Things Good Girls Don't Do

by Gary, Codi

  Things Good

  Girls Don’t Do

  CODI GARY

  Dedication

  For my mom.

  My rock. My cheerleader. My conscience.

  I love you.

  Contents

  * * *

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Epilogue

  An Excerpt from “The Trouble with Sexy”

  About the Author

  By Codi Gary

  An Excerpt from Less Than a Gentleman by Kerrelyn Sparks

  An Excerpt from When I Find You by Dixie Lee Brown

  An Excerpt from Playing the Field by Jennifer Seasons

  An Excerpt from How to Marry a Highlander by Katharine Ashe

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  Chapter One

  * * *

  IT’S IMPORTANT TO always be a nice girl, Katie. Otherwise, people won’t want to let their kids play with you.

  Katie tried to remember her mother’s childhood advice while organizing the Rock Canyon Independence Day Extravaganza, the annual parade, fair, and fireworks show celebrating the Fourth of July. The only drawback was that she had to work with Mrs. Marcie Andrews. And Mrs. Andrews was trying her patience in a big way.

  “I just don’t understand why the tattoo booth is set up next to the kissing booth. Those drill noises are going to be distracting.”

  Katie took a breath. Sometimes Mrs. Andrews acted like she was in her eighties instead of her early fifties. She was a dairy farmer’s wife, had four kids, and attended church every Sunday, but even Katie’s mother had called her a “gossiping windbag,” and her mother had rarely spoken ill of anyone. Katie, taking a calming breath and channeling her mother’s patience-is-a-virtue mentality, said, “There won’t actually be any real tattoos being done, Mrs. Andrews. It’s going to be henna tattoos. Mr. Trepasso is just handing out his cards and giving people samples of his work.”

  Mrs. Andrews harrumphed. “Why Merve rented that space to a tattoo parlor, I’ll never know. It always just seems to draw the wrong element.”

  And the two bars in town don’t? Katie didn’t say that, though. She just smiled and said, “I’m sure it will be fine.”

  Mrs. Andrews seemed to realize that Katie wasn’t going to agree with her and dropped the subject. “Now Katie, I know that the town council appointed you for this job, but I am co-head of this committee and I have more experience with this event since I’m a bit older than you. I just want to make sure you appreciate my advice, and don’t disregard it out of turn. I know how you young people like to think you know everything.”

  “Of course, Mrs. Andrews, I completely value and appreciate your help. I am so honored that they picked me to help run things, but I am sure there is a lot I can learn from you.”

  That seemed to pacify the older woman, and she preened. “All right, then, so your shift for the kissing booth is from three to three thirty, and we’ll start the fireworks after the Canyon Queen Pageant. I really don’t know about doing a big fireworks display. It’s a waste of money and so very dangerous.”

  Katie wrote some notes in her binder, ignoring the fireworks subject for the sixteenth time, and closed it with a forced smile. “Okay, I think that’s it! We should be set for Thursday.”

  Mrs. Andrews frowned a little and worried aloud, “Are you sure there’s nothing else? You have your dress for the Canyon Queen float?”

  Of course she had her dress. In a small town like Rock Canyon, everyone knew everyone else’s business and you didn’t mess with town festivities and traditions. At least six people a day asked her stupid questions like “Are you ready to retire your crown?”, “Are you excited about riding the float again?”, “What’s your dress look like?”, and “How’s Jimmy doing?”

  That last question was enough to make her throw everything her mother ever taught her out the window and unleash the fury on someone. Jimmy Lawrence, her boyfriend of seven years, had broken up with her eight months ago. Actually, broken up was too mild a term. The dirty, lily-livered jerk had dumped her for a girl six years younger and twice her bra size. She’d tried to just smile and act like it didn’t bother her by participating in the Valentine’s Day singles auction—where she’d ended up spending the Sweethearts Dance with Carl Anderson, a nice enough guy when he didn’t think his rotten-egg farts were hilarious. After that, she’d gone out with a few men from church, but the men of Rock Canyon were just so . . .

