Part time cowboy, p.18

Part Time Cowboy, page 18

 

Part Time Cowboy
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  “You said that I ran from things. And that I was on my high horse. And that the work that I do is worthless. And you’re going to stand by all of that being true?”

  “That’s not exactly what I said.”

  “It’s pretty much what you said.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. And he was feeling pretty sorry for most everything that had happened since Sadie had come to town. He’d screwed up with her. Way more times than he wanted to count. And now she was standing here calling him on it. All of it.

  She huffed out a growl. “You’re just saying it now.”

  “So?”

  “So it doesn’t mean anything now.”

  “I give up, Sadie,” he said, turning away from her and walking back in the direction of the crosswalk.

  “Wait,” she said.

  He stopped. “What?”

  “Don’t leave. I’m mad at you. And I feel like we haven’t resolved anything.”

  “Do we need to?”

  “I’d like to.”

  He turned to face her again. “Okay, what is it you want resolved?”

  “I was wondering something.”

  “What?”

  “Do you want to keep having sex?”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  SADIE COULD HAVE immediately bitten her own tongue off. Where the heck had that come from? Oh, okay, she knew where it had come from.

  Sleepless nights, endless erotic dreams about his strong body, his hands, his lips, his…well, his everything. She couldn’t forget him. Couldn’t forget how amazing it was to be with him. How much she wanted him.

  She was so annoyed with herself, too.

  She didn’t do the physical obsession thing. She just didn’t. And here she was basically burning up her sheets alone, waking up all sweaty and tangled up in the bedding like a dolphin in a tuna net.

  On the verge of orgasm and with no desire to finish the job herself. And now this. This had come out of her mouth. On a public street, during a lovely sunny day. With children most likely playing at a nearby park.

  Eli had been walking away, she’d looked at his butt, a butt that was so perfect and masculine and muscular and begging for her to touch it, and the words had just fallen out of her mouth.

  He was just standing there, his expression stone, his lips pressed into a firm line.

  Now she was filled with regret. Swollen with it. And she was still holding a staple gun.

  It was a weird moment. There was no denying it.

  “What did you say?” he asked.

  “Oh, you know what I said. Why do people do that? Ask you to repeat something they heard but was totally crazy. Do you think I actually want to repeat that?”

  “I have to be sure you said it,” he said. “Because honestly? My mind could be playing tricks on me. It’s entirely possible.”

  “Yeah, I said it.”

  “Then I have to be sure you meant it.”

  He was frozen, every line in his body hard and firm, on high alert. Was he interested? All of his talk about how crazy it was—and it was—and the way he’d stormed out after… But maybe it was just because it was all making him feel as insane as she did.

  Maybe it was because he wanted it but didn’t want to want it.

  Well, he could join the club.

  He just kept staring at her, waiting for her answer. And dammit, she didn’t know the answer. She wanted it, yes, but was she willing to engage in a purely sexual, no-strings fling with a man who made her want to pull her hair out?

  “Yes.” Apparently she was. “I meant it.”

  She could see his hard swallow, his teeth grinding as his jaw shifted. And she hoped, a good portion of her really hoped, that he would say no. That he would make her angry. Walk away again and say something insulting on his way down the street that would be so vile all the lust she felt for him would be knocked out of her system.

  “Okay,” he said. “But I need rules.”

  “I…” She couldn’t believe he’d agreed. She’d been counting on him to be the voice of reason. That was what he did, who he was, except for that time against the wall. And she’d been counting on him to make the smart choices here, since she was very obviously not going to do it. “What kind of rules?” she asked.

  If he couldn’t be the voice of reason, maybe, just maybe, there was still time for him to piss her off so she’d change her mind.

  He looked to each side and then walked toward her, apparently satisfied that there were no prying eyes. “Just sex,” he said.

  “Yeah, that’s what I said.”

  “And no one knows about it.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Well, obviously. I’m not going to print it in the paper. Or march over to your brother’s place like, ‘Hey! Been banging Eli. Here’s your rent.’”

  “I’m serious. I don’t like complications. This is more complicated than I like it already, so it needs to stay clean.”

  “You don’t strike me as a player.”

  “I’m not.”

  “But these are player rules.”

  “They’re the rules of a man who generally doesn’t date women who live within walking distance of his house. Or even the same town. Or really…a man who doesn’t date much at all. But I’m still not a player. I’m just a guy who has too much to do. I don’t want a wife, kids or exes all over where I have to patrol every day, so that means I do the best I can to keep things separate.”

  She hadn’t really thought of it like that. Eli moved around town, around the whole area, all the time. Talked to random people, responded to calls. Having exes right in town had the potential to be a mess. She tended to move states away from hers, and she was never all that attached to any of them, so it wouldn’t have much mattered anyway.

  “Okay,” she said. “And ultimately it doesn’t really matter to me one way or the other. I like it casual, and no, I don’t normally go in for sex only. In fact, I never do. But my relationships have all been very…nonserious.”

