“I thought penises were your guilty pleasure.” Lauren laughs.

Emily shrugs. “I do like a good penis. I’ll admit that.”

“Who doesn’t?” I sigh, thinking of my last romp with a well-endowed man.

It’s been too long for me. It’s not that I’m promiscuous, exactly. I’m choosy about who I’m with and I don’t sleep around a lot. I have a few men, a handful, maybe that I can count on for a good time on a rainy Saturday night. But lately they’ve all been lackluster … all except the one I wish was so I could quit thinking about him.

“Um, I don’t like a good penis.” Machlan shoves off the cooler, sticking his hands in his pockets. He looks at me, lifting a brow.

I know what he’s doing before he does it because he does it to me all the time. He puts me on the spot. Tests me—for what, I don’t know. It’s like he’s toying with me to see if he can get me to crack. It could be because I don’t react to him like every other breathing female does. Whatever it is, I hold my breath and prepare to not, in fact, crack.

“So, Nora,” he says, leaning against the bar. “What’s your guilty pleasure?”

“Probably something lame compared to yours.” I lean forward too, mocking his stance. He’s on one end of the bar, me on the other, with my friends in the middle. “Why don’t you share yours with the class?”

“That’s what I was thinking.” Emily grins.

Machlan looks at her with a wide, cheesy smile before turning his attention to Lauren. “You’re up. What’s your guilty pleasure?”

“Well,” my soft-spoken friend says, “I’m married with a baby, so can I say showering alone?”

“No one should ever shower alone,” Machlan teases.

“Trust me. When you have kids, things like showering and peeing with the door closed is the guiltiest of pleasures,” Lauren sighs.

“That’s so, so sad,” I lament. “And also, why I’m not sure I ever want kids. I don’t want to give up … me.”

Lauren’s eyes sparkle, partially from the lemon drop martini she downed like a camel and partially from thoughts of her baby girl. “It’s so worth it. Every hour of no sleep. Every night with screams of colic. Every poop bomb that goes up their back—”

“No kids.” Machlan laughs. “I’m getting on that train.”

“Speaking of pulling trains …” Emily says, her eyes pinned on the back of the room.

Peck strolls in, an Illinois Legends cap stuck backwards on his head. Blond, unruly locks peek out from under as he makes his way toward us.

Machlan takes all but three seconds to stand upright. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothin’,” Peck says, stopping at the head of the bar.

“And who are you?” Emily says, unconcerned with the look being exchanged between Machlan and Peck. “You look like a great time, baby.”

“Em, hush a second,” I say, waving her off. My heartbeat strums a little too quick, causing my lips to part to catch more air. With this guy, anything is possible. His heart is pure gold, but his actions aren’t always logical. “What did you do, Peck?”

“I didn’t do anything.” He squishes his face together. “Not really. Just if anyone asks, I’ve been here since eleven.”

“Seriously,” I tell him. “Is this better or worse than the time you got thrown out of the skating rink?”

“I was fifteen,” Peck deadpans. “But this is better. Or worse.” He side-eyes Machlan. “Bob Shaw’s tractor might be sitting in the middle of the road out by the water tower.”

My head falls back as Machlan groans.

“I didn’t do anything but borrow it,” Peck insists. “I was going to bring it back. I just kind of ran it out of gas.”

“Did Bob give you the keys? Say, ‘here, Peck. Borrow my tractor at midnight’?”

When Peck doesn’t respond, Machlan punches him in the arm.

“Um, Nora?” Lauren asks. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything is great,” Peck says, brushing off Machlan. “What were we talking about?”

“Guilty pleasures,” Emily chimes in. “Have one?”

Peck’s boyish grin gets a sigh from Lauren. As dark and outright sexy as Machlan is, his cousin is the opposite. Tall, thin, with baby blue eyes, Peck’s attractiveness stems from his charm. He’s kind and sweet and a little goofy—totally Lauren’s speed if she weren’t married.

As I look at Emily, it might be her speed too.

“Back off, Em. You’d kill him.” I laugh.

Peck scoffs, his lips pressed together to bite back a grin. “You underestimate me, Nora.”

“Oh, do I?”