  She couldn’t come up with the perfect adjective to sum up the disgusting, irritating, and even boring antics of the six dates she’d had.

  So Katie threw herself into one project after another, and this parade was only the latest. She tried to keep busy at the salon, and it helped that Jimmy and his new girlfriend had moved to Twin Falls, so she didn’t have to see them walking around looking happy and in love. If she had to suffer through that torture on a daily basis, she might drive her car into the canyon—after running the cheating bastard and his little tart over with her 4Runner first.

  Was she bitter? Well, no one could blame her. She had put her heart and soul into a relationship that had gone nowhere. All the years she’d spent grooming Jimmy, supporting him, and now someone else got to enjoy the benefits.

  Which brought her here, listening to Mrs. Andrews go on and on about the marching band, when a deep voice interrupted, “Excuse me, ladies, I just wanted to hand over my check for my rental booth.”

  Katie’s gaze snapped up to meet a pair of steel-gray eyes. She could hear the disapproval in Mrs. Andrews’s voice as she drawled, “Mr. Trepasso, we were just talking about you.”

  Those amazing eyes didn’t stray from hers as he replied, “Please call me Chase, Mrs. Andrews. I hope you ladies were saying good things about me?”

  Katie’s gaze shifted away from him to Mrs. Andrews, who looked like she’d smelled something vile. Katie, afraid the older woman would open her mouth and tell him exactly what she’d said, smiled, took his check, and quickly said, “Thanks, Chase, and of course it was good. I was just telling Mrs. Andrews what a wonderful job you did on my friend Stephanie’s rose tattoo. It’s lovely.”

  Chase’s handsome face, with his slim nose, sensual mouth, and dimpled chin, lit up with a wicked grin. His brown hair was short, spiky, and a pair of studs adorned both of his ears. “Then why haven’t you been down to see me, Katie?” He lowered his voice and leaned closer. “I can do something really small and feminine, where no one would ever see it.”

  Katie fought the urge to fan herself as she heard Mrs. Andrews’s gasp. She remembered the first time she’d seen Chase after he moved to Rock Canyon five months ago. He’d been moving through the crowd at Buck’s Shot Bar, handing out business cards for his parlor. He’d stopped in front of Steph and her, holding out a card to each of them, and when Chase’s hand had touched Katie’s it had been electric. Too bad he hadn’t seemed as affected by it as her; he’d moved on to the next group without so much as a backward glance. She’d been a little disappointed at his dismissal, and when she’d seen him in the crowd at the Valentine’s Day singles auction, she had secretly hoped he might bid on her. It was an idiotic hope, though. She went off with Carl, and Chase got into a bidding war with Gregg Phillips over
Ryan Ashton. He’d lost out, and since then she’d seen him out with several women, but never the same one twice. It seemed Chase preferred a certain type of woman and none of them had a reputation for being a “good” girl, unlike Katie, who couldn’t even seem to return a library book late.

  It was just as well that he had never looked at her like that. Chase was a heartbreaker, the kind of guy everyone in town disapproved of, but that didn’t mean he didn’t get her blood pumping anytime he came near her. Only last week he’d joined her best friend Stephanie, her husband Jared, and Katie for a friendly game of pool. When she kept missing shot after shot, he’d taken her aside, bent her over the table, and whispered, “Now, what you want to do is . . .”

  She honestly couldn’t remember what else he’d said as he’d folded that tall, muscular frame over hers and she’d felt every breath of his words against her hair, cheek, and neck. Her butt had been cradled perfectly against his jean-clad crotch and instinct had screamed at her to wiggle against him, but good girls didn’t do that. It would have been vulgar, and nice girls were never vulgar.

  He’d finally backed away from her and she’d told everyone she needed to leave, that she’d forgotten to feed her cat. She’d figured her crazy attraction to him was just a side effect of her stagnant sex life and she just needed to put some distance between them, but the memory of his body flush against hers was something that gave her ideas. Naughty, naked, sweaty ideas.

