by Vanessa Vale
I processed Jack's words, looked at him closely, carefully. The harried look he'd been carrying around with him was gone. Even tired, he looked relaxed. At ease with himself. “You did the right thing.”
Jack smiled at me, squeezed my hip, nodded. “I did the right thing. And it felt damn good. It felt even better getting on that plane and walking away from it all. There's nothing in Florida I feel proud of. It was easy to take the deal with my boss, the board.”
He pulled my hip, tugging me toward him. I wanted to get some answers before I succumbed to him and his charms. In fact, I could feel one of his charms getting bigger by the minute beneath me. I put a hand on his chest, felt the rise and fall of his breath, the solid thump, thump of his heart. I couldn't hold my ground for much longer. The desperate need I had to kiss him, touch him, everywhere was becoming more and more overpowering.
Using the smidge of willpower I had left, I said, “Wait.”
“I don't want to wait. I was thinking of that party bag of toys from Mike's I have in my bag.”
My smile faded, remembering what I'd put in there when I thought he was a jerk. “You've got to be kidding. You lugged that crap to Miami and back? You weren't stopped by security?”
Jack just stared at me.
“Out of all the things you packed you brought that stuff?” My voice went up an octave, incredulous.
“You're glad that I kept it all,” Jack commented. I could tell he wore his poker face because the corner of his lip was twitching.
“I'm well aware of what I put in your favor bag and I want nothing to do with any of it,” I said primly.
“Not even the cock ring?” Jack asked, clearly amused.
“Ha ha. Goldie can supply you with whatever you want.” I shook my head. “Scratch that. I want Goldie as far away from you and sex toys as possible. Working at Goldilocks would be excruciating.”
Jack grinned. “I can only imagine. To ease your mind, I gave it all to Mike when I dropped the other bags off. Along with his fancy new paddle. Besides, I’d rather figure out what makes you hot all on my own.”
I gave him a playful swat on the shoulder for the teasing, but blushed at the thought of him finding all my hot buttons. “Good,” I said, about the bag going away and that he wanted to discover what got me off. “You might be interested to hear, I got a postcard from Lorraine and Roland.”
“Ronald,” Jack corrected.
“Right, Ronald. They're in Cancun having a second honeymoon. I guess the whole incident has brought them closer together. Along with a box from Goldie, which I've heard was quite special.”
Jack rolled his eyes. “I'm sure. Goldie's pretty good at reading people.”
A thought came to me.
“Hey, what was that weird text all about?” When I'd called and asked Goldie, she'd been too distracted from answering by that Sex-Ed guy. I'd forgotten about it since.
“Text?” Jack asked innocently.
I jabbed him in the ribs with a finger. “Yes, a text. You know exactly what I mean.”
Jack sighed, took the hand I'd poked him with, held it, his thumb caressing the inside of my wrist. “About a week after I got back to Miami I received a package.”
“You, too?” Rolling my eyes, I said, “Oh, God. I can only imagine.”
Shaking his head, Jack continued, “I don't think you can. Goldie and Uncle Owen sent a joint package. He sent a one-way ticket back to Bozeman.”
He paused, probably wanting me to die of curiosity before he told me the rest.
I couldn't stand it. “And?”
“Goldie sent me a little present to remember all the good times I had here.”
This time I stayed quiet, waiting. I could only imagine what she'd sent. Condoms, nipple clamps, body oil, porn. The list was endless and nothing was too risqué for her.
“She sent me a pocket pussy.” His voice was a little rough and I could tell the humor of the situation was getting the better of him.
I just stared at him, processing. “A pocket pussy? Like the one the lady bought that day in the store?”
Jack slowly nodded again. “Must've been where Goldie got the idea.”
“Your text said”—I paused, thinking about what he'd sent—“'Tell Goldie I get it.' What does that mean? That you got the pocket pussy?”
Jack flashed another grin. “No. It meant I understood why she sent it.”
“Well, I don't,” I replied, my voice a little snippy with impatience. It was like everyone was in on a joke but me.
“If I remember correctly,” Jack started, “the woman who bought it that day was giving it to her husband for when he went away on a business trip. To use and keep him busy until he got back home and could be with her again. Goldie sent it to me to use”—Jack cleared his throat here, most likely thinking about using the masturbation tool—“until I could get back to you.”
