Love and War: A Bad Boy Romance (Small Town Bad Boys Book 2) Read online

  She was shy, hesitant. I watched and felt her reactions carefully so as to not cross any boundaries and scare her. My cock had been rock hard ever since I first tasted her sweet lips. It was all I could do to be a gentleman and not ravage her right there at the bar.

  But goddamn what an animal in bed she turned out to be.

  I could never bring myself to sleep with anyone after Katie and it was like three years of building frustration and animalistic need burst out of me the moment I sank into Hazel’s sweet pussy.

  When my hand reached the opposite end of the bed only to find empty space, I opened my eyes. Sure enough, Hazel was gone.

  I sat up, momentarily confused. I knew she agreed to spend the night. We fell asleep while she was wrapped up in my arms. The sweet smell of her glossy, dark hair was the last thing I remembered before falling asleep.

  I looked toward the bathroom. The door was open and it sat empty. When I listened carefully, the entire house was still.

  Throwing my legs over the side of the bed, I pulled on last night’s boxer shorts and noticed her clothes were no longer on the floor.

  I frowned to myself as I rubbed the stubble on my jaw. None of these signs looked good.

  Padding barefoot through the empty house, I made my way into the kitchen and looked out the front window overlooking the yard and street. Sure enough, her car was gone.

  I let out a sigh as I adjusted my now-diminishing morning wood and started up a pot of coffee. It would have been nice to go at it again this morning, maybe after a nice, steamy shower together.

  A tightness in my chest that felt almost like guilt pulled at me. She enjoyed it last night, there was no doubt about that. She came good and powerful all over my cock at least half a dozen times.

  But I fucked her from behind like a dirty secret. Clearly she liked it a little dirty, with how she begged for that spanking and loved the hair pulling. Still, I would have liked to have taken it slow with her in the second round. Eating her juicy, soaking pussy for breakfast. Looking into her gorgeous face when I made her come, seeing how the morning light bathed her delightfully curvy body.

  Damn, Barnes. You got attached to her quick.

  The realization surprised me. But it was true. I got way more attached to Hazel than every other blind date I was set up on over the past three years. I barely knew her but there was something about her I couldn’t explain. Something that drew me to her like a moth to a flame.

  Not that it mattered.

  I poured my steaming hot cup of coffee, watching the dark liquid swirl around like Hazel’s hair across her back and shoulders last night.

  One night was plenty for her, apparently. I had no choice but to accept that.

  It wasn’t entirely unsurprising that she left without a word. Pretty standard one-night etiquette actually. I couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed though. We would’ve had a fun morning.

  I picked up my phone and scrolled through my contacts as I took my first scalding sip of coffee, halfway hoping she left her number in my phone but of course, no dice. I didn’t even know her last name.

  A message from my dad popped up on my screen. It read, “How are you holding up, son?”

  I bristled with annoyance despite knowing he was just trying to look out for me. I was just getting to a point where my grief didn’t affect my daily life anymore but these kinds of messages only encouraged me to dwell on it.

  “Doing just fine,” I typed back.

  My old man, Detective Jeffrey Barnes, investigated some of the most notorious crimes in the entire state of California. Somehow he still had a soft side to him. He truly cared about people.

  While I was still in the police academy Dad moved from San Francisco to Cloverville, saying he was ready to retire in a quiet farming community. But he couldn’t stop working yet, as I knew he wouldn’t, out of his sense of duty and justice.

  The Cloverville police department was practically frothing at the mouth to have a detective with his track record on their force. They offered him a salary competitive to his cushy San Francisco one and he took it without a second thought.

  As a gung-ho rookie cop with too much energy and not enough street smarts, I couldn’t understand why he’d leave the fast-paced city where every day was an adrenaline rush. Every time I chased a bad guy, wrestled him to the ground, and cuffed him up, it was such a rush. A quiet life in the country sounded painfully boring in comparison.