  Katie realized both Chase and Mrs. Andrews were staring at her.

  “I’m sorry, I have so much to get done, I guess I spaced out for a minute. I’ll get this to the bank tomorrow, Chase, and thank you for renting a booth.”

  He gave that sexy I-know-how-hot-I-am-smile and said, “Sure, Katie, anything to help the town.”

  Katie tried to keep her head down so he wouldn’t see her bright red cheeks or the dirty thoughts lurking in her eyes. What was wrong with her?

  Turning away with a mumbled good-bye, she walked toward the patch of dirt used as a parking lot and shook her head at her own stupidity. It didn’t matter that Chase Trepasso was probably one hell of a good time or that those gray eyes held enough heat to light a barbecue. Thinking about him in that way was a mistake.

  Katie got into her 4Runner and headed to her little two-bedroom house on Oak Avenue. It was affordable and had plenty of room for her and her big, fat black cat, Slinks. She’d bought it seven months ago, after Jimmy had told her he was leaving their little apartment at the edge of town.

  Her hands clenched every time she thought of that morning, when he’d calmly told her over a stack of waffles and black coffee that as much as he cared about her, he had met someone else. Seven years together. Seven years of washing his clothes and making him birthday cakes. Seven damn years of talk about marriage, kids, and their life together, and he had dumped her as casually as if he’d asked for the syrup. And Katie had sat there, trying not to cry because her mother had always said, “Good girls never make a scene.”

  But she’d wanted too. She still did. Every time someone mentioned his name, she pictured slapping his face or busting out the windows on his stupid truck, or what he always referred to as his “baby,” right in front of him. She must have listened to that Carrie Underwood song “Before He Cheats” a hundred times a day for a month after Jimmy had come by to get his stuff with a few of his buddies. She’d left the apartment while he was there, gone to Steph’s house and bawled like a baby. Steph had tried to cheer her up, threatening all kinds of castration and venting her own hatred, but nothing had helped. When she’d learned Jimmy had rented an apartment in Twin Falls with Selena—ugh, even her name was better than Katie’s—she hadn’t even been relieved that she wouldn’t be bumping into them. All she could feel was rage that he had said he wasn’t “emotionally mature enough” for marriage with her, while little Miss DD just needed to wiggle her butt and boom! Two months later they were picking out curtains.

  That was when she’d decided to buy the house and salon, and even though both had needed quite a bit of work, she’d valued the distraction. She’d spent months updating the house— which had needed all new fixtures and paint—and organizing all of her things the way she liked them. She could put her decorating skills on Pinterest, they were so cookie-cutter-esque.

  One good thing about Jimmy leaving: no big, muddy work boots mucking up her clean floors. And she definitely had more room for her clothes and her craft corner. Her mother always said, “Idle hands are the devil’s tools.”

  Katie parked her car in the carport and went to the end of her drive to get her mail. She pulled open the little white box decorated with trees and flowers, an impulsive buy from T.J. Maxx, but she loved it. Thumbing through the stack of bills, she found a large white envelope. Flipping it over, she opened the seal and pulled out the off-white invitation curiously. When Katie read the names in the perfect, swirly script, she felt like she’d been hit by a bus.

  Mr. and Mrs. Harold Lenier

  request the honor of your presence

  to celebrate the marriage of their daughter,

  Selena Marie Lenier

  to

  James Thomas Lawrence

  How could he? She couldn’t read anymore, her vision was so blurred by angry tears. Seven years and all she had was a couple of necklaces and a pair of emerald earrings. What had Selena done that had gotten her an engagement ring in just a few months? And why would he send her a wedding invitation? To hurt her? There was no reason why he would want to, at least none that she could think of. He had cheated on her, not the other way around, and the worst thing she had done was keep his favorite Toby Keith T-shirt before shredding it with a pair of scissors. What man in his right mind would think it was okay to humiliate her all over again by flaunting his happiness?

