Friday night, Charlie arrived back in Monroe, exhausted but filled with the oddest notion of truly coming home. Matthew was there on the platform, just like he said he’d be, reaching out to take her suitcase, big and solid and warm in all that cold weather. She was so pleased she hardly noticed anything beyond the familiar eyes looking over her fondly.

He’d driven her car back from Chicago, happy to bring it home so she might make her trip. Charlie had handed over her keys with a warning the engine was tricky, the car required a firm hand with its sticky clutch and rattling engine. Matthew had insisted.

Seeing him open the passenger door so she might climb in, Charlie apologized. “Probably gave you a heap of trouble just trying to get this clunker home.”

Matthew slid into the driver’s seat and started the car. “I’ve been working on it while you were gone, runs smooth now.”

Blushing when the engine purred, she gave him a grateful smile, and cuddled up next to him.

Darting a proud glance from the corner of his eye, Matthew pressed the gas and began the journey, cautious of the falling snow. “How was your mother?”

Charlie gave a comfortable hum. “We talked a little, that’s rare. So all in all, I would say she’s doing well.”

The following silence was relaxed, and the next time Matthew looked down he found Charlotte fast asleep. Wondering how far she’d traveled, if she’d rushed to get the late train, he put an arm around her and tried to make her nap more comfortable.

When they pulled behind Devil’s Hollow, Matthew pressed a kiss to her hair, waking her gently. Even parked at the back, she could hear the commotion inside, the roadhouse full of locals looking to socialize before the weather kept them home.

It didn’t bother her in the slightest.

Carrying her suitcase through the back door, Matthew led the way, Charlie shuffling behind. It wasn’t until he got to the second floor landing that he paused. “I never shared this room.” He cleared his throat before ducking into the bedroom. The suitcases were laid on his bed. “I wanted you to know that. I always slept in the hall... when Alice had no place to go.”

Charlie stood at his door, unsure what to say. No man who had touched her like he had touched her could claim to have always slept in the hall... but for some reason she believed him. Wherever they’d fucked was none of her business. “If you say so.”

“I want to sleep in this room now, with you.”

She couldn’t help but crack a joke in her nervousness. “That cost extra?”

Coming forward, he put his nose to her hair, strong arms slipping around to pull her in until Charlie stifled a pained grunt against his chest.

Stiffening with an apologetic, “Sorry,” Charlie pushed away.

She purposefully did not answer the question in his eyes. Instead she opened the nearest suitcase, and began to assemble the pieces of her rifle hidden inside.

Matthew saw a flash of familiar green peeking out from under her packed clothes. “Forgive me for asking, Charlotte, but why do you got a suitcase full of money?”

“I robbed a bank,” she answered deadpan, leaning the rifle against the wall.

When he didn’t laugh, she looked over her shoulder. “I’m kidding, Matthew. I picked up a little cash on the way back to Monroe.”

A little cash his eye. That had to be at least a grand, maybe two. “Where you get money like that?”

Confused, she cocked her head to the side. “I’m a bounty hunter. It’s a lucrative profession if you’re good at it. And I am,” her eyes went proudly to her cash, “very good.”

He reached out a hand to touch the place that had caused her to hiss when he held her, understanding why she’d brushed him off. She didn’t flinch, but he could see the discomfort in her eyes when he explored the line of her flank. “How bad he hurt you?”

“Not bad,” she tried to soothe, realizing he was scowling something fierce. “In the city where I keep my mama, I saw a familiar face with a hefty bounty. After I visited her, I picked him up, and rushed him to the feds so I could be back here with you. Easy as pie.”

“How bad, Charlotte?” Those full lips pressed in a line, her little story doing nothing to ease his feelings on the matter.

“A few cheap shots to the ribs… nothing broken.” She put her hand over his. “See, I’m fine… just tired is all.”

“You don’t need me to tell you what you did was dangerous.” He pulled a little on the tips of her hair, reminding her of the fact she looked feminine now. “Let the police handle it.”

“And lose a reward?” Scoffing, she took his hand, watching his eyes storm. “Keep in mind, Matthew, if ordinary lawmen could take on a man like that, then bounty hunters wouldn’t exist in the first place. A few bruises are nothing, and a whole lot of people are much safer.” She understood his point, but he knew her better than that. “This is how I make my way.”

