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want to be anywhere else. Because she wanted to feel. All these things that he and he alone had made her feel for all these years.

It was done. That was the beauty of it. The beauty of having made such a damn fool of herself already. There was no going back. There was nothing to protect.

The crushing reality was that James Maxfield might be her father. Or he might not be. But the one thing that mattered most was that Jackson wasn’t her brother.

Her long-held crush had no doubt been revealed by her earlier actions, but that was freedom in many ways. She had wanted him—she had wanted this—for so long, and there was no reason to not simply…take it now. None at all.

So she did. She drank deeply from his mouth like she was a dying woman and he was the source of life-giving water.

His whiskers were rough beneath her palms, where she grabbed hold of his face and stretched up as hard as she could, on her toes, kissing him with all the breath she had in her.

“What exactly do you want?” he said, large hands grabbing her hips and setting her back on the ground. “Because you’ve got to know, little Cricket, that you’re playing with fire here. I don’t want you to get burned.”

She scoffed. “I’m not afraid of fire.”

“You’re not?”

She tilted her face upward. “I’m not afraid of anything.”

“You’re trembling.”

“Yeah, that happens sometimes, when a woman is turned on, didn’t you know?” She spoke with a bravado she didn’t necessarily feel.

“You might have to educate me on the subject.”

“I’m not afraid of anything, do you know why? Because… I already can’t have the approval of my family. And you know, I was really scared of what it meant that I wanted you, suspecting what I did. I was really scared to look foolish, but you know what? I did. I do. So where is there to go from here? I guess I could fear for my own physical safety, but I don’t. Not when you hold me. I spent my whole life wanting things I couldn’t have. Wanting my parents to care about me in a way that they didn’t. Wanting to fit in a way that I couldn’t. Wanting to be part of a family that I wasn’t.” She felt like it was the better part of valor to maybe not mention that wanting him was part of what she’d been denied for all this time. She might not have a whole lot of pride, but she had a little, and she was going to protect it.

“I’m tired of that. No, I’m not afraid of this. I’m not afraid of you. I’m just afraid of living more of the same.”

“Marriage is not for me,” he said. “Just right up front. Relationships aren’t for me.”

“That’s real flattering, cowboy, but did I propose?”

“I’m just getting that out there, Cricket, because I can’t ignore the fact that you had a hell of a day, and from the sounds of things, a hell of a few weeks. On top of that, you are younger than me. And I just need to make sure that we are both completely aware of what this is.”

“I want you. I’m very tired of not having the things I want.”

“Seems fair.”

It was deeper than that. But it wasn’t really his business. She had a feeling, though, that Jackson Cooper was a mountain she had to climb if she was ever going to figure out what lay on the other side of him. On the other side of this. Because honestly, the weirdness of the last few months was all bound up in him, and before that, years of a crush that had quite overtaken her life.

So, there was no magical, mystical connection to the Cooper family.

But Jackson was still a thing. And that needed to be sorted out before she could be the new Cricket. This woman who was going to make a way apart from her family. This woman she wanted desperately to be. Needed to be.

He was so tall and strong and beautiful. And she had no idea what he was getting out of this. But that wasn’t her concern. Her concern was…her.

It didn’t matter what anybody else thought. Didn’t matter what anybody else wanted from her, what they thought of her. It didn’t matter what he thought. She had been dragged into Cash Cooper’s very own tasting room, and she had accused him of cheating on his wife. Had asked if he was her father. She had reached the height of humiliation. So she was all in on this, because there was nothing left to protect or destroy.

She was Cricket, reduced.

And she wanted to build herself back up again.

“I’m tired of talking,” she said.

Talking wasn’t her thing. She had spent so many years just off on her own, daydreaming about the life she might have someday. She had done more talking with him over the last week than she had ever done with anyone, really. She didn’t want to talk. She just wanted him.

“Suit yourself.”

That was how she found herself being lifted off the ground, his large hand on her ass, around her back, as he picked her up and kissed her, hard and deep. She could feel his body, firm and insistent against hers, evidence of his arousal. And it thrilled her. Thrilled her down to her soul. To know that he wanted her the same as she wanted him. To know that, of all the mistakes she’d made, and all the things she might have done wrong today, she hadn’t dampened his desire for her.

He did want her.

He did.

His kiss was wild now, far beyond anything she’d ever fantasized about. She’d done a lot of fantasizing about Jackson Cooper, but it had been gauzy, and it hadn’t been half so physical. She hadn’t really known about the heat of another person’s body pressed against hers, the rough feeling of his whiskers, the firmness of his mouth. That slick

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