  “I just don’t want you to get hurt,” he said.

  “Pfft. Eli, I’ve yet to fall in love with any man who touched me. Good in bed or not. Even if the guy is prone to giving me flowers and taking me out, I tend to remain fairly distant. It’s hardly going to change with you. Remember? I don’t even like you. I just want your body. And that means that this will be the best sex-only relationship ever. Plus, we live close. Late-night booty calls will be a breeze and there will be no temptation at all to develop finer feelings.”

  He lifted his coffee cup and took a drink. “Okay, I have to get back to work. Then I have to bring Connor food to ensure he does more than ingest alcohol today.”

  “Sure,” she said, feeling a little like shrieking or scurrying in circles or something. Not with joy or anything, but with…panic, excitement and a pulse of adrenaline that seemed more appropriate for scaling a mountain than propositioning a guy for no-strings sex.

  “I’ll see you after.”

  “My place?” she asked, her throat dry.

  “Probably for the best.”

  “Bring condoms,” she said, looking around, suddenly concerned people might have started milling around since Eli last looked. “I am lacking, currently. And that would be a shame.”

  He nodded. “I’ll come prepared.” The black radio on his shoulder buzzed and he put his hand up over the top of it. “I have to go. See you tonight. Good luck with the posters.”

  Then he turned and walked away. Like some badass action movie star with a surprisingly poor exit line.

  Oh, dear Lord, what had she done?

  She bent and picked up her stack of posters again, holding them to her chest, the staple gun braced against the back of them.

  There was no reason to panic. None at all. She’d propositioned Eli Garrett. And he’d said yes. They were going to have a no-strings fling that would result in many orgasms for both of them.

  Putting it like that, it didn’t seem like a big deal at all.

  No, it sounded awesome.

  A slow grin spread across her face and she turned and started walking down the sidewalk, beneath the covered walkway that ran along the row of little shops.

  She paused at the next bulletin board, her heart beating fast, excitement building now.

  Things had just gotten a whole lot more interesting.

  * * *

  “DAMMIT, ELI. THERE’S mustard on this.”

  “What?” Eli looked at his brother for a full ten seconds before he processed what he was saying.

  “My burger. There’s mustard. You know I don’t like mustard.”

  “Sorry,” he said, taking a French fry out of his carton and eating it, looking across the kitchen counter at his brother, who was looking grumpier than normal.

  “How the hell do you forget something like that?”

  Oh, good, Connor was hell-bent on being an ass. This would be fun.

  “I just did,” Eli said.

  Because his mind was on Sadie. Because his brother could starve for all he cared, except he couldn’t really let that happen.

  So he was here, pretending like he was invested in the meal he’d brought in for the two of them, listening to Connor bitch about condiments.

  “Ace knows I don’t like mustard,” Connor said, glaring and getting up from his seat, going to the counter to get paper towels and a knife.

  “He didn’t ask if the burger was for you.”

  “Who else would it have been for?”

  Fair question. “Kate. She likes mustard.”

  “And you remember that, apparently,” he said.

  “Shut up, Connor,” Eli said, watching him flick the bulk of the mustard off the top bun with a knife before wiping it, seriously wiping it, with the paper towel, then scraping it thoroughly with the knife.

  “You don’t normally forget.”

  “If you want a flawless hamburger order, have Liss do it, since she actually likes taking care of you. Or better yet, why don’t you go and order your own damn food.”

  Connor took a bite of the hamburger. “Because you do it for me,” he said.

  “I should stop,” he said, putting another fry in his mouth.

  He heard footsteps in the doorway and for a moment, his heart leaped up into his throat, his body tensing as he wondered if it was Sadie with a disaster of some kind, or…Sadie for any reason, really.

  But it was Liss, speaking of, walking around the corner, holding a big white box. “Pie,” she said, smiling.

  Connor looked at Eli. “See, I bet she got it without mustard.”

  “If you put that pie down in front of me I’m going to squirt mustard all over it, Liss,” Eli told her.

  “Connor doesn’t like mustard,” she said, setting it down on the counter.

  “Yes. We know.”

  She dropped her purse onto the counter and her keys with it, sighing heavily. “Is there anything for me?” she asked, turning and facing the fridge, jerking the door open.

  Liss had a tendency to act like she lived here, which didn’t seem to bother Connor at all. But then, Liss had been a fixture during his marriage, since she’d been close to him and Jessie both. “Dear Lord, Connor, you need to go grocery shopping.”

  “Still?” Eli asked. “I told him to go two weeks ago.”

  “I did. I went out to fill up my truck and stopped and bought beanie weenies and beer.”

  Liss gave him the evil eye. “That doesn’t count.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’m eating your fries.”

  “That’s healthy.”

  “Fries before pies,” she said, reaching over and snagging a handful of them out of the container.

  And now that Liss was here, and would probably manage to keep Connor from drinking himself into a coma before bed, it was time for Eli to leave.

