by Cherrie Lynn
“Don’t think you’re the only one.” Silence fell between them for a moment, then he offered, “Macy used to give horse riding lessons to the girls after Shelly and I split up. I thought maybe we could rekindle things. Ghost beat me to it, though. He was already in the picture by the time I tried to make a move. I didn’t think it was serious between them, but I guess I didn’t stand a chance from the start.”
“It was weird. I don’t think anyone expected that. They’re like, the most unlikely couple in history.”
“Tell me about it.”
“I didn’t know it was still such a raw subject, though. I’m sorry. Just know that she’s taken care of, if it helps. He loves her.”
“I’m like you, I guess. It should help. I should be a good enough person that her happiness is all that matters, but I guess I’m not. Guess I always thought I should be the one making her happy.”
“Well, Jared Stanton, we’re a couple of peas in a pod of mutually understood misery, aren’t we?”
“Jesus. You’re right. I didn’t mean for things to go south in such a hurry.”
“I’m okay if you are. I’ve realized something important. If you figured out my feelings for Brian so fast, then I’ve got to work on hiding them more. The only thing that truly terrifies me is thinking that he might know.”
“Starla, do you really think he doesn’t?”
The question made her kill what was left of her beer. “I can only pray.”
Chapter Seven
The conversation out on the deck had cast a pall of melancholy over Starla’s heart. It was strange, though. She wasn’t so much horrified at Jared’s discovery of her dark little secret as she was relieved. It was nice to talk to someone. Bad enough that Janelle knew—someone who worked alongside Starla and Brian every day and (hopefully) had to keep her mouth shut. No one else on earth had known until tonight. Sometimes Starla had felt so pent-up with the emotions that she was afraid she might freak out and start hitting something. It was almost as if talking about it to someone else had released the pressure a bit. Allowed her to deflate. She felt lighter.
“I might need you around more,” she said as they moved back inside from the bite of the rapidly cooling night air. “I feel better after talking about it. Think I might be able to call you up nightly and dump all my problems on you?”
The smile he gave her was sweet, and, if she was honest with herself, it made her heart do a giddy little flip-flop. “Sure. If I can do the same.”
“Of course.”
She should probably leave. It was nearly eleven o’clock; she hadn’t planned on staying this long. For all she knew, he might be ready for her to go and was simply too nice to say it. His cues, however, said otherwise. Instead of leaving, she sat on the couch and wished desperately for a smoke.
“I like you, Starla,” he said, settling beside her. Not close enough to touch, but close enough to eradicate the distance between them in half a second if she gave the invitation.
“Likewise,” she said cautiously. I will not sleep with him. I will not sleep with him. Did she want to? Hell yeah, she did. Oddly enough, though…she didn’t want him to make the attempt. How fucked-up was that? But it had been so nice, just hanging out, talking, being real with each other. If sex came into it, it would be fucked. He would get what he wanted, and he would turn into an asshole like all the others. He would treat her like shit and only come around when he was horny, and she really, really didn’t think she could take it.
Except for the ticking of an antique grandfather clock across the room, all was quiet. Uncomfortably so. Jared bounced his denim-clad knee a few times. Starla played with the gauze wrapped around her finger. She was finally opening her mouth to break the torturous silence when he spoke.
“I’m not trying to be too forward or anything, but I’d like to see you again.”
“I’d like that too.” She stole a glance at his profile. Even without the beard, his virility would be enough to have her crossing her legs tight against the sweet ache between her thighs, but with the beard, he had her positively throbbing there. Just by sitting close to her. Wow.
“Maybe we got off on the wrong foot, saying a little too much too soon,” he said.
For her, it really was a strange way to start things. “On the other hand, it might be better to know each other’s baggage up front. You think? I’ve never done it that way before.”
“What do you mean?”
“Sharing all the hang-ups before going to bed with someone.”
