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Authors: Joan Johnston

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BOOK: Sinful
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Leah glanced at Eve as she took a few steps toward Eve’s cluttered bed. “You seem to be packing quite a bit of stuff.”

“I want to make sure I have everything I need.”

“Give me a day to talk to Matt,” Leah began. “Maybe I can get him to change his mind about keeping your mustangs here at Kingdom Come.”

“Don’t waste your breath asking for favors. Matt’s every bit as ruthless as Daddy.”

Leah threaded her fingers together, something Eve knew she did to keep from fidgeting when she was anxious. She met Eve’s gaze with troubled eyes and said, “You can’t move in with Connor Flynn.”

“Who’s going to stop me?” Eve waited for the scalding diatribe she knew was coming. If King was rabid on the subject of Flynns, Leah was worse. Eve wasn’t sure what the Flynns had done to Leah, personally, to make her hate them. But someone had done something sometime, because Leah was militant about keeping her sisters away from them.

But Leah didn’t go after the Flynns. She took a completely different tack. She set her balled hands on her hips and said, “King is going to have ten fits when he finds out about this.”

“Daddy’s made it clear he can’t help me. Connor Flynn can.”

“You know King would if he could.”

“I know no such thing,” Eve retorted. “Now, if Matt were the one in trouble, I have no doubt Daddy
would figure out a way to loan him whatever he needed.”

“King doesn’t have the money!” As soon as the words were out of Leah’s mouth, she clapped her hands over it.

Eve sank onto the bed. “You just got through telling Taylor and Vick that Daddy’s got something financial in the works. Are you saying now that he doesn’t?”

“What King told me wasn’t meant to be shared. Just know, a great deal is at risk. For all of us. And for heaven’s sake, don’t say anything about this to King.”

Eve’s mouth twisted wryly. “I won’t be around to say anything to him. I’m moving in with Connor Flynn tonight.”

“Does it have to be tonight?”

“The light of day isn’t going to change my mind.” Eve rose and began packing again.

“Is there something romantic going on between you two?” Leah asked, a furrow of worry between her brows.

“What in the world gave you that idea?” Eve snapped.

“I have eyes, don’t I? I watched you yearn for somebody else’s husband all the years Connor and Molly were married.”

Well. That was plain speaking. Eve flushed. “There’s no great romance in the offing. Whatever I feel—or felt—doesn’t matter. Connor doesn’t think of me like that.” To her great regret. “I’m staying there strictly to help him with his kids.”

“Where will you sleep?”

“He’s got an extra bedroom in the house.”

“Watch yourself, Eve. You can’t trust a Flynn. Give him a chance and Connor will steal your heart, then lie to you and let you down.”

“Connor wouldn’t do that.”

“He was raised a Flynn. They’re rotten, root to branch.”

“Just for the record, I think you’re wrong. At least about Connor. I’ve known him a long time, and he’s not like that.”

“They’re all like that,” Leah said flatly.

“Which one of them hurt you?”

Leah’s face blanched.

“Aiden? Brian? Devon?” Eve watched for some reaction, but she didn’t get it. Leah’s features remained as frozen as chiseled stone. “Surely not Connor,” she said, horrified.

“No, not Connor. Just believe me when I say that the Flynn brothers are trouble. Keep your distance. Protect your heart. Don’t give one a chance to disappoint you, and you won’t end up disappointed.”

Eve stared at her eldest sister. She’d had no idea Leah had been hurt so badly by one of Angus Flynn’s sons. Leah had always seemed so strong and indomitable. When had she given one of them her heart? And why had he broken it? Eve wanted to offer comfort, but Leah had erected an emotional barricade around herself that she’d never known how to breach. She settled for saying, “I’m sorry you got hurt, Leah.”

Leah stiffened.

Eve wasn’t sure whether her older sister appreciated the sympathy or was appalled at having revealed so much of her very private life. Eve closed her suitcase and zipped it up, then set the roller bag on the
floor. “I’m out of here. I don’t envy you having to deal with Matt every day. Where do you think you’ll go when you have to leave?”

“I’m not leaving.”

That statement, made with such certainty, flummoxed Eve. “How are you going to manage that?”

A look Eve had seen many times appeared on her sister’s face. “I don’t know yet. But this is my home. By hook or by crook, I’m staying right here.”

Eve grinned. “I do believe Matt Grayhawk has met his match.”

Leah shuddered. “Heaven forbid.”

Eve laughed. “I didn’t mean it that way. I just meant—”

“I know what you meant.”

