Page 2 of Country

He rolls his eyes and holds out his forty-five for me to take. “You’d be surprised.”

Right now is one of those moments where I have a choice. I could push the man back and leave him outdoors where he belongs, or I could take this gun into my hand and answer whatever questions he has, hoping he’s as excited for the possibilities as I am. You know, the possibility where he’s desperate for a woman in a robe, and a long t-shirt with a hot chocolate stain in the center of it.

I take the cold steel in my hand and back away from the door, allowing the giant inside.

The gun is heavier than I thought. I’ve never really held one before, though I’ve been around them all my life. Everyone in town has one, but they make me uneasy. I set it on the counter to rid myself of the pressure.

The man steps inside and closes the cabin door, immediately dwarfing everything around him. Outside, he’s huge. Inside, he’s a goliath in a dollhouse. The table looks tiny, the doorway looks smaller, and my furniture may as well be for forest elves.

“Well, didn’t think you’d actually let me in. You shouldn’t let strangers in your house, darlin’.”

My clit throbs again. I never realized I liked being called darlin’. Turns out, I do. I like it a lot. I can’t show it, though. Showing it would mean I approve of his ridiculous behavior, which I don’t.

“Darlin’? I’m not your darlin’.”

“It’s just a word.” He lowers himself onto the armchair in the living room carefully, as though he knows how big he is, and he wonders if the chair can hold his weight. The chair creaks as he sits. “How long have you known Mike?”

I pour another cup of tea and bring one for the country boy. “Seven years. We met in high school, started dating, and kept it up on and off through college.”

“So, he went to college with you?”

“Oh no. I went to college, and he did… stuff.”

“You were together, but you don’t know what he was doin’ while you were away?”

I hand the man called Country a cup of tea. His hand swallows up the mug, and another twinge vibrates against my clit. Clearly, I have a problem. “Well, he told me he was working at his grandpa’s repair shop. Not the big one off Main Street, but a little homespun shop in the mountains. His grandpa used to do repairs on motorcycles, and he rebuilt engines. That’s what Mike told me. I don’t know if it’s really true.”

“When was the last time you had contact with Mike?”

I shake my head and sit on the couch opposite of Country. He’s not showing signs of seducing me, which is making this whole experience a lot less interesting. I blow out a frustrated breath as I say, “I don’t know. Maybe a few weeks ago.”

“Three weeks? Four weeks? What’s a few?” He sets his mug on the table and leans in.

“Coaster,” I insist as his drink hits the wood. Why did I say that? Who wants to seduce the coaster police?

His eyes roll and he moves the cup to the lace doily I made last weekend when I was sitting alone, questioning all my life decisions. “Is that when you broke up?”

I shake my head and look down at the floor, studying the spirals on the plank. “No. We broke up months ago.”

“Why was he here then?”

“He’s been… I don’t know. It’s complicated. I thought you were going to ask me questions about him. Like, his habits, what he likes to eat, how he thinks.”

“I’ll get to that, but first I need to get an idea of how far away he could be.”

My brows raise. “Not far. Like I said, saw him three weeks ago.” I steady my breathing as my stomach shakes. It was dumb of me to think this big, rough, bad boy would be into me, and even dumber of me to let him in. Apparently, I’m that kind of desperate.

“Why does he continue to come back if you broke up months ago?”

I stare at Country. He’s a brute, so I’m not sure he would understand anything I told him about emotions.

“Life is complicated,” I say, sipping on my tea. “I tend to trust the wrong people. It’s a terrible habit.”

“So, when did you find out about the illegal gun sales?”

I laugh under my breath. “When you told me.”

“Did you confront him?”

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