  Katie stuffed the invitation back into the envelope and pulled out her cell phone.

  Steph picked up on the second ring. “That low-down, no-good son of a bitch!”

  Katie smiled at her best friend’s outrage and said dryly, “I take it you got one too?”

  “I don’t know why in the hell he thought either Jared or I would want to go to his wedding. We only tolerated his no-good cheating butt because you thought you loved him! I tried to tell you he was shifty! Didn’t I tell you he was shifty?”

  Katie rolled her eyes as she unlocked the door. “Yes, I heard shifty several times.”

  “Want me to come over? I can bring a bottle of wine and some brownies from The Local Bean. We can get stuffed and wasted. Maybe even look up how to make a voodoo doll.”

  Katie dropped the mail down on her table and sighed, “Thanks, but I think I’m just going to have some dinner, take a bath, and pop in a DVD.”

  Katie could hear exasperation in Steph’s voice. “Katie, you cannot sit at home all the time and mope. You need to go out, have fun. Get your mind off Jimmy the Jerk-off! Maybe even meet someone new.”

  Katie choked. “I don’t think I’m ready for anyone new yet. Still getting over the old one, and pretty sure I’m not going to meet anyone new in Rock Canyon.”

  “So maybe you’ll meet the right one. Maybe you’ve been so blinded by Jimmy and his deceitful charm that you haven’t noticed him,” Steph suggested.

  Maybe the right one doesn’t exist. “Maybe, but I doubt it. It’s a good thing you met Jared in kindergarten, otherwise you’d be fishing in the same slim-pickins pool as the rest of us.”

  Steph and Jared had known each other their whole lives, started dating freshman year of high school, and married right after graduation. They’d gone to college together and were the epitome of what Katie wanted: her better half. Her soul mate.

  Instead she’d gotten Jimmy, and now she didn’t even have him anymore.

  “Hey, if I was single, I would be making waves in that pool, let me tell you! Your problem is that you’re such a good girl, you just try to please everyone. Name one thing you’ve done wrong. One person you’ve pissed off besides me or your mother.”


  “As much as I’d love to play let’s-make-Katie-feel-worse-on-the-third-crappiest-day-of-her-life, I’m going to go. Maybe drown myself in a bathtub,” Katie said, emotionally drained.

  “Shut up, you will not. Seriously, if you’re feeling that bad, I’ll be there in five.”

  Katie took a deep breath and counted to ten. She adored Steph, but she hovered sometimes. What Steph needed was a couple of kids to worry about; then maybe she wouldn’t worry so much about her love life. Or lack thereof.

  “I’m just kidding! I love you, but I just want to be alone,” Katie said as she opened up her bare cupboard to reveal a lonely can of green beans and a box of cake mix.

  “Okay, okay, but you know I love you, right? I just like to give you a hard time. After all, someone’s got to shake up that goody-goody thing you’ve got going on.”

  “Good night,” Katie said.

  “’Night! And don’t . . .”

  Katie hung up the phone without waiting for Steph to finish, but she already knew what she was going to say: don’t mope.

  “I don’t mope,” she muttered to herself as she searched through her fridge for anything edible. There was something green and fuzzy growing on the fajitas from three days ago. Ick.

  She grabbed her notepad off the counter, a pen from her pink poodle mug, and started a grocery list. She hated having to go out again this late, especially after being on her feet all day at the salon and then dealing with Mrs. Andrews, but she was starving and the occasion called for alcohol. Quite a bit of alcohol.

  Suddenly, a better idea struck her. Dropping the pad on the counter, she grabbed her purse and headed back out to drown her sorrows in mojitos and fries at Buck’s Shot Bar. Drinking alone at a bar on a Monday was better than grocery shopping. The grocery store held sympathetic looks and well-meaning advice. At least at Buck’s she’d be left alone to dwell on her future of twelve cats and spinsterhood.