When Leah opened her arms, Eve stepped close enough to receive the hug that had meant love and comfort and safety all her life.

Leah was always there. Always reliable. Always available. It was good to know there would always be one person who would stand by her through thick and thin.

“I’ll miss you,” Leah said as she let Eve go. “Call if you need anything. I’ll be right here.” Her chin lifted as she added, “I’m not going anywhere.”

A bubble of laughter escaped Eve at the image of Leah digging in her claws like a cat caught in the curtains and refusing to leave. “I shouldn’t laugh. It isn’t funny. But it is. I guess Daddy didn’t figure on you when he gave Matt the ranch.”

“Be careful,” Leah whispered as Eve headed out the door, trailing her suitcase behind her.

“You, too,” Eve shot back over her shoulder.

Chapter 7

E
VE AWOKE WITH
a start when she turned over and encountered a warm body in bed with her. She’d been dreaming of Connor kissing and caressing her and half expected to find him there. She sat up, her eyes full of sleep, her hair a mass of rats’ nests, and smiled ruefully as she surveyed the two small forms on either side of her. Not Connor, but Connor’s children. Sometime during the night Brooke and Sawyer had found their way into her bedroom at Safe Haven and into her bed.

Eve slowly pulled her knees up, looped her arms around them, then settled her chin on her knees to watch the two sleeping children with wonder. Brooke was lying on her back, her hair a spray of chestnut on the pillow, her arms splayed above her on either side of her head. Sawyer was tucked into a ball on his stomach, his arms curled under him. She’d always loved Molly and Connor’s children, always been fascinated by their enthusiasm for life, always been amazed by their curiosity, and always been humbled by their willingness to love without limits. Surely it wouldn’t take long for Connor to win their trust again. Which meant she wouldn’t be here long enough to lose the
battle with her good sense, which warned her to keep her distance from the children’s father.

Eve’s gaze was focused on Brooke and Sawyer, so she wasn’t sure how she knew she was no longer alone. When she looked up she found Connor standing in the open doorway. His gaze wasn’t directed toward his children. It was aimed at her.

“Good morning,” he said in a husky voice.

He was bare-chested, exposing every ridge in a six-pack belly and the powerful curve of his impressive biceps. She saw several long, ridged scars running through the dark hair on his chest, which she presumed were injuries from the same improvised explosive device that had caused the wound on his forehead. The first two buttons of his jeans were undone so they hung low, exposing his hipbones and a line of down that began at his navel and disappeared into the worn denim. Her gaze traveled all the way down his long legs to his bare feet and then back up again.

She had to clear her throat to reply, “Good morning.”

Eve hugged her knees tighter to her chest, aware that the white T-shirt she’d worn to bed was thin enough to see through and that all she had on beneath it was a pair of pink bikini underwear.

“I was worried when I didn’t find the kids in Brooke’s bed,” he said quietly. “I thought you might be able to help me find them.”

Eve felt her heart jump when Connor’s eyes remained locked on hers. She realized now that being in Connor’s home was fraught with a great many unexpected pitfalls, like being caught half dressed in bed by a half-dressed man you secretly loved. She felt her
nipples peak as her body responded to the avid look in Connor’s eyes. She tore her gaze away and concentrated it on the children. They were the reason she was here. The
only
reason she was here.

“They look like sleeping angels,” she said.

Brooke suddenly opened her eyes and spotted her father. At first she didn’t move. Then she subtly but surely inched herself closer to Eve, wrapping one of her tiny hands around Eve’s ankle.

“Good morning, sweet pea,” Connor said to his daughter, his voice gruff with emotion.

Eve watched him stuff his hands in the back pockets of his Levi’s and figured he’d done it to keep himself from reaching for his daughter. Unfortunately for Eve, the move also outlined the hardened shaft behind his zipper. Eve was amazed at how little it had taken for him to become aroused. On the other hand, it hadn’t taken more than a look from him for the same thing to happen to her. Except she
loved
him. He only
liked
her. His reaction was merely a physiological male response to a half-naked female. It could have been any female. It just happened to be her.

She heard Leah’s admonition in her head.
Be careful
.

What if the children hadn’t been here? Would he have acted on his attraction? Would she have acted on hers?

Connor had already admitted he wasn’t heart-whole, that he was still mourning Molly. Was she willing to accept the little bit of himself that he had to offer?

Yes. I want him. I love him
.

She had the awful feeling that a single look would
have been all he needed to have her flat on her back the instant they were alone. Pride kept her from giving Connor any encouragement.

