“I’m not talking to you as a therapist,” Sadie said. “I’m talking to you as an old friend. As someone who knew you before him. You’re not the only one. And you don’t have to be embarrassed.”

“I don’t have to be embarrassed?” Alison asked. “I think I do, actually. Because...because I think you have to be pretty stupid to get pulled into something like this.”

“That’s not true,” she said. “It’s not. It doesn’t matter how smart you are. It’s not your brain making these decisions. It’s your emotions. It’s the things he’s done to you. The things he’s told you. The stuff he’s twisted all up so slowly over the years you barely realized what was happening.”

The other woman shook her head. “It’s too late for me,” she said. “I don’t have anyone else. I don’t have anything else. Just this job. And that man.”

“Then get more,” Sadie said, frustration burning through her. “Want more.”

Alison stood up. “I don’t remember how. Coffee and pie are on me. Thank you,” she said. “Just...thank you.”

Alison turned, slight shoulders hunched, and walked back to the counter, just as Eli walked through the door.

Sadie stood, not having any of the appetite to finish her pie, even if it was free pie, and walked toward him, shepherding him back out the door before he could ask why.

“Did you get him home?” she asked, barely meeting Eli’s eyes when they were out in the parking lot.

“Yeah,” Eli said. “Do you see what it’s like?”

“He deserved to be hit. He deserved to have his head shoved into the pavement.”

“Yeah, and I can’t do that, Sadie. The minute I act like I can, I’m not a whole lot better than he is. Because I have authority and I have to be careful never to abuse that. But I might have let Mark and the other guys off with a warning if they would have done it. Or if someone would have...said anything.”

“Given you a reason to arrest him,” she said.

“That’s the problem with situations like this,” Eli said, putting his hands on his lean hips and looking back toward the diner. “She’s an adult. I can’t drag her out of that house any more than I can put handcuffs on him for something I suspect but have never seen.” He turned and hit the top of his patrol car with his open palm, a rough growl escaping his lips. “Sometimes the more power you have the less powerful you feel.”

“She won’t... I tried to talk to her,” Sadie said. “But...”

“I know.” He took a deep breath. “Listen, I’m on for a while longer. I’ll take you to your car.”

“Okay. We’ll see each other tonight?”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah. I think I need to.”

* * *

She wasn’t less nervous than she’d been the night before. If anything, she was more nervous. Because now she knew for a fact the intensity between Eli and herself wasn’t a fluke.

Because she was kind of going all in tonight, knowing full well what she was getting herself into. It was a dangerous game and she liked it. That surprised her more than anything.

But today had been beyond upsetting and she was looking forward to something just as strong to help take away some of the unsettled feelings that remained.

At least for a while.

You can’t fix things for people when they don’t want them fixed.

She’d reminded herself of that countless times over the years. Every time she hadn’t called her mother. Checked in on her to see if her father was still ruling the house with a fist of iron. Because she’d tried to help. And her mother had chosen to stay. Her mother had chosen the man who’d put her daughter in the hospital. So Sadie had accepted that she couldn’t change things for her mom and had set about changing them for herself.

She was going to have to let this go, too. Even though it sucked. It was a lot harder when you couldn’t physically let it go by driving into another city and never looking back.

“Bah.” She stalked into the kitchen and hauled herself up onto the counter, her knees planted firmly on the granite surface as she rummaged through one of the cabinets for a bottle of wine. Probably she would have to get a real fancy-ass wine rack for when guests were here. Luckily, she had a little time.

She took two glasses down, along with the wine, because in all honesty, Eli probably needed a drink, too.

She wondered if he would get more relaxed if he had a glass or two. If she could get him to smile. If his lips would taste like merlot and sin and the smile that was the rarest thing she could think of.

She licked her own lips in anticipation and carried the objects she now considered her fantasy aids into the living room.

She was still in the same clothes she’d been wearing earlier—sad for Eli, no matching bra and panties for him today. But after the incident at the diner, she’d thrown herself into B and B things, including looking at website proofs, which were fan-freaking-tastic, and choosing the stain for her deck, which was very nearly done because a whole team of burly men could handle decks like no one’s business.

She hummed as she set the glasses on the old-fashioned captain’s trunk she was using for a coffee table and sat on the couch, her feet tucked up under her.

And for one heart-crinkling moment she really wanted Eli to just come and sit next to her. To release his stress while she let go of hers. To share in a calm moment.

She blinked. No. That wasn’t what this was about. It wasn’t supposed to be about sharing emotions. It was supposed to be about sharing nakedness and orgasms.

The heavy knock on her front door saved her from her thoughts. “It’s open!” she shouted.

She heard the door open, then close, the heavy shoes on the wood floor, and finally Eli appeared in the living room entryway.

“Hiya,” she said, surveying his tall, lean frame. He’d changed. Dark jeans conforming to muscular thighs, a tight black T-shirt giving hints of all the fun that lay beneath the fabric.

“Hi,” he said.

“You can come in,” she said, patting the empty spot beside her.

“Right.” He cast a long look at a sleeping Toby, who was in the chair he’d claimed as his own, before walking across the room and joining her on the couch, keeping a healthy distance between them.

“Wine?” she asked.

“I don’t really care for it.”

Well, dammit. There went her merlot-flavored fantasy. She’d just drink enough for both of them. “Well, I hope you don’t mind if I drink,” she said, tugging the already-popped cork out. She poured herself a generous amount, then picked the glass up and clinked the edge against the empty one still sitting on the trunk. “Cheers to me, then.” She took a sip and sat back, feeling distinctly broody now. Because she’d gotten a picture in her head that shouldn’t have been there, and now she was disappointed for him not conforming to said ill-advised picture.

“Are you mad at me now?” he asked.

She looked up over her glass and at him, at serious brown eyes that made her stomach do tricks. “A little.”

“Why?” he asked, the corners of his mouth turning up.

There was her smile. A small one, but she’d gotten it. “Because you were supposed to drink wine and be cozy with me.”

“That doesn’t sound like what we agreed on,” he said, his tone gentle. Why was he being so nice? She was trying to be peeved.

“No, I know it doesn’t. But I was sort of hoping for it. Because I am a fickle and difficult creature.”

“Yeah, you are.”