  He warned me constantly to keep a level head, to focus on what mattered, which was civilian safety. Even if it meant letting some bad boys go if it saved lives. I never listened.

  It wasn’t until my fiancee died in my arms that I realized the importance of what he told me. How precious innocent life truly was.

  A part of me died with her. I turned in my badge while still in a numbed state of shock but Dad wouldn’t let me quit. For months, just the thought of putting on that uniform made me want to vomit. How could I serve and protect my city when I couldn’t even keep the woman I loved safe?

  Somehow Dad convinced me to move out here, to a new environment, where I wouldn’t hear gunshots every night triggering me back to that night. He set up a job for me with the small, sleepy department here. Eventually I could put on the uniform without feeling sick. I started with part time hours then gradually worked up to full time.

  I don’t know if time healed me. I could at least maintain the facade of moving on and rebuilding my life without her. The daily pain in my chest eventually stopped except for on the anniversary of her death. Only on that day, it all came rushing back to me like no time had passed at all. With each passing year, however, I seemed to make it through the day a little easier. Drinking myself into a stupor usually helped.

  But I could never date or sleep with anyone else, no matter how many women threw themselves at me. Not until last night. The third anniversary of that night. Not until Hazel.

  If that was even her real name.

  Well, nice knowing you, beautiful, I thought as I drained my coffee cup and set it down in the sink. You did more for this sad, sappy bastard than you realize.

  I did my best to push her out of my mind as I set about my morning routine before work. Heading back to the bedroom to put on my running shorts, shoes and tank top, I couldn’t help but take a final glance at her empty side of the bed before jogging out the front door.

  I always ran to the gym. It was such a perfect warm up before hitting the heavy weights.

  Everything in Cloverville was in such close proximity to each other, I intentionally chose my neighborhood because it was the farthest from the gym at about two miles away.

  I’m not a morning person so it usually took me a few blocks to get into a good pace with steady breathing. But that morning, I felt an extra burst of energy the moment my feet hit the sidewalk.

  The morning air was sweet and refreshing and the sunlight felt warm and pleasant on my skin, like a lover’s touch.

  Like Hazel’s touch.

  Damn. Keeping her out of my mind was going to be tricky. Such a shame she didn’t leave her number.

  I slept like a baby after my night with her. Shooting my load all over her sexy back felt like it took everything out of me.

  But I definitely had tons more energy that morning. I finished my run in record time and smashed my old personal records on my deadlift and bench press.

  As I sat on the edge of the bench, wiping the sweat from my face and catching my breath before I showered, my mind repeated the question I asked her last night. The question she avoided answering.

  Who are you, Hazel?

  CHAPTER SIX

  HAZEL

  I tossed and turned restlessly until sunlight streamed through the window. The exact opposite of how I slept in Liam's bed, with his arm wrapped protectively around me and his soft breath in my hair.

  Why did I leave again? Why did I jump to the conclusion that he was a cheater just from some random sleeptalking?

  Because it's the obvious e
xplanation. A one-night stand isn't rocket science, Hazel.

  Giving up on sleep, I kicked the covers away and stretched, wincing at the popping sounds in my back.

  The futon in my brother's guest bedroom made my back horribly stiff. Thank God I was only staying here temporarily.

  His wife Dahlia offered me their bed, bless her heart but Ash put his foot down on that suggestion. She was pregnant and needed a more comfortable bed than his sister who had just come to crash briefly.

  Ash was already gone for work by the time I got up and followed the smell of coffee to the kitchen like a zombie.

  The tenderness between my legs amplified the vivid memories of last night. I could still feel Liam's hands all over me and inside me, drawing the sweetest and most intense sensations out of me like an exorcism.

  I still wobbled a little on jello-like legs and leaned one hand on the wall for support.

  How unfair that one night with a strange, deceptive man would ruin all of my sexual experiences from here on out. Whoever I ended up with, someone probably safe and boring, would always be compared to my single, exhilarating one-night stand.