  “I’m going to take off,” Eli said, standing, shoving another French fry in his mouth and pushing the carton forward.

  “Are you going to finish your burger?” Liss asked.

  “No.”

  She reached out and pulled the carton over to another stool and sat down. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Where are you taking off to?” Connor asked.

  “Tired,” he said, lying his ass off.

  Connor gave him some serious side eye. “Okay. If, say, I were to send our younger sister to your house on a random errand in about an hour she wouldn’t be emotionally scarred by activities conducted with female visitors, would she?”

  No, because he wouldn’t be at his house.

  “No, but she’ll wake me up and I’d be forced to come over here and shove your head in a toilet.”

  Connor smiled. “Interesting. Well, fine, I won’t send her over. And I won’t bug you.”

  Eli grunted and walked out of the house, feeling very much like he’d already been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. But he didn’t care. He was going to go eat his damn cookies anyway.

  * * *

  SADIE WAS A BALL of nervous energy. Adrenaline pumping through her veins, heat pooling in her stomach, arousal throbbing between her legs.

  She was expecting him soon. And she’d been waiting all day. No, she’d been waiting for this all week. This was what she wanted, and now that she was finally embracing it she was free to appreciate how much she truly craved him.

  She wanted more than against the wall. She wanted him naked. All the way naked. In bed. For hours. Subject to her exploration and any twisted desires she might have. She didn’t usually have desires she’d consider twisted, but she hadn’t ruled anything out with Eli.

  Because he made her feel like a giant ball of want. Like a ticking time bomb of need that was ready to explode all over her living room—which was currently spotless, because after she’d done any and all planning she could do for the barbecue alone, and after she’d ordered bedding online for all of the bedrooms in the house, she’d had nothing better to do but clean.

  You know. The floor, the wall, the kitchen counter. Just in case he wanted to bang her on unconventional surfaces. She did not need a nasty kernel of cat food right by her head while Eli was trying to satisfy her on the living room rug.

  “Oh…cat,” she said aloud.

  Toby might not allow for sexual spontaneity.

  He was currently sprawled over the blue armchair in the living room, looking like the tragic victim of a train collision, his paws out straight, head cocked back and to the side, his back legs up and spread.

  “You’re a sophisticated beast, Toby.”

  He didn’t move. But of course, it was because it didn’t suit him to move. If Eli started making out with her on the couch Toby would probably wake up and decide the only place in the world he wanted to be was on Eli’s lap.

  And she wasn’t going to go locking him in the bathroom or anything just so she could have a good time in the room of her choice. The thing with Eli was physical. Toby, though he couldn’t speak actual words, was her friend. Who had stuck with her through it all, mainly because his other choice was a life on the streets as a mouser and he wouldn’t engage in anything so gauche.

  Either way, she wasn’t prioritizing her hookup over her cat’s comfort.

  Besides, she was having soft, luxurious bed fantasies. And that was better anyway.

  The heavy knock on her front door had her scrambling toward the entryway, her heart bouncing around in her chest like a rubber ball that had been thrown at a wall as hard as possible.

  She stopped for a second and looked down at the scoop-neck dress she was wearing. Then she leaned forward, reached down the front of the dress and cupped her breast, tugging it up in her bra before doing the same to the other one.

  She took a breath and examined her improved cleavage. “Okay. We’re good. We can do this.”

  She shook her head, her hair falling over her shoulders, then walked to the door, grabbing the handle and opening it.

  “Hi,” she said, going for casual.

  “Can we not do the talking thing?” he asked. “You just get mad at me when we talk.” He shifted, the bag he was holding rustling with the motion.

  “I’m okay with that.”

  He walked into the house without waiting for her to invite him in, his presence dominating the entryway, filling it. He was a solid wall of man, and now that she’d been naked with him, she knew just how solid.

  Knew how his skin felt beneath her hands, how his lips felt on hers, how his stubble felt against soft skin.

  And she didn’t want to talk, either.

  “I want you naked,” he said. “Now.”

  “Should we go into the bedroom…?”

  “No,” he said, slamming the door shut, shrugging off his jacket and hanging it on the peg.

  That made her smile, because even in his dark intensity he couldn’t bring himself to make a mess. Even now, he was still conscious of order.

  But that was okay, because it was part of what made him him.

  And no matter what she said about not liking him, she had to like him at least a little bit, or any male body would do. There was something special about this male body that went past muscles and body hair and…well…generous physical attributes down below the belt.

  And that was the soul that was in the body.

  The thought made her chest feel tight. Made it hard to breathe. But then, that could just be because he was looking at her like a starving man might eye a piece of very chocolaty cake.

  She took a breath, banished the nerves and made eye contact with him as she reached around behind her back and tugged the zipper on her dress down.

  She folded her shoulders in slightly and let it fall to the floor, left herself standing there in nothing but a lacy black bra and matching panties.

 

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