He looked over her body, eyes lingering on every telling curve. There was not a trace of a mark on her anywhere he could see. Her knuckles were free of bruises, her face unmarred. “You need to find another way.”

Charlie chuckled. “You looking for a waitress?”

“Yeah.” He tugged her hair a little again at the game. But he wasn’t joking.

Charlie patted his chest. “I have a better idea. Wanna give up your life of bootlegging and help me track down public enemies? We’d be one hell of a team.”

She was buttering him up good, using her tone and soft touch to distract from his temper. Somewhat mollified, Matthew’s hands went to the buttons of her dress, determined to see for himself what lie underneath. She let him pull the cotton to her waist followed by her slip, exposing a smattering of dark smears decorating her left side. Callused fingertips gently touched and the male made a deep throaty noise, fuming, knowing bruises that dark came from more than a few punches. The man had swung at her with something.

“See, it’s nothing, and I got more than even. I shot him in the knee. He won’t ever walk right again.”

Fixing her attire, he buttoned her up tight. “Prohibition is nearing an end. Got plans to build my own distillery - use local spring water, local grown corn, local workers. The site has already been scouted. I own the land. The figures add up. Once laws change and licensing comes through, I could have it up and running legal in a year.”

Charlie had always pegged Matthew as a man with a vision. “Emerson’s finest whiskey, hmm? I think I’d enjoy watching you try to live the straight and narrow. Besides, you are so damn bossy, imagining you as a foreman ain’t a stretch.”

“Alright then.” Matthew gave her a long look promising a million things. “Let’s get you some supper.”

She trudged down the steps in his wake.

Once Nathaniel clamped eyes on her, he rushed forward to sweep her up, swinging her about until she was squealing.

“Well looky here,” Nathaniel chanted, setting her down and watching her wobble. “You think you’re dizzy now, just wait until you try this new batch of blackberry lightning. It will burn the sense right out of you.”

“That’s enough, Nathaniel,” Matthew barked. “Don’t be rough with her now.”

Ignoring Matthew, Charlie took the liquor and gave it a gulp, finding it pretty damn good. “Yup, there goes my sense.”

“It’s good to have you home,” Eli offered from behind the counter.

Smiling back at the boy, Charlie took her usual seat.

There was no awkwardness, no unwelcome feeling. From the moment she’d seen Matthew waiting for her on the platform, everything had just felt right. Then there was the food... A rich looking stew was simmering on the stove, her eyes glazing over just staring at it.

“I swear the way you look at chow,” Nathaniel chuckled, poking her in the shoulder. “It’s almost indecent, Charlie.”

She shot him a wry grin. “So, what have you boys been up to while I was gone?”

“Nothing much, it’s been quiet as a tomb these last few days.”

Putting her chin to her chest, Charlie cocked a brow. “Liar. I can see the shoddy stitches in your left knuckles.” Looking to Eli, she pointed out he was favoring his right leg. “So a brawl?”

“Naw,” Eli said with a shake of the head. “Just a little fun.”

“I bet.” She took another swig. “Who’d you kill?”

The way the boys both went just a little stiff, Charlie knew she’d hit the nail on the head. Looking at Nathaniel, she asked in a scandalous whisper, “He ain’t in the soup is he?”

She could see he was trying with all his power not to laugh; it lasted all of about ten seconds before Nathaniel was bellowing. When Matthew came over, he found Eli red faced, Charlotte sitting innocent as a lamb, and Nathaniel just about ready to fall out of his chair.

“Eli, set out supper for Charlotte, then get on the grill.” Matthew set a fresh cigar between his lips, striking a match as he corrected his idiot brother. “And Nathaniel, pull it together in front of the customers.”

Stew was ladled up, Matthew lingering to watch her take the first bite, hoping to hear the contented sigh she usually made over his cooking.

It was instant.

Between spoonfuls, Charlie asked, “So Eli, did you make up with Ruth?”

He nodded, straightening his lapels. “And I took her shooting.”

Looking at him with pride, Charlie was pleased to see he’d set his own aside. “I’m sure she enjoyed it.”

The way he colored, it was clear they both had.

“Are you blushing, Eli Emerson?” A spreading impish grin came with the coo, “Was Miss Cormac very grateful?”

The boy grew almost purple, turning back to the grill to flip some patties in an effort to abstain from answering.