  With a man who would probably forget my name and call me "Katie" in the heat of the moment if I had stayed for another round.

  As I rounded the corner down the hallway from the guest room, Dahlia and her adorable baby bump stood at the kitchen counter buttering slices of toast.

  "Morning, Haze!" she greeted cheerily then shot me an apologetic look. "The coffee is decaf, sorry."

  "Ah, I should have known," I muttered, trying to hide my disappointment.

  "I think Ash left some cold brew in the fridge. He makes a ton so help yourself to it. Do you want me to heat it up for you?"

  "No!" I stopped her on the way to the fridge. "For fuck's sake, Dahlia. You don't have to be such an accommodating host. I can get it myself."

  She laughed as she returned to the counter. "You know me, I always have to be doing something. I'm going crazy now that I'm not at the flower shop all day."

  "Well, you gotta take it easy with my little niece or nephew in there."

  I located Ash's giant pitcher of cold brew and helped myself to a tall glass with milk and sugar. I could already feel how hot it was going to be today. Even though it was only spring in the Central Valley, it would feel like a long, blistering desert summer.

  That was one thing I missed about San Francisco. The bay area would never get above 75 degrees even in the middle of summer and it was glorious.

  "So what are you up to today?" Dahlia asked me.

  "Job hunting, most likely," I replied.

  Or more like trying to job hunt while I daydream about Liam's cock filling me up again.

  "Your phone's been going off all morning." Dahlia nodded toward my purse where I hung it up next to the front door. "I heard you come in pretty late. Fun night?"

  "Uh, something like that," I stammered, feeling my face get hot as I practically ran across the kitchen to my bag.

  A mixture of excitement and confusion filled me. I was sure I didn't give him my number. Did I? Was I that drunk and it just slipped from my memory? No, I was definitely sober enough to drive over there and back home.

  "Well, who is it?" Dahlia giggled.

  My face fell when I looked at the screen, my excitement deflating like a balloon.

  "It's my wonderful, adoring mother," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

  "Oh, yay." Dahlia's tone oozed even more sarcasm. I couldn't blame her. I wouldn't want my own mother as an in-law either. "Well, at least she's lasered in on you today instead of putting her paws all over my stomach again."

  "This can't be good," I muttered. My mom's texts indicated she wanted to meet up for a girl's lunch. Apparently her friend's daughter, who I went to school with, was also in town and wanted to catch up.

  It sounded innocent enough but that in itself was suspicious. My mother always had some ulterior motive.

  "She's going to auction off my virginity or something," I told Dahlia after reading her texts. "To the bidder with the most money and the most virile sperm."

  "Oh God, stop!" she shrieked with laughter. "That is exactly something your mother would do! I swear she convinced herself I was a virgin until we announced the pregnancy. Even though my due date makes it obvious we conceived before we got married."

  "This woman tried to petition for removing biological science classes from our school district," I said. "Because children need more teaching from God and less bodily obscenity."

  "You're fucking with me." Dahlia's jaw dropped.

  "I wish I was," I said apologetically. "She and modern science are not friends."

  "My God, did she convince herself that the stork delivered you and Ash too?"

  "Probably. She must've gotten high on Ambien before having carnal relations with Dad."

  Dahlia and I howled with laughter over the next few minutes while my phone continued to buzz insistently.

  "Damn, she's really not going to let me say no," I sighed.

  "If I've learned anything from marrying into your family, it's to set clear and firm boundaries," Dahlia said. "But also to pick your battles. You haven't seen her since you got back into town and she probably misses you." She ran a light hand across her belly. "I'd miss my daughter too if I hadn’t seen her in months."

  She was right, as much as I hated to admit it.

  "Guess I'll freshen up and get ready," I said, slowly rising from the kitchen table. "Too bad my virginity isn't worth shit anymore."

  "Uh-huh," Dahlia said, eyeballing my wobbly sex gait. "But I bet last night's fun was priceless."