Holy shit. She couldn’t believe she’d said it. Here he’d been talking about not being forward, and she’d bluntly addressed the elephant in the room. But if it made him uneasy, that was only further proof this wouldn’t go anywhere. She liked sex. She had a lot of it. She would like to have it with him someday, even if she’d vowed not to. Or maybe because she’d vowed not to. First she would have to clear her head a bit and ascertain for herself that he wouldn’t turn into an asshole once he’d been inside her.
For a long moment, he didn’t say anything, and she thought, Yep, that’s it, I’ve scared him off. “What, did I shock you?”
“No.” He shook his head and smoothed a hand down his mouth and chin. Ooh. She’d like to do that herself. Feel that beard rasp her fingers. Her lips. “No, you didn’t shock me.”
He must be made of hardier stuff than she thought. He’d been with Macy, after all, and any girl who could hang with Ghost was probably a bit of a freak in the sheets.
Eww. Why had she thought of that? It seemed practically incestuous. Talk about only a few degrees of separation.
What would Macy think of it? Crap. That hadn’t occurred to her. Just because Macy didn’t want Jared anymore didn’t mean she wanted someone she came into contact with on a regular basis banging him.
Ah, dammit, she was getting way ahead of herself here. But it was a little fun. Exciting. This was how she got into trouble all the time. She craved excitement, thrived on it. Seducing this sweetheart of a guy would be a shot of adrenaline in her veins, but what would happen when the rush faded?
Crash and burn.
“I should go,” she told him. They’d covered enough ground tonight.
Jared looked as if that wasn’t what he’d expected her to say. He gave a slow nod, gaze flickering to the front door.
God, he was gorgeous. Okay. He surpassed cute, or hot…he was fucking beautiful. Beautiful enough that she questioned the sanity of anyone who’d left him or didn’t want him. Those incredible blue eyes almost did him a disservice by distracting from the handsomeness of his features. Her fingers itched to sink into the soft thickness of his hair. Her fingers and her lips weren’t the only places she could imagine feeling the tickle of that beard. Oh Jesus, those other places ached. If not for the events of the other night unnerving the hell out of her, and the two little girls dreaming down the hall, she might have straddled him right here on his couch, consequences be damned.
“Are you okay to drive?”
So concerned. Too fucking nice. She might have to tell him to be rough. Pull her hair. Bite her, suck her skin until it hurt, until it bruised. Would he? She might scare a down-home good ol’ boy like him.
“I’m fine,” she told him, amazed at how calm her voice sounded when she was burning up inside.
“I’ll walk you out, then, if you want.”
Starla practically scrambled to her feet. Anything to get moving before she did something she regretted. If she reached that door before she got fucked, then she could consider it a victory: she’d made herself a promise and she’d stuck to it. For once in her damn life.
It simply wasn’t worth it anymore, she thought as Jared walked with her outside and to her car. All the heartache, all the drama, the fighting, the pain, the worry. It wasn’t worth it. Relationships, even meaningless hookups, had caused her nothing but turmoil one way or another. And for what? To get off every once in a while? She could accomplish that much on her own, and usually with way more prowe
ss than anyone else could show her. Why fucking bother, then?
A fat moon had just cleared the tops of the pine trees as Jared opened her car door, thanking her for dinner and once again praising her skills. That much, at least, felt good. Nice to be appreciated. After tossing her purse inside her car and straightening to say a final good-night, she frowned as a blast of distant heavy metal reached them, no doubt coming from Swat’s place next door. Groaning, Jared glanced over his shoulder, and even though the only light was from the moon overhead and the porch light, she could see the tension that suddenly stiffened his body.
“Jesus,” she muttered, surprised at the volume and clarity. “I didn’t realize.”
“Yeah.” His voice was gruff, short. “Especially when the wind is just right—it’s almost like the trees channel it right through.”
“Well…it’s Bring Me the Horizon,” she said lightly, recognizing the riff of “Happy Song.” “Could be worse.”
“I’d like to bring them an ass whooping.”
She could imagine Jared out back with his girls, feeding animals to the sounds of mayhem, probably hoping Ashley and Mia wouldn’t catch an f-bomb or twenty. And to think he knew that she sometimes hung out over there. “I’m sorry,” she said, sighing. “Have you ever asked them to keep it down?”