As Brooke sat up, Eve brushed the little girl’s bangs away from her face and said, “I was surprised to find you here this morning.”

“Me and Sawyer woke up and wanted to go home. We were looking for a phone to call Nana and Bampa when we found you.”

Eve saw Connor wince at his daughter’s explanation.

“I’m glad you found me,” Eve said.

“Are you gonna stay with us forever?” Brooke asked.

Eve glanced at Connor. “I’m here for as long as you need me.”
And not one second longer
.

Sawyer rolled over onto his back, his feet flopping. He scrubbed at his eyes, then sat up and asked his father, “Can I have pancakes for breakfast?”

The matter-of-fact statement made it clear Sawyer’s hunger came a long way ahead of anything else. Eve and Connor smiled at each other before he answered, “Sure.”

“How about you, Brooke?” Eve said. “Pancakes?”

“With blueberries?” Brooke asked.

“We don’t have any blueberries,” Connor said. He hurried to add, “But I’ll get some for next time.”

Brooke scrambled toward the edge of the bed. “Come on, Sawyer. Let’s go get dressed.”

Sawyer scuttled after her on all fours.

“I’ll come help,” Connor said.

Brooke stopped short. “I want Aunt Eve to help.”

If she’d been dressed in decent pajamas, Eve would
have gotten out of bed and followed the little girl to her room. But she wasn’t about to stick so much as a naked toe out from under the covers while Connor was standing there watching. “I need to get dressed first.”

She should have known better than to try reasoning with a four-year-old.

Brooke stomped her foot. “No. Come now.”

Sawyer tried stomping his foot but stumbled sideways instead. He ended up clapping his hands. “Come now!”

Eve realized her modesty was going to have to suffer. She shoved the sheet aside and heard Connor’s soft gasp as she threw her bare legs out from under the covers. She had a warm robe, but she hadn’t unpacked it last night. She hadn’t unpacked much of anything, which was why she’d gone to bed in a T-shirt. She reached for her jeans, which she’d left in a pile on the floor, stepped into them, and pulled them on, aware that Connor was standing frozen on the other side of the room.

When she stood upright, she saw his gaze fall to her chest, where her areolas were clearly visible through the thin cotton. Eve felt a hot flush working its way up her throat. She didn’t bother trying to find her socks and boots, just ran to the doorway, grabbed one hand of each child, and hurried them across the hall toward their bedrooms.

Over her shoulder she said, “Why don’t you get those pancakes started?”

Eve sent the two washed and dressed children to the kitchen ahead of her, telling them to help their father set the table while she got dressed. When she
arrived in the kitchen ten minutes later, she found Connor dressed, the stove cold, the table not set, and both children sitting on stools at the breakfast bar with half-filled glasses of orange juice in front of them.

She stopped short. “What happened to breakfast?”

“I don’t have any food in the house,” Connor admitted sheepishly. “I didn’t count on having to cook. I figured the kids and I could eat at the Main Lodge with everyone else.”

Eve realized that was the sort of decision a man without a wife might make. But she was here now. There was nothing she could do this morning, but she was going to have a talk with Connor about how a family sat down to breakfast.

They put on jackets and took the short walk along a stone sidewalk to the Main Lodge, a log building where breakfast was being served to guests at the ranch. Connor held the door open as the two children skipped inside. Eve felt the heat of his hand when he laid it on the small of her back as they entered and walked more quickly to separate herself from his touch.

Distance
, she told herself.
Keep your distance
.

She was amazed at the bustle in the dining room. At least two dozen men, some dressed like cowhands, some wearing military desert camouflage, sat on benches on either side of long tables.

A Native American with dark, lively eyes and black braids, wearing a cook’s apron over a Pink concert T-shirt and a pair of jeans, was setting a large bowl of scrambled eggs on a table where a half dozen men sat with plates full of every imaginable breakfast
food. No wonder Connor had wanted to come here to eat.

A huge log burned in the river-rock fireplace, which stood as tall as a man’s shoulder, the chimney climbing all the way to the top of the cathedral ceiling. An enormous buffalo head, scruffy enough to have been there for seventy years, had been mounted above the fireplace, and a newer-looking buffalo hide lay on the stone floor in front of the flickering fire.

An exquisite Navajo rug hung from one log wall, while a Sioux war shirt made of buckskin and beads hung on another. The chandelier above them was made of moose antlers. A window the width of one wall revealed a breathtaking view of a vast evergreen forest that began in the valley and spread across a faraway ridge.