Nathaniel seemed only too happy to join in on the teasing, “Why you all red, Eli?”

“Fuck you Nathaniel, I ain’t red.”

“From the shade of your face, I would say Ruth was very grateful,” Nathaniel jeered. “You should get a present for Miss Charlie, seeing as she’s the reason and all you finally got a hand up that girl’s skirt.”

Leave it to Nathaniel to take it too far.

“She ain’t that kind of girl,” Eli sputtered.

Charlie put her face in her hands, fighting not to snort. “Ignore him Eli, he’s just trying to get a rise out of you.”

“You been courtin that girl for over a year and you ain’t never got a hand up her skirt?” Nathaniel was dumbfounded, appalled.

Eli spoke without thinking. “A gentleman don’t just grab a lady and stick his hand up her skirt!”

Charlie could not bring herself to look at the youngest, and sure as hell couldn’t look at Nathaniel. If she did, she would fall to pieces. The only safe place was right at Matthew. The man indolently leaned back against the bar, his eyes shining wickedly under the scowl. She glanced at the bar where he had done just that, and then right back at him, her face growing warm. After a breath, Matthew let out a puff of smoke, eyes promising to do a lot more than stick a hand up her skirt next time they were alone.

He continued to watch her color, voice conceited as he muttered, “I think it’s time you went on up to bed, Charlotte. Looks like you need rest.”

Doing as she was told, she climbed from the stool with a nod, blushing something awful. “I think you may be right.”

As her skirts disappeared up the stairs, Nathaniel peered towards Matthew with the devil in his eye. “Eli, from the look on Matthew’s face I would say he might’n just have some advice for you in that department.”

“I ain’t got nothing to say to you,” Matthew grumbled, around his cigar.

“The hell you don’t.” Eli stared slack-jawed at a man who was practically smirking. “How did you keep her from slappin you?”

Matthew raised a brow at Eli’s dumb fuck question. “Eli, sometimes a woman don’t need a gentleman. Sometimes she needs a man.” That was the final word Matthew would say on the subject.

Nathaniel nodded. “Yup.”

By the time Matthew locked up and meandered upstairs, his golden girl was fast asleep, head tucked on the new pillow he’d bought for her while she’d been gone. Careful not to disturb Charlie, he slid between the sheets and moved real gently to hold her, thinking it sure was going to be nice to wake up next to something beautiful.

When morning came, Matthew was wrapped around her, his nose in her hair, the weight of his leg, tangled with hers and the reassuring arm around her middle making her smile. Moving carefully, so as not to disturb him, Charlie tried to slip out of his grasp, only to hear him growl and pull her closer. “Where you goin?”

She met sleepy eyes, finding them all soft and warm. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

A husky morning voice slurred, “S’alright,”

The silk of her blue nightgown was butter soft under his hand, but not what he wanted to touch. Matthew wanted the velvet of Charlotte’s skin. Running his palm from her hip he slipped under the fabric and sought out flesh, his arousal growing prominent. She’d missed him, proving it when slender fingers skimmed low to pull at the drawstring of his pants.

Charlie reached in to stroke the part of him that brought her such satisfaction, his sharp intake of breath a sign she was doing something right. Their first night together she hadn’t been free to touch him as she was now - he had been entirely too wrapped up in touching her to give her the chance. Skimming her hand from the root of his member, up the girth that pulsed in her fist, she squeezed a little tighter, paying extra attention to the crown. Matthew couldn’t help but pump into her fist. “Charlotte...”

She tugged at his pants, pulling that beautiful cock free, then quickly swooped down. Her lips brushed the swollen tip, her tongue darting out to taste the little slit on top. Before he could respond or think to speak, her mouth took him in, warm wet lips enveloping the length of his cock.

His hands tangled in her hair, Matthew groaning and thrusting just a little deeper into that velvet mouth. Charlie had heard stories over the years of men describing sucking cock - jokes and a few tricks some whore had performed for an extra dollar. She employed what she remembered, and when his hands began to set a pace, she smiled around his shaft. Her fingers played, stroking and exploring the tightening sack at the base. Her tongue played, sometimes running up and down, sometimes circling in her suction - Matthew making quite a racket, grunting and groaning each time she tried something new.

Charlie loved it.

