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He didn’t want her like that. The last time she’d thought he was about to kiss her, he’d walked out the door and disappeared for over twenty-four hours.

She didn’t want that to happen again.

Except at some stage, he was going to leave for good, and she’d never see him again. Because he didn’t belong to her and she wasn’t his. And she needed to stop thinking about him as being sexy and gorgeous, and wanting him to grab her and kiss her silly.

She had to stop wishing that he might secretly be a Daddy who would know how to bring out her Little, who would know how to make her feel safe enough that she could just sink into him and forget about being an adult for a while.

Yep, she had to stop thinking about that.

They both froze as they heard voices. Who was that? And then there was a loud knocking on the door, followed by the doorbell ringing.

Ammo pulled back and frowned. “Who the fuck is that?”

“I don’t know, just ignore it,” she said tiredly.

No way was she going to rush around getting dressed just so she could open the door to another guy with flowers or chocolate.

Nope, not happening.

The doorbell started ringing again, and Ammo let out a loud growl. “Stay here.”

He strode out of the bathroom.

She grumbled to herself as she got down off the counter. She needed to stop relying on him so much. It was time to start fighting her own battles.

Since she was only wearing a towel, perhaps she’d let him handle this one. Making sure the towel was wrapped around her, she peeked out of the bathroom door.

“Who are you?” a female voice asked. Who was that? She recognized the voice but couldn’t quite place it.

“Who are you?” Ammo replied.

“So rude. We’re here to check in on Aimee. She only just lost her husband. Yesterday was the funeral. So what are you doing here dressed in a pair of small shorts and nothing else?”

Uh-oh, now she knew who that was. It was the old biddy brigade. They weren’t actually called that. They had some other fancier name. Basically, they met once a week to “do good deeds.” That’s what one of them had told her once, but she was pretty certain that most of their time was spent gossiping about everyone in town.

They’d come to pay respects to her? She didn’t believe that at all.

“Where is she?” another woman asked. “And who are you?”

“She doesn’t want to see you.”

“How rude. We must insist on seeing her, or we’ll have to call the sheriff.”

Ugh, they’d do it too, because that would provide them with more gossip and things to complain about. Well, she was sick of being a topic of conversation in the households around Greasy Knob. It was time to start fighting back.

She strode toward the door and stepped to one side of Ammo.

“I’m right here. What can I do for you?”

All five women standing on her porch gasped and placed their hands on their chest. It would have been quite comical if she hadn’t suddenly realized that she was still dressed in a towel, while Ammo was wearing a tiny pair of shorts.

Edna Washington pointed right at her. “Slut!”

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“Fuck off,” Ammo said before he slammed the door in their faces.

Aimee stood there staring at the closed door. Her body was trembling, but she wasn’t sure if it was due to shock, cold, or the fact that some old biddy had just come to her house and called her a slut!