“You most certainly do.” He folds his hands in front of him, leaning on the bar. His Nirvana t-shirt is a little washed out and smells like the outdoors as he moves. “My guilty pleasure, huh? I like s’mores.”

“S’mores?” Emily grins. “I can get with that.”

“I’m starting to think you can get with whatever comes through the door,” Machlan jabs.

“You judging?” she asks.

Machlan shakes his head, turning his attention to me. “Where do you find these girls?”

“She actually found me in the bathroom of Court Pub over in Lancaster,” Emily groans. “Long story. Bad night.”

“Great story. Entertaining night,” I offer. “I guess we see it a little differently.”

“I didn’t look good with no pants to put on. It doesn’t matter how you look at it.” Emily gives me a pointed look then promptly affixes her attention on Machlan. “I actually look great with no pants, if you were wondering. Just not that particular moment in time. I can prove it.”

Machlan laughs, his cheeks turning a soft shade of pink. “I gotta get out of here, Nora. Can you finish up?”

“Sure. I just have to check the register and I think it’s good to go. I can lock up …”

My voice trails as a sound raps on the door. Machlan and I glance at each other. This is why he doesn’t let me stay alone at night, afraid someone will pop in late and try to rob me. It’s never happened and I can’t see it happening in Linton, but it’s a hard and fast rule of my boss. Either he stays or Peck stays, sometimes even his friend Cross comes by to walk me to my car. It’s sweet, predictable Gibson boy behavior.

“Stay put,” Machlan says, rounding the corner.

We sit quietly as Machlan peeks out of the blinds next to the door. He pulls away, his eyes lit up. “It’s Kip,” he whispers.

“Ah,” I moan as Peck’s eyes grow wide.

“Shit,” he says. “Remember: eleven o’clock. I was here from eleven until about … half hour ago.”

“Hang on, Kip,” Machlan says, hiding his laugh. “Door is stuck.”

The knock continues along with muffled threats from the other side. Machlan, ignoring everything Kip is telling him, waves a hand at Peck to follow him. “Let’s go.”

“Isn’t that aiding and abetting?” Lauren asks.

“Yup. And it’s gonna be so much fun.” Machlan cackles. “Nora, cover for us.”

My friends look at me in amazement as I shake my head, watching the two boys leave through the back. My attention is turned back to the door when Kip pounds on it again.

“Girls,” I say, looking at Lauren and Emily, “you’re about to meet my guilty pleasure.”

The door lock unfastens easily, the cool night air blowing in. Standing in the doorway in his brown uniform smelling of spice. He gazes down at me with his deep, dark brown eyes and lifts a brow.

“What can I do for you, Officer?” I ask, leaning against the doorframe.

My friends giggle from behind me, but Kip doesn’t seem to notice. His gaze is leaving a trail of flames over my face, down my chest, across my stomach that’s clenched at the site of him, and rolls over the apex of my things.

“Now or later?” he asks.

“Do I get a choice?”

The corner of his lip upturns, his gaze settling over my shoulder. “Business first, darlin’. Is Peck here?”

“Nope.”

His eyes dart back to mine. “I know he’s here because his truck is out back.”

“Well, he was but left about thirty minutes ago.” I shrug.

“Did he leave with Machlan?”

“I have no idea.” I smirk.

“Nora!” Lauren hisses. “You can’t lie to an officer.”

Kip grins, the gesture soaking my panties. He works his chiseled jaw back and forth, his eyes narrowing. “She’s right. You can’t.”

“I think you can’t do lots of things with a police officer that I’ve done. Seems very tit for tat, doesn’t it, Kip?”

He takes a step toward me but stops when Emily speaks.

“Do you guys need some alone time?”

My stomach twists into a tight knot as Kip licks his lips.

“Yes, ladies. If you don’t mind. I need to speak to Nora in private,” he says, his eyes never leaving mine. “I believe she has information she’s withholding.”

“I bet you do,” Emily teases.

The sound of them gathering their things and their heels clicking against the floor doesn’t register. All I can hear is the slight uptake of breath from the beautiful man in front of me. All I can feel are his eyes slowly undressing me in the doorway. All I can taste is the sweetness of his lips that haven’t touched mine. Yet. But they will. They always do.

Thank God.