He was breathless, looking down at her with desperate eyes. “Charlotte, darlin, you gotta stop.” Seeing her looking him dead in the eye, lips curled in a smile around the head of his cock, made his balls constrict, the urge to let go building at the base of his spine to the point he warned, “If you keep goin at it, I’m not gonna last much longer.”

“Good, I want to know what you taste like.” Her mouth took him so deep he hit the back of her throat, so deep he could feel her swallow.

That was his undoing. Welling pressure rose until he couldn’t hold it back. Over and over, he spurt, gushing right on her teasing tongue, groaning as she sucked. When she kept going, swallowing all he spilled, licking him clean, his eyes just about popped out of his skull. Drained of seed, he pulled her up and stared in fascination at her swollen, pink mouth, watching Charlotte lick her lips with no shame.

“Did I do good?” she asked, seeing his eyes go wide.

All he could do was gape, nod stupidly and grunt. After a few heartbeats, his gaze darkened. “Who the hell taught you to do that?”

Snickering, she rested against his chest. “Boys like to talk. That particular act seemed to be one of the more common subjects. I have heard it described in detail about a thousand times… Probably not something a decent woman would do.” She grew apprehensive. “If you don’t like it, I won’t do it again.”

“I like it just fine,” Matthew interjected quickly, enthusiastic as he patted her back.

She’d never heard him so fervent, and had to giggle.

Toying with the fabric of his nightshirt, resting happily against him, it wasn’t long before Charlie heard the snores.

Matthew was knocked out, smirking in sleep.

“Well I’ll be damned…”

Slinking away, a bit proud, she tried to think back on other naughty interludes the boys had bragged about, hoping Matthew might like them as much as he had her mouth on his pecker.

As she was coming down the stairs, Eli and Nathaniel stepped inside looking for breakfast. Feeling rather confident, Charlie pulled on the apron and offered to test her skills.

Eli looked around and saw his cousin was not in his office, “Where’s Matthew?”

Charlie shrugged. “Haven’t the slightest. Maybe he went to town.”

There was three inches of snow outside the door and the truck was clearly parked out back. Nathaniel gave her a smirk but said nothing.

Charlie began to crack eggs into a bowl, asking, “What do you boys do when weather gets bad?”

As if in answer, Nathaniel opened his coat and pulled out a jar, setting her to laughing. “Well, if you’re getting soused, then I’m afraid you can’t join me.”

He shot her a smirk and took another sip. “What you got planned, gonna sit and look at snow?”

Charlie grinned, devilish and eager. “I’m going hunting.”

Nathaniel just yawned. “That would explain the trousers.”

Boots sounded on the stairs. With bright eyes under the perpetual scowl, Matthew joined them. Distracted by Charlotte’s backside pert in men’s pants, he failed to hear Eli mock him for growing sluggard.

“It ain’t like you to sleep in, Matthew,” Eli declared around a mouthful of eggs. “You sick?”

The man in question grunted and looked to the plate of well-cooked breakfast Charlie slid before him. A cup of coffee soon followed, causing him to nod at the smiling chef in thanks. When he took a bite, it was actually tasty. “It’s real good, Charlotte.”

“You don’t look sick,” Eli continued.

“I ain’t sick, Eli,” Matthew growled, growing annoyed. “Stop gawking and eat your damn food.”

Nathaniel shook his head, eyes squinted shut at his stupid little cousin, certain the boy was about as bright as a broken light bulb.

Charlie sipped some tea, looking out the window at the weather. “You know Eli, Matthew may say he feels fine, but I think a good walk in the fresh air will do him good.” She set down her cup and met the intrigued eyes of her lover. “What do you say you join me for a little hunting and let Eli keep tabs on the grill today?”

Finishing his coffee, Matthew wordlessly stood and went upstairs to dress for the weather. An hour later, they were deep in the woods, stalking a doe that looked mighty tasty. Matthew was a fine tracker, better than she expected, but when they were near enough to make the kill, he aimed his shotgun and missed, startling the doe. Snapping her rifle to her shoulder, targeting the fleeing deer, Charlie brought down the beauty with one shot right through the eye.

Blackbird never misses, she thought with a smirk.

“How the hell you do that?” Matthew’s pride was a little wounded.

She bit her lip and tried not to smirk. “I aim before I shoot.”

