by Jenna Jacob
“Any chance he’ll get the electric chair? I’d pay money to see that.”
Detective Estes laughed and shook his head. “Nope, sorry.”
She sent him a disgruntled frown.
“Miss Gates,” he began tentatively. “I know it’s none of my business, but you’re a bright, funny, and seemingly smart woman. How did you get mixed up with someone like him?”
Her throat constricted. Because I wanted him to love me. Shoving down her pathetic reasoning, she shrugged absently. “I’m not sure…especially now, but you can bet money I won’t make that mistake again.”
Oh, but she had. Shitloads more than once, and it depressed the hell out of her. It was past time for her to learn some lessons from mistake after mistake and change her ways.
With a nod, Estes led her out of the holding cell. As she signed for her belongings from a stoic-faced officer, Brea couldn’t simply brush aside her foray with the penal system or Weed’s disregard for her freedom. Scared straight, she was going to live her life totally different from here on out…starting with her unreasonable infatuation with the male species. Suddenly, a light bulb went off in her head.
“I’m going to give up men.”
“Excuse me?” The cop arched a brow in surprise before handing Brea her purse.
“Oh, nothing. I was thinking out loud.”
And it was a wonderful idea. So what if she turned into the crazy, celibate cat lady from Denton. She’d be fine without a penis messing up her life. She had toys! Those vibrating puppies had been taking care of her needs more thoroughly than Weed’s hard-on ever had.
Life without a man would be great. Eating microwave meals, reading books, watching something other than sports, and listening to her own choice of music. Sure, it might be boring, but it was safe.
Pushing past the security doors, Brea found Colton and her long-lost bestie from high school, Jade Hollis, sitting beside him. It instantly dawned on her that the woman who’d answered the phone was Jade.
“Jade? Oh, my god!” Brea screamed as she ran, then hugged her friend tightly. “Where the hell have you been?”
After Jade’s mother died, the girl had dropped off the planet. Colton had spent years trying to find her to no avail. Obviously he’d finally succeeded.
“Are you two…together now?” Brea asked, still hugging her bestie from high school.
“Yes.” Colton beamed with a smile so bright it rivaled the sun. “In fact, we’re getting married in September.”
“Seriously? That’s fantastic! It’s about damn time.”
“Yes, it is.” Colton beamed with pride, then glanced around the police station and sobered. “What do we need to do to get you out of here? Post bail or…”
“No. Oh, hell, I’m sorry. I was so caught up in seeing Jade I didn’t even say thank you for coming to save me.” Brea felt like a ditz for ignoring the man. “There’s no charges, no bail for me. I’m free to go. I’ll fill you in on all the gory details later. Right now, I just want to get out of here. That and hear how you two finally found each other.”
“She found me.” Colton grinned. As he relayed how he’d found Jade on the sidewalk in Haven, his happiness never wavered.
She pinned her wayward friend a scowl. “Do you have any idea how worried we were about you?”
Her chastising tone, scathingly reminiscent of her mother’s, made Brea cringe. Guilt for jumping Jade’s shit thrummed through Brea. Making it worse was the look of remorse that wrinkled her friend’s face.
“I didn’t mean to worry you guys. I was going through a bad time and needed to be alone while I got my head straight.”
“No. I’m sorry. I was so preoccupied with the first Mr. Wrong, I wasn’t there when you needed me.”
“It’s all right. Life is perfect now.” Jade tipped her chin and gazed up at Colton with a love that was blinding. “I don’t miss Denton a bit.”
“Denton?”
“Yeah, I used to live not too far from here.”
“Shut up!” Brea gaped. “I’ve lived here with Weed for almost two years.”
“You shut up!” Jade blinked in disbelief.
“Both of you shut up, and let’s get out of here,” Colton teased. “We can catch up on the way home.”
As they headed toward the parking lot, Brea remembered she wanted to pack her things. “Would it be too much trouble to run by the house? I want to pack.”
“Can I torch the prick’s place when you’re done? Of course, I’d prefer to do it with the little twit beaten unconscious inside…” Colton grinned evilly.
“That’s tempting, but the cops are still there.”
“Damn.” He scowled.
Wanting to keep from focusing on her own troubles, Brea listened as Jade explained her mass exodus from Austin. After burying her mother, the bank repossessed her friend’s home. Bereft at losing everything, Jade pulled inside herself instead of leaning on her friends.
Brea knew pride was an evil bitch. It’s what kept her from reaching out to her parents after all.
“Good thing is, Colton and I are together now.”
“By the looks on your faces, it’s better than good.”
“It is,” Colton piped in. “It’s incredible.”
“I don’t need any of the X-rated details.” Brea held up her hand. “I’ve decided to give up men.”
She didn’t know why she’d blurted out her strategy. Was she subconsciously hoping, by saying the words aloud, it would stop her from tumbling into bed and taking up playing house with the next man who showed her the slightest hint of attention?
“Yeah, right,” Colton scoffed in disbelief. “There’ll be a star in the east and another virgin birth before that’s going to happen.”
“Laugh all you want, but I’m serious. Until I find a guy who worships me for more than doing his laundry and scrubbing the toilet bowl, they can all pound sand.”
Colton sent her a frown. “Not all us men are pricks, sweetheart.”
“I know that, but I’m not a man magnet, I’m a jerk-wad aficionado. I’ve played the fool so often I should have a collection of Tony Awards in my thong drawer.”
“Oh, honey,” Jade sympathized. “One day you’ll find—”
“Someone who deserves me. Yeah…yeah, my folks tried drilling that into my head since my first menstrual period. I’m convinced that all the good men have either climbed out of the dating pool or they drowned.”