“Yep. For all the good it did.”
“I can say something next time I’m over there. Of course, now that Max and I are off, I probably won’t be there that much. I wouldn’t want to run into him.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said, shaking his head. “And definitely don’t risk going around him.”
“It’s definitely not my plan to.”
They lapsed into silence. Somehow, coming over and hanging out with him all night hadn’t seemed adequate reward for what he’d done for her, dinner notwithstanding. But she didn’t owe him anything, and he hadn’t asked her for anything. Nothing could explain the images that inundated her mind right then—of her grabbing him and laying one on him—except the sheer desire to do so. She was grateful, sure. She was appreciative, oh yes. But she also wanted to know what he tasted like, if his lips were soft or firm, if his hands would sensuously roam her body or hold her to him while his mouth played over hers. Just the thought of being pressed against that hard chest made her nipples tighten. She could pretend it was the light chill in the air, but it wasn’t. No way.
Not. Worth. It. Her brain repeated the mantra to her over and over. Pre-Max Starla would’ve ignored her brain. Post-Max Starla edged closer to her car and forced words past the desire slowly uncoiling through her belly. “Well. I’ll be seeing you?”
He grinned, the white of his teeth a glint in the darkness. “I really do hope so.”
And with that, she got the hint. He’d said the right words about wanting to see her again, but he wasn’t exactly falling over himself to set a second date just yet. She’d blown it by being presumptuous about sleeping with him. Her damn fucking mouth. Disappointment and relief mingled as desire waned, and she knew—she knew—it was for the best. But dammit, it didn’t have to sting so much. Absently tapping her open palm on the top of her car door a couple of times, she breathed a hasty “Okay,” and retreated to the safe, dark interior. But before anything else could happen, Jared reached in and caught her hand, bringing the back of it to his warm lips.
Firm. Oh God, firm. Strong. If she’d been standing, her knees might have buckled. The brief touch was there and gone almost before she knew it, leaving her skin tingling. She almost snatched that hand to her chest and put her other hand over it, like a dumbass, and God only knew what her face looked like as she gazed up at him. “Chivalry,” she choked out in a failed attempt to be cute and flirtatious. “I like it.”
He smiled again. “Good night, Starla. You know where I am if you need me.” She nodded mutely. He shut her door.
Wow. Fucking wow. Okay, maybe it would be worth it. Maybe she should jump out of her car and jump his bones. But no, the kids, the kids. He would shoot her down whether he wanted her or not. She couldn’t get all worked up when there wouldn’t be any payoff.
Oh hell, you idiot, she scolded herself as she drove down his driveway, noticing in her rearview that Jared stood on his front porch, watching her leave. The porch light cast him in silhouette, accentuating broad shoulders and narrow hips and…unf. Thighs. She loved powerful thighs on a man. Something to sink her fingernails into while she sucked him deep…
It’s not like he can’t have sex because he has kids. People with kids have sex all the time. How else would they end up with more kids?
But she’d done it; she’d accomplished her mission. She’d had dinner with someone she was powerfully attracted to and hadn’t jumped vagina first into anything. She should be celebrating her victory. She should be feeling good about herself.
So why, then, did it feel like such a loss?
***
“It could be the start of something wonderful,” Janelle said cheerfully the next day as she and Starla poured themselves coffee in the break room.
Starla shook her head. “I doubt that.” She didn’t want to elaborate. Jared obviously still carried a torch for Macy, but that wasn’t Starla’s secret to share. She had to work with Janelle, and they both had to work with Ghost, and Ghost had to live with Macy. It was all a little too close for comfort, and she didn’t need to be the cause of strife among her friends. “Maybe it could be wonderful, but I’m pretty sure it would be very much temporary. I’m getting a little sick of temporary.” Sighing, she stirred creamer into her coffee. “It’s scary out there, Jan.”
“You think I don’t know that? That’s why I don’t go out there.” Janelle grinned. “As long as I have a full pack of batteries, I’m good to go.”