Kneeling down next to him, she put the rifle back to her shoulder and began to explain. “The gun is an extension of my body. I think of, and feel it, as if it were my arm instead of a piece of wood and metal. That way when I pull the trigger, I know I’ll hit whatever I see.” She pulled the trigger again and shot an icicle across the way in a blast of sparkling frozen water.

Handing the rifle to Matthew, she ignored the tight set of his jaw, and nodded for him to shoulder it. “Now feel like it’s a part of you.” Her hand went to his neck, Charlie peering over his shoulder to sight his aim. “Relax, I can feel you all tense under my hand. Think of something nice, and when your breath is natural and you are ready, pull the trigger.”

Matthew was thinking of something nice alright. A tightening of his finger and a bullet blasted the target almost spot on. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

“The trick is to do it when things get sticky - to find that stillness. It’s the reason most men can’t aim for shit when it comes down to the wire. You pull out a pistol in the right mindset, and you’ve already won.”

He took in the unlikely woman, the serenity she found in danger. Setting the rifle aside, Matthew prowled over her, taking her lips for the first time that day. He held her down in the snow, growling like a wolf bent over his supper. Tongue tasting, lapping greedily, Matthew’s callused hand slipped under her layers of clothing to paw a breast and run his thumb over the tight little nipple.

He’d come at her so fast, Charlie had little time to do more than hitch her breath and brace as Matthew yanked apart her belt and opened her trousers. Cool fingers slinked inside, found her hot, and he kissed her, hard, again.

Teasing at the opening of her pussy, he denied her penetration, loving the way the woman arched and moaned so loud it was a blessing they were out in the middle of the woods. Matthew wanted more of that noise, more of the song she made for him. Twisting his fingers, he shoved in, thumbing her clit until the erratic jerk of her hips expressed how close he’d brought her. Trailing his hand from between her legs to her soft belly, pale eyes met hers, teasing, before turning her round about to set her on her knees. With Charlotte’s hands braced on the fallen tree trunk they’d used for cover, he tugged her trousers down to her knees.

Oblivious to the wet or the cold, she arched back and sighed when she heard the sounds of his belt coming undone. The head of his cock pressed hot against her, bulbous and probing. He surged, snapping his hips until they were fully joined. Groaning like a starved man finally given food, Matthew reached around to play with that little nub of nerves so she might scream some more. Charlie didn’t know whether to grind against his hand or buck back for more of his cock. Lost in the crude pounding and the rough little pinch on her clit, she let him have his way, turning her head so his lips could taste hers. She panted, cried out and begged him to take her harder. The stretch and searing heat, the masterful work of his fingers, it was her undoing. She climaxed so violently there were spots in her vision. While she reeled, he rutted a few more sporadic thrusts, ropes of the gooey tang she’d swallowed earlier filling her somewhere else.

They were both breathless, Matthew draped over her back, one arm tight around her middle. He brushed her cheek with a week’s old stubble, promising, “That was nothing compared to what I am going to do to you tonight.”

The excited whimper that passed through her throat inspired the man to swirl his tongue in the shell of her ear before pulling out, his eyes tied to the liquid aftermath wetting her thighs.

Aware any words the man spoke should be taken very seriously, Charlie fixed her trousers, wondering how on earth she’d been lucky enough to draw the attention of such a fine man.

Matthew offered her a hand when she stumbled, a little shaky on her feet, the hint of a smile teasing the corner of his mouth. She saw it and before she could say a word, he kissed her so deep she sighed.

The trek back was quick, and soon enough the doe was hanging from a tree ready to be gutted and cleaned.

Hunting knife in hand, Charlie went to make the slice down the belly, but Matthew stopped her. “Go on in and change out of those wet clothes. Eli and I will see to it.”

Handing over her knife, she was glad for the offer, uncomfortably cold from the after effects of their tumble in the drifts. By the time she came downstairs, dressed as a woman again, clean, warm and pretty, the meat was butchered and waiting.

After a day of preparing and seasoning deer for sausages, steaks - you name it - the four of them sat around one of the tables listening to the radio, each sipping their own jar. When it began to grow dark, Matthew shooed his kin away, sending them back to the farmhouse across the field with enough meat to see the boys though the coming storm - an unspoken cue to keep out.

Four days of snow and not a soul in sight made for some slow languid days before the fire and hot passionate nights between the sheets. Even new to the sport, Charlie kept him on his toes, not a touch bashful as she discovered Matthew’s love of the tricks she’d heard of over the years.