Free Restless Spirit by Sommer Marsden

know?’
    ‘I don’t know. You said you’re new. Do you know everyone?’
    ‘I’m getting there. I’ve only been here a little over a year.’
    ‘And you’re new?’ I laughed.
    ‘At Allister Lake if you’ve been here under a decade, you’re new.’
    ‘Well hell, I’m not new then. I’m freshly minted.’
    He inclined his head and smiled. ‘Now you get it.’
    The ice shifted and I moved to grab it, wincing with the effort.
    ‘How about some pain reliever to go with your tea. Get the swelling handled before it even sets in.’
    ‘Sound like a plan.’ I sighed.
    Then he was placing two white pills in my hand. ‘You’re good at changing the subject. So, was it anyone I know?’
    ‘Do you know Shepherd Moore?’
    His face went sombre and those pretty feline eyes narrowed.
    I snorted, and shook the pills like dice. ‘That face says yes. And that you don’t like him.’
    ‘Why would I like anyone I consider competition?’
    A tremor ran through me and I did my best not to let him see the effect his words had on me. I mentally calculated: Adrian, Shepherd and now Reed. That was an equation that clearly equalled juggling too many men. I knew I didn’t want to get bogged down or any of that stuff, but wasn’t that a bit extreme.
    And yet when he bent to reposition the migrating ice pack and his fingers brushed my bare skin again, I wanted to know more about him. And more about what his hands felt like on me. Possibly something higher than my ankle.
    ‘Competition?’
    He leaned in so we were face to face. His long fingers that reminded me of a pianist travelled my cheekbones so that my lips tingled as if he’d kissed me. I wished he would kiss me.
    ‘Every sighted, able bodied man in Allister Lake is competition to me right now.’
    ‘Oh yeah?’ I shifted in his oversized kitchen chair and it had nothing to do with my ankle or pain.
    My cunt was thumping as hard as my heart and the heart rate was due to Reed not the run. He was handsome and funny and kind. He was so fucking close and he smelled so freaking good. Sandalwood, roaring fire, snow. That’s what he smelled like. I wanted to suck as much of that scent into my body as I could.
    ‘Yeah.’ His lips were soft and his mouth tasted of peppermint.
    I let him kiss me gently for a moment and then when he leaned in further and tugged my braid, I parted my lips and let him slip his tongue inside. When he thrust it over my own, I gently sucked the length of his tongue the way I would a cock.
    ‘My, my. I was right about you.’ He whispered it against the slope of my throat and goosebumps spiked along my skin. My nipples went almost painfully taut in my sports bra.
    ‘You were?’
    The tea kettle started to scream and he straightened up to turn it off. ‘Yes. I want you just as much as I thought I did.’
    ‘You’re Max Torrent, TV’s favourite undercover son. You could have any girl in Allister Lake.’
    There was a petulance in my voice I didn’t like. Why was I doubting he’d want me? Just what the fuck was wrong with me? Nothing. My flaws existed only in my head and were spurred on by the phantom voice of boyfriends past. Phil.
    I shook it off and watched him prepare the tea. ‘I don’t want any girl at Allister Lake. I want Tuesday Cane, newest citizen in our fair little fucked up town.’
    ‘So why don’t you like Shepherd?’ I asked, changing the subject.
    He set my tea in front of me and sat in the opposite chair. ‘More like Shepherd doesn’t like me.’
    ‘Why not?’
    He shrugged. ‘You’d have to ask him.’
    I sighed. Men. So fucking tight lipped.
    We chatted about TV life versus lake life. What it had been like to play the son of a super spy and how it was to be a child star and beyond. He wrapped my ankle in a bandage and joked about boy scout training. He plied me with two pounds of fresh berries and then he drove me home in his antique Chevy truck.
    ‘Sure I can’t walk you up?’ he asked, putting the truck in