“You know, I had almost that exact same thought last night. Like, what’s the point of all this? Why do I bother?”
Jan nodded knowingly. “B.O.B. doesn’t argue, B.O.B. doesn’t turn into a drunken asshole, B.O.B. asks no questions, B.O.B. doesn’t come first.”
Chuckling, Starla tried not to think about the workout she’d given her own personal B.O.B. last night after she’d gotten home from Jared’s. The problem was blatantly apparent. B.O.B lacked a hot, hard, sweaty male body, B.O.B. didn’t have callused fingers to touch and tease her with, B.O.B. didn’t whisper dirty things in her ear. A vibrator didn’t make her feel safe, and it certainly didn’t tenderly doctor her bloody finger.
She’d lain in bed after reaching a silent and wrenching climax, panting softly, trembling, staring at the ceiling as her fantasy Jared disappeared from above her. God, that would’ve been ten times more powerful with him. With those blue eyes looking down on her as she came. With the rhythm and technique that he alone would possess. With no one in the next room who might hear, because she didn’t want to bite her lip and lock down tight on all that energy zinging through her. She wanted to let it out. Let it rip. Dammit, she had a lot to release.
“You’re turning red,” Janelle said merrily, turning to carry her coffee up front. “Compose yourself, woman.”
“When the fuck have I ever been composed?”
Starla ran errands during a lapse between appointments that afternoon, taking time to replace her ruined phone—she should make Max fucking pay for it, but that wasn’t a fight she was willing to have now or ever—and doing some shopping for the house. Cooking last night had put her in the mood. She was tired of living on sushi and pizza and burgers, and her scales and clothes hadn’t been very forgiving of late.
Jared’s kitchen had been a dream to cook in. Her cramped little kitchen left her barely enough room to turn around, with scant counter space, no pantry, and only a few cabinets, not to mention a temperamental oven that seemed to have two settings: cold and burnt. It had done fairly well on the cookies yesterday, though.
No more cookies. She had to do better, maybe start putting that gym membership to use. Also, it would have been nice to be able to kick Max’s ass if he’d tried to
hassle her anymore, so maybe a self-defense class wouldn’t be unheard of. Macy was slender as a reed but, to hear Ghost tell it, as strong as an ox, and obviously Jared was attracted to that sort—
Okay. She damn sure didn’t need to go down that road. But a girl like Macy could’ve definitely kicked Max’s ass. Starla couldn’t imagine Macy letting anyone speak to her that way.
No, the difference was that Macy wouldn’t associate with the sort who would dare try to speak to her or treat her that way. While Starla kept taking it and running back for more.
First step was identifying the problem. Okay. She’d done that. Now to do something about it.
Overall, Starla was feeling positive about her life decisions until precisely nine thirty that night while she was cleaning up after a walk-in. Her new phone lit with an incoming text message. There was no sense in getting all excited thinking it might be Jared—despite spending Sunday evening with him, she’d still never given him her cell number, and even if she’d swiped his from Janelle’s incoming call list as soon as she’d had a chance, it wasn’t likely that he’d been able to track hers down. Unless he’d called Janelle himself to get it and she just hadn’t mentioned it. Yeah, right.
Still, it would be nice to think he would put forth that kind of effort for her.
No such luck. In fact, worst luck ever. The message was from Max.
Where u been, pretty?
Like nothing had ever happened. He’d probably gotten so drunk, he didn’t remember the night at all. Mouth set in a tight line, she hit reply to let him fucking have it. But no…she should ignore him. Block him. Erase him from her life completely. Tossing the new phone in her purse, she began furiously wiping down her counter.
“Whoa, there.” Ghost laughed from across the room. “You’re gonna rub a hole in it.”
“I’ll rub a hole in your face,” she grumbled, scrubbing harder, though it was Max’s face she imagined.
Ghost and Janelle laughed, but Starla could feel the weight of Jan’s eyes on her even after the conversation turned to other things. After a few minutes, Jan wandered over and whispered, “Do not answer him.”