  "Shut uuuup!" I groaned as I shut the door to the bathroom.

  ***

  Mom told me to meet her at the cute little cafe downtown, Cafe Soledad, just a block from Dahlia's flower shop. I arrived right on time. She was late, of course.

  I perused the brunch menu, my stomach growling. I only had coffee at home that morning and barely ate at all the previous night before I went to the bar.

  And then found myself on my hands and knees getting deliciously fucked by the hottest man I'd ever seen.

  Maybe that was why I felt so hollow, so emptied out inside. It'd been at least a year since I had good, satisfying sex and would likely be many more until I had anything resembling what Liam did to me.

  A cute, young waitress, probably a student at the local high school, came up to me with a smile and asked if I'd like to order. Glancing at my watch and then down the sidewalk, there was no sign of my mom so I didn't see the harm in getting started.

  I ordered a savory crepe filled with cheese, spinach and bacon, plus my second cup of coffee for the day.

  The food came swiftly, still hot from the griddle, and I was halfway through my plate when my mom finally came through the cafe door with her friend Beatrice in tow.

  And a young man following behind them.

  Fuck. I should have fucking known this would have been a chaperoned date.

  "Hi mom," I greeted with a straight face as I stood to give her a hug.

  "Hazel, did you forget your manners?" she said tensely while eyeing my half-eaten crepe. "Eating before the whole party is here?"

  "You told me noon." I glanced at my watch again, which read 12:30 pm. "And I was starving."

  "Well, it doesn't make a very good impression..."

  Only in my mother's world would something as benign as a crepe cause drama.

  "Oh, Phyllis! It's not Hazel's fault we're late." Beatrice swooped in to hug me and save the day. "So good to see you, dear!"

  "Do you remember Bea's son, Timothy?" Mom gestured to the young man who followed them in like an obedient puppy. "You two went to school together, didn't you?"

  "I don't recall but, hi! Nice to meet you." I held out my hand for him to shake. He was tall and clean-cut, but rail thin like he hadn't filled out from his growth spurt yet. I had a hunch he was a bit young for us to be in school at the same time.

  "Hazel, I'm
Timothy. It's a pleasure."

  Rather than shake my hand like a normal person, he took a light hold of my fingertips and bent stiffly at the waist to kiss the back of my palm.

  Mom and Bea looked on proudly at this display of perfect, chaste gentlemanliness while other patrons openly stared as if we were actors on a stage.

  Horrified, but desperate not to show it, I plastered a huge, fake smile on my face as I retrieved my hand from his grasp and held it close to my chest.

  Dear God, please kill me now.

  I sat my ass back down in my chair despite wanting nothing more than to run out the door. Timothy scurried around the table to pull out chairs for our mothers before seating himself next to me.

  After getting an eyeful of our comedic shitshow, the waitress walked over as casually as could be to take everyone else’s orders. I wanted to ask for a mimosa, or better yet, a whole bottle of champagne to drown in but couldn’t bring myself to make eye contact with her.

  Just after she took their menus and left, Bea stood with Timothy right behind her.

  “We’re going to wash our hands,” she chirped, both of them heading straight for the bathrooms. I wondered if she was going to change his diaper too.

  “Slick Phyllis does it again,” I muttered as soon as Mom and I were alone.

  “Do you have to be so rude, Hazel?” she chided. “This is why I told you she had a daughter, so you’d at least make an effort but you managed to set this off on the wrong foot already.”

  “What can I say. I always outdo myself.”

  “Timothy is a perfectly suitable match for you, as long as you don’t spoil your chances. Honestly dear, you don’t have much time left.”

  “Really? Based on what, I wonder? And secondly, I’m twenty-five, not forty!”

  My blood was starting to boil. My mother knew exactly how to get under my skin and drive me insane. And the older I got without a ring on my finger and a bun in my oven, the further she drove me to that edge.