Free Between the Sheets by Molly O'Keefe

Perfectly straight. He wondered what she would do if he pushed all those files to the floor and laid her out on that table. Pulled down those yoga pants and fucked her with his tongue, his fingers.
    Messy and hot and wild.
    “Wyatt?”
    “Hmmm?” He jerked himself away from the porn running in his head. Stoic and silent, she blinked at him, and his filthy thoughts shamed him, utterly shamed him. She was lovely and smart and kind and … serious. The opposite of every single woman he’d ever dated or fucked or looked twice at. He pulled the reins on his thoughts, his animal lust.
    “Does Casey have any friends?”
    “Not that I know of. Not that he talks about.” He’d been so worried about school and houses and counseling and court dates and starting fresh he didn’t think about friends. Another check under the total fail column.
    “Does he like sports or anything?”
    Ty shifted again in the chair. His butt was now totally numb, which combined with the semi hard-on was a deeply uncomfortable feeling. “I … I don’t really know.”
    “Well, I run some after-school and evening classes here for all different ages and there are a few of his classmates that come. Most of the other kids go to his school, too, so there would be some familiar faces.”
    “You’re talking about art classes?”
    She nodded. “If you’re interested.”
    “Yes.” God, yes . “Sign him up. When is it?”
    There were plenty of women who were prettier when they smiled. His last girlfriend … Christ, a year ago? She’d had a smile that loosened his knees. Shelby didn’t just get prettier … she changed. Her face, her whole vibe; it was as if a door opened and he got to see inside for just a second.
    And inside, Shelby Monroe was radiant.
    “Well, there’s one tomorrow after school.”
    “He’ll be here. What’s the cost?”
    “Let’s see if he likes it first,” she said and stood up. He was being dismissed, and that was okay. He stood up, too, blood flow returning to his ass with a hot rush.
    “I don’t know what to say.” It was unusual for him to be at a loss. Casey got his mouth from him and there was no such thing as speechless for either of them. “The way we started out, I never would have expected you to stick out your neck for us this way.”
    “It’s a small town, Wyatt.”
    “Please, call me Ty. My grandfather was Wyatt. It’s weird to hear that name.” Sad, was what it was.
    “Okay. Ty, it’s a small town. Sooner or later we’re all sticking our necks out for each other.”
    He shrugged into his coat and Shelby picked up her folders.
    “You’re working with Brody Baxter?” she asked.
    “Yeah. We’re working on Cora’s back deck, plus doing some stuff for The Pour House.”
    “That’s gotta be dangerous,” she said. “Spending your day at Cora’s.”
    Ty laughed, tucking the cards in his back pocket. “It’s torture when she makes those fritters.”
    “I have to walk on the other side of the street when she makes them. I usually go in on Sunday mornings with my mom.”
    It wasn’t surprising she had a mom; everyone did. But it struck him that he’d told her so much about himself and he knew nothing about her. It was awkward, as if she was fully dressed in a snowsuit and he was totally naked.
    He had never let a person like Shelby into his life, never wanted someone like her in his life before. His past was littered with drama queens and women of a certain what you see is what you get, asshole mentality. It wasn’t just the obvious good girl, bad girl nonsense,though she was very clearly a good girl. It was the containment of her; she was a universe unto herself. A mystery.
    “You want to go out for dinner?” he asked.
    “Dinner?”
    He nodded, very aware that as much as he liked the idea of a woman like her in his life, she probably had zero interest in stepping any further into his chaos. He had an image of him and Casey clinging to her boots like mud as she tried to figure