Eve supposed that what had been a place for tourists who wanted to experience a taste of the American West must seem like glamorous fare for a bunch of soldiers used to dining in a mess hall. She observed the smiles and easy camaraderie of the men eating breakfast—and then became aware of the prosthetic arms and legs and the burn scars. One of the vets smiled and held out his arms to Sawyer, who ran right up to him. The soldier lifted Sawyer far above his head, where the little boy gurgled with excitement.

“Good morning, Pete,” Connor said. “I see you’ve met my son, Sawyer.”

“Looks just like you,” Pete said as he handed the boy to Connor.

Eve heard the pride in Connor’s voice as he replied, “My wife always said so.”

Brooke hung back by Eve’s side, apparently shy
of so many strangers. Eve led her to a table where she saw two booster chairs, obviously intended for Connor’s kids, clamped to one of the benches. Two men were sitting on the opposite side of the table.

“Hello,” Eve said, smiling at the men to show Brooke there was nothing to be afraid of. “I’m Eve.” She lifted Brooke into one of the booster chairs as she added, “This is Connor’s daughter, Brooke.” She sat herself to the right of Brooke, leaving the space between the kids’ chairs for Connor.

One of the soldiers smiled back, the other kept his gaze on his food. “I’m Frank,” the smiling man said. He pointed with his fork at the other man. “This is Jeff. He doesn’t talk much.”

Jeff’s face had been ravaged by fire. Before Eve could reply, Connor arrived at the table with Sawyer in his arms. He put Sawyer in the empty booster chair and slid into the space between the two kids.

The woman who’d been doing the serving arrived at the table with silverware and plates. “I’m Maria Two Horses,” she said to Eve with a smile of welcome. “Connor’s probably already told you, it’s every man for himself.” She set down a stack of plates and a handful of silverware, then added, “Napkins and condiments are on the table.” Then she was gone again as someone at another table called for more eggs.

The same large variety of food that Eve had seen on the men’s plates sat in serving bowls and platters in the center of their table, including pancakes.

“Do you still want pancakes, Brooke?” she asked.

“Uh-huh,” Brooke said. “With lots and lots of syrup.”

Frank winked at Eve and said, “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

Eve shot a glance in Connor’s direction, but he was busy cutting Sawyer’s pancakes into bite-size pieces.

“Thank you,” she said, feeling an unwanted blush rise on her cheeks.

“Leave her alone,” Jeff said. “She’s Connor’s girl.”

“I’m not—”

“I was just paying the lady a compliment,” Frank said.

“And I said shut your mouth.”

Eve had grown up in a houseful of women, so she wasn’t sure whether those were “fighting words” or just a case of “guys being guys.” She glanced at Connor and saw he was calmly eating a forkful of eggs.

He swallowed his eggs and said, “She isn’t my girl, Jeff. She’s just a friend who’s here for a while to help me take care of my kids. Frank wasn’t trying to steal her away.”

Jeff rose, taking his plate and silverware with him. He nodded in Eve’s direction. “Sorry, ma’am.”

“You don’t have to leave,” she said as he headed away.

“Let him go,” Connor said. “He came home and found out his girl had left him for another guy. And that was before she saw his face.”

“Oh,” Eve said. So there were wounds, and there were
emotional
wounds. Maybe the rosy picture she’d seen when she’d entered the lodge wasn’t the whole story. She supposed there must be some reason that each of these men had decided to escape from the world for a little while.

Frank got up a moment later, touched the brim of his Stetson in acknowledgment, then picked up his plate and silverware. “Sorry for the ruckus, ma’am.”

“Eve,” she said.

He grinned with a great deal of charm. “Okay, Eve.” Before he left, he asked Connor, “Where do you want me today?”

“We’ll be moving a bunch of wild mustangs onto the south pasture later this afternoon. Why don’t you check the fence and make sure it’s not down anywhere?”

“Where did you come up with a herd of mustangs?” Frank asked.

“They’re mine,” Eve said.

Frank lifted a brow. “Are any broken to saddle?”

Eve shook her head. “Not yet.”

Frank turned to Connor. “Working with those mustangs might be a good project for the men.”

“That’s up to Eve. They’re her horses.”

Eve would have loved having the mustangs broken to saddle so they could be adopted out to good homes, but she was one person and there were twenty-two horses, some of which were still too young to be ridden. She’d never imagined having a bunch of veterans working with them, but it seemed like a good idea. Especially if they knew what they were doing, or at least were supervised by someone who knew what he was doing.

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