My mouth fell open and tears filled my eyes in a hot rush. Jack's face got blurry. “Oh, my God. That's the most romantic thing I ever heard.” I swiped at the tears on my cheeks with the back of my hand. “Did it work?”
“I'm assuming you're referring to Goldie's efforts, not the functionality of the pocket pussy.”
I chuckled through my tears. Jack lifted a thumb and rubbed them away. “I'm here, aren't I?” he whispered.
Leaning in, I kissed him with every ounce of love that I had. The need must have been mutual because not only did Jack's kiss feel full of lust, but his love for me as well. Raining kisses over my damp cheeks, down along my jaw, my neck, my ear, Jack whispered, “Just so you know, I didn't use it. I've been waiting to come back to you.”
My hands moved to Jack's shoulders, felt the softness of his fleece shirt beneath my fingers. I gripped tightly, holding on for dear life as he licked and sucked at my very sensitive neck. My eyes had fallen closed at some point. “Are you really back?”
“Yes,” Jack all but groaned against my neck, his breath made goose bumps rise on my skin. His hands had moved underneath my grungy work sweatshirt, beneath my T-shirt to my bare skin. “You're the only good thing in my life. Hell, you are my life.”
My heart rate accelerated at his words, excitement flared. “I love you, Reid.” I pulled back, grabbed hold of Jack's head so he couldn't look anywhere but at me, his rough stubble scratchy against my palms.
He kissed me, gently, softly on the lips. “I love you, Miller.”
“For good?” I asked.
This was it. The answer I'd been dying to hear.
“For good.”
Note From Vanessa
Don’t worry, there’s more Small Town Romance to come!
But guess what? I’ve got some bonus content for you with Jack and Veronica. So sign up for my mailing list. There will be special bonus content for each Small Town Romance book, just for my subscribers. Signing up will let you hear about my next release as soon as it is out, too (and you get a free book…wow!)
As always…thanks for loving my books and the wild ride!
Want more?
Read an excerpt from Montana Heat, the third book in the Small Town Romance series.
Montana Heat - Excerpt
“MeMe Hardy. It's been too long!” Goldie called to me as I stomped my boots. She was the owner of Goldilocks, the local, and only, adult store in town. She'd opened it well before I was born and it was practically a historic landmark, although I'm sure Goldie wouldn't appreciate that description. It sold anything and everything sex related, from condoms to crotchless panties to fingertip vibrators. Even in a town of less than thirty thousand, business boomed.
I winced at the childhood nickname. When I turned eighteen and went away to college in California, I was able to shed that moniker and take on my given name, Emma. But there were a few die-hards in town still that remembered me when I was three and couldn't say my own name right. I'd been back in town six years and was pushing thirty, but I'd still be MeMe to some. My mother, my aunt Sissy, a silly name in its own right, and Goldie.<
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“Sorry I'm late,” I tell Goldie and Violet, both behind the counter, piles of what looked like lingerie spread out before them. I pulled my knit cap from my head and tucked my blond hair behind my ears, taming the static out of it.
My friend Violet looked at me trying not to laugh and mouthed, “MeMe?”
I rolled my eyes at her. “I got stuck behind a snow plow.”
Goldie nodded as she took her glasses off her nose and let them dangle over her ample bosom by a sparkly, rhinestone covered chain about her neck. “That's the safest place to be on a day like this. What can I get for you today?” Goldie looked me over, as if by looking at me she could guess just what I needed. “A new bra.”
Oh, great. She could see gravity setting in through my heavy winter coat.
She rubbed her chin. “No, you're here for a vibrator.”
I could feel my cheeks heat at her words but I couldn't help but chuckle. “Nope,” I answered as I shook my head, leaving her hanging. Talking vibrators with Goldie, who was friendly with my mom, was just about as bad as talking about it with my mom herself. Not that the vibrator in my bedside stand couldn't use an update, or at least new batteries, but I wasn't planning on telling her that.
“No vibrator for me today, Goldie. Thanks though.” I smiled brightly.
“Well, just give me a call when you're ready and I'll pick out a top of the line model for you. You know,” she waggled her eyebrows and twirled her finger in the air, “the one that has that spinning middle.”
