Bare Essentials: Naughty, But Nice. Leslie Kelly

like a mermaid beneath the stars, her satiny skin glistening like a feast as she frolicked unselfconsciously. Her body—a mind-blowing study in curves and feminine delights—was perfection, and he’d seen every bit of it tonight. Rock-hard mauve nipples made for sucking. Rounded hips begging for his hands to grip tight. Long, tanned legs, and the treasure in between that had made his mouth water with hunger.

      Just the thought could bring him to his knees, so he stopped thinking.

      But he didn’t stop dreaming, not that night, and not the next.

      He did, however, a few days later, take his weekly phone call from his father, something he would have gladly skipped if he’d only put in Caller ID as he kept meaning to.

      “You feeling better?” Tag asked him, knowing his father had been suffering from rheumatory arthritis, and knowing the man would never admit it.

      “I’ll live, unfortunately. You keeping the streets clean of stupidity, son?”

      Tag let out a silent sigh and rubbed his temples. “What do you think?”

      “I think I shouldn’t have retired. Heard Cassie Tremaine Montgomery is back in town. The slut.”

      Tag went utterly still. “She left here right after high school. What was she, maybe seventeen? Don’t you think you’re being a little harsh?”

      “What do you know about it? You were at college when she left. Trust me. Keep your eye on her.”

      That didn’t seem to be a problem. What was a problem was the fact that he wanted to keep more than his eyes on her. He wanted his hands, his mouth and his body on her, as well.

      “What’s happening at work?” his father asked.

      “The usual,” Tag said. “Just a D.U.I. at the moment.”

      “Any ongoing cases?”

      “Nothing I can’t handle.”

      “Sure?”

      Tag counted to ten. “Positive.”

      “Okay, then. I’ve got to go.”

      “Sure. But in case you were wondering, I’m fine.”

      “I know you’re fine. If you weren’t I’d hear about it. It’s work I want to know about. You’d best be doing a good job, upholding our family name.”

      Or what? Tag wondered wearily. He’d swing his authority around like a belt? He rubbed his temples. “I’ll talk to you next week.”

      “You haven’t been out to see me.”

      Tag hadn’t, that was true. He hadn’t been able to take the hour or so of verbal abuse he’d no doubt have to sit through before being dismissed like a worthless underling.

      He bit his tongue on the harsh words he wanted to say. He wouldn’t act like his father. “I’ve got to go, Dad.” Hanging up the phone, he gave in to a brief moment of self-hatred for not telling his father to just go to hell.

      Pretty pathetic. Thirty-two years old and he still had a deep desire to have a picture-perfect family life with warm, loving people around him.

      Or one loving person. The one he hadn’t found yet—his fantasy wife. The thought made him huff out a mirthless laugh because he was no closer to finding her than he was to really living in Mayberry, U.S.A.

      * * *

      KATE ARRIVED, and Cassie had to admit she’d never been happier to see anyone in her entire life. Her cousin hadn’t changed at all; she was still the voice of calm reason to Cassie’s wild heart.

      Physically, they were opposites as well, and Cassie had always admired Kate’s long, thick dark hair, her perfect heart face, her sweet smile. Although she hated people thinking so, Kate was sweet everything, and being around her calmed Cassie’s restless soul in a way few others could.

      On Kate’s first night back in Pleasantville they stayed up late, sitting on the floor of the nearly ready Bare Essentials, gorging on pizza and M&M’s, going over the plans for their grand opening.

      Maybe it was the bottle of wine they shared, or maybe it was simply the sheer delight of seeing each other after too long an absence, but they laughed and talked and listened to music until well past midnight.

      Cassie had to give her cousin credit. Kate let Cassie keep the conversation safe. Meaning they talked about Kate. Bare Essentials. And gossiped happily about the people in Pleasantville.

      Then the clock struck one and Kate’s smile faded as she studied Cassie. “You know I love you, right?”

      Ah, hell. “Yep.” In case Kate wanted to talk serious, she cranked up the radio to ear-splitting level.

      Kate simply lifted that superior brow Cassie was certain had intimidated hundreds of others. “You could tell me anything,” she yelled over the music. “You know that.”

      “I’m fine.”

      “Yeah.” Kate put her hand around her mouth and shouted, “So fine you have purple bruises beneath your eyes.” She flicked the radio off. “Delicate ones, of course, because you’re the only woman I know who could skip makeup and eat junk food for a week and still look amazing. But I know you, Cassie.” She softened her voice and reached for her hand. “Whether you like it or not, I know you’re not okay.”

      “Kate—”

      “You haven’t asked for your mail.” She reached into her purse and came up with a handful of letters. All addressed to her. All from Pete. “You should be giving these to the local authorities.”

      “The authorities here know about him.” Deciding she was done with this conversation, Cassie stood and stretched, and caught sight of a car pulling up out front.

      Not just any car, but a police squad car. Damn it.

      She tucked Pete’s letters into her purse and turned with her hands on her hips as one tall, dark and sinfully fine-looking Sheriff Sean Taggart entered the building with a casual nonchalance that made her every hormone stand up and quiver.

      Take what you can, honey, and spit the rest back out. Cassie thought about what Flo would say and had to admit there wasn’t much to spit back out when it came to Tag.

      Not exactly a comfort.

      “Fancy you showing up out here,” she drawled slowly though her heart had started racing at just the sight of him. She hadn’t seen him since that night at the lake when he’d stripped down and showed her he was one pretty remarkable male specimen. When she’d accused him of only wanting sex. When she’d nearly succumbed to temptation and let herself lean on someone. Him.

      Kate’s head was swiveling as she looked back and forth between the two of them. “I take it you two know each other.”

      Tag just stared at Cassie, and she sighed. “Kate, meet Sheriff Sean Taggart. The man who single-handedly tripled my car insurance rates.”

      “Well, then.” Kate smiled and held out her hand. “Nice to meet the rare person who can get the best of my cousin.” When Tag nodded, then looked back at Cassie, unmistakable trouble in his gaze, Kate grabbed her purse. “Oka-a-ay. I’m thinking now is a good time to get some shut-eye.”

      “Kate—”

      “I have a feeling you’re in good hands,” she whispered, then hugged Cassie tight before she vanished.

      “You scared her off,” Cassie accused.

      “If she’s related to you, she’s no more scared of me than she would be of a kitten,” Tag said evenly.

      “Why are you here?”

      “Because of the five complaints logged about the volume of your music.”

      “I turned it down.” She turned her back. “I’ll behave now. You