My mouth fell open at the thought. I wasn't sure if I should be mortified or intrigued at the very idea.
Here's the thing about Goldie, everyone in town knew her and knew no topic of conversation was off the table. Most people probably hid behind a display of canned corn in the supermarket to avoid her if they didn't want to get details about their love life pulled out of them like a dentist yanking a bad tooth.
She was in her sixties, a local fixture who knew the sexual proclivities of practically everyone in town over the age of eighteen, and was a pistol. She had unapologetically big, poofy blond hair which was currently pulled back from her face by a red velvet headband. She wore a matching bright red sweater and earrings that were dangling sleigh bells. She was definitely in the holiday spirit. The Mrs. Claus look certainly helped with that.
“No vibrator? You must have a hot date and you need some condoms. Smart girl, being safe like that.” She reached into the plastic container on the counter of singly wrapped condoms she threw in for free with every purchase.
“No hot date,” I grumbled. “Last one was eons ago.”
“Oh.” She put the handful of foil packets she'd grabbed back, her idea of a hot date a little more adventurous than most with that many condoms, but kept one. “Here. For your purse.”
I walked up to her and took the offering, knowing you never turned down a breath mint or a condom. “Thanks,” I said, tucking it into the zippered part of my bag.
“She's here to meet me. We're going out for lunch,” Violet said as she grabbed her coat and bag from a hook on the wall and made her way around the counter. Slim and attractive, Violet always dressed stylishly, even for such a frigid day, when you just wanted to be bundled up in cozy sweats.
We'd been friends since the summer I'd come back from college. She was filling in for her identical twin sister, a longtime employee at Goldilocks. If not for style difference in wardrobe, I wouldn't be able to tell them apart. Veronica was off in Jackson Hole with her boyfriend to ski, if I remembered correctly.
Violet had told me over the phone she wasn't too keen on taking a shift for Veronica, working in an adult store not quite her thing—she was a first grade teacher—but she'd said she didn't have too much choice. She hadn't given me the details, but something had happened and Violet was indebted to her sister, often saying yes to tasks she would rather avoid, tasks she had avoided in the past.
Like spending tons of time with Goldie. Not that Violet didn't like Goldie, everyone liked Goldie. They had to or she could blackmail the pants off the entire town. But if the woman could pick out the fact I needed a vibrator upgrade just by looking at me, who knew what she'd discover if I worked next to her for a few hours.
“That's nice, dear. So spill, MeMe, about this hot date from eons ago.”
* * *
Get Montana Heat now!
About the Author
Vanessa Vale is the USA Today Bestselling author of over 40 books, sexy romance novels, including her popular Bridgewater historical romance series and hot contemporary romances featuring unapologetic bad boys who don't just fall in love, they fall hard. When she's not writing, Vanessa savors the insanity of raising two boys, is figuring out how many meals she can make with a pressure cooker, and teaches a pretty mean karate class. While she's not as skilled at social media as her kids, she loves to interact with readers.
www.vanessavaleauthor.com
Also by Vanessa Vale
Small Town Romance
Montana Fire
Montana Ice
Montana Heat
Montana Wild
Montana Mine
Steele Ranch
Spurred
Wrangled
Tangled
Hitched
Lassoed
Bridgewater County Series
Ride Me Dirty
Claim Me Hard
Take Me Fast
Hold Me Close
Make Me Yours
Kiss Me Crazy
Mail Order Bride of Slate Springs Series
A Wanton Woman
A Wild Woman
A Wicked Woman
Bridgewater Ménage Series
Their Runaway Bride
Their Kidnapped Bride
Their Wayward Bride
Their Captivated Bride
Their Treasured Bride
Their Christmas Bride
Their Reluctant Bride
Their Stolen Bride
Their Brazen Bride
Their Bridgewater Brides- Books 1-3 Boxed Set
Outlaw Brides Series
Flirting With The Law
MMA Fighter Romance Series
Fight For Her
Wildflower Bride Series
Rose
Hyacinth
Dahlia
Daisy
Lily
Montana Men Series
The Lawman
The Cowboy
The Outlaw
Standalone Reads
Twice As Delicious
Western Widows
Sweet Justice
Mine To Take
Relentless
Sleepless Night
Man Candy - A Coloring Book