“Don’t give up on the whole male species yet,” Colton insisted. “There are lots of good men out there waiting for the right woman. You’ll find your guy. You’re too special not to enjoy a solid, loving relationship.”
She was special all right…a special mess.
Brea sent him a smile of appreciation, biting back a retort that she thought him full of shit. “I do know one thing. I’m done handing out my heart like a Hallmark card to every guy who thinks giving me the best fifteen seconds of my life is enough.”
Jade gasped.
Colton frowned and shook his head. “Fifteen seconds? Oh, honey!”
When he pulled the truck to the curb in front of Weed’s house, cops milled about, as Estes had promised. While her friends waited in the truck, Brea approached the crime tape that stretched around the porch.
“Miss Gates?” a blond-haired man in a dark suit asked.
“Yes.”
“I’m Detective Nickel. Estes said to expect you.” Raising the yellow tape, he nodded for her to duck under. “I’ll escort you through the house.”
“Thank you.”
Stepping inside her soon-to-be-former home, she saw the place had been practically turned upside down. A little smile curled her lips knowing Weed, the lazy prick, would have to clean the mess up all alone. Brea was going to be long gone.
She knew she wouldn’t get far on the seven hundred dollars—originally allotted for the house payment—in her purse. But Colton had offered her a place to stay, and with any luck, she’d find work in Haven and soon
be in a position to fully support herself. Ready to be rid of any memory of Weed, Brea stormed into the bedroom. Shockingly, she realized that nothing had been touched.
“We’re working our way through each room. We haven’t made it back here yet,” Nickel explained.
Like a robot, she nodded, but her focus was on the bed she’d shared with Weed. That she’d gotten mixed up with the asshat sent revulsion pulsing through her veins. After grabbing two duffle bags from the back of the closet, she tossed them on the bed.
“I’ll need to look inside those,” the detective stated.
“They’re not Weed’s, they’re mine. And they’re empty…see?”
Pulling the zipper apart, she shook out each bag over the bed. With a curt nod, the man stood watching—a silent sentinel—while, like a Tasmanian devil, Brea filled the totes.
“I’d like some privacy to change out of my work uniform if you don’t mind?”
Nickel sent her a blank expression. “I’m sorry. There aren’t any female officers on site. If you’d like to wait, I’ll be happy to call the station and have—”
“Never mind.” Brea shook her head. “If you haven’t seen a woman in bra and panties by now, then today’s your lucky day.”
Nickel chuckled. “If it’s any consolation, I have a wife and three daughters.”
“Good. I didn’t want to make you blush.”
Turning her back on him, Brea whipped off her uniform shirt. Weed’s actions had stolen not only her freedom but her home and privacy as well. She yanked on an oversized T-shirt before tugging off her skirt, then quickly pulled on a pair of black yoga pants and slipped into her sandals. Unabashedly, Brea opened the drawer of the nightstand and retrieved her vibrators.
One corner of the detective’s mouth twitched as she shoved them into her bag.
“At least B.O.B. and his friends won’t send me to jail or break my heart like every other man in my life,” she quipped.
“Indeed they won’t.” The detective had the good grace not to laugh.
Back in the truck, the three headed toward Haven. Brea struggled to put thoughts of Weed, jail, and drugs behind her. But Estes’ question remained, haunting her: Why did you choose someone like Weed Sherman?
Not only was she a hopeless romantic with too many imperfections, but also, it was safer choosing men riddled with more flaws than she, in hopes they’d be content. Content with her mousy brown hair, unremarkable matching eyes, and the unattractive curves of her five-foot-one and slightly chunky body. She’d hoped that if her lovers could ignore her imperfections—as she did theirs—one day, she’d find the storybook ending she’d always dreamed of. Unfortunately her love stories turned into epic yelling matches brimmed with hurt or platonic, sexually frustrating sagas of boredom. In reality, all were nothing but horrific horror novels.
Stripping the layers of fantasy and staring at her reality head on, Brea realized she’d been living a fool’s paradise. That sobering enlightenment only served to bolster her boycott of men…or at least a long dry spell until she came to terms with her own inadequacies. Of course, the more likely scenario was that hell would freeze over first, but she was willing to at least try.
“Jade and I haven’t had dinner yet. Are you hungry?” Colton asked, interrupting Brea’s internal musings.
The thought of food made her stomach cramp. Instead of answering, she simply shrugged.
Jade shot her a sympathetic smile. “Don’t crawl inside yourself. Take it from one who’s been there…it’s a cold and empty place. Lean on us. We’re here for you.”
“That’s right.” Colton nodded. “I’ll be more than happy to vet the next guy you want to date.”
Brea shot him a crooked grin. “Thanks, Dad.”
“Aw, what a sweet offer,” Jade cooed with a starry-eyed gaze. “You are such a love.”
He darted her with an equally mooning and sickening expression. “No, sweetheart. You are.”
“Lord, I can tell already that I’m going to need insulin injections around you two,” Brea moaned.
“I can stop by the pharmacy after dinner if you’d like.” Colton teased.
“That’s okay, I’ll just skip dessert,” Brea countered with a cheesy grin.
The couple kept her engaged in conversation, staving off her Dr. Phil internalization. Before long, Colton had turned onto the main street of Haven and pulled in front of a café called Toot’s.
Brea couldn’t hold back a giggle. “You’ve got to be shitting me. Toot’s? Is the food so toxic it gives everyone gas?”
Jade cracked up laughing. “Oh, my god. I thought the very same thing.”
“Ha ha.” Colton turned off the motor. “Toot is a great cook. You’ll see.”
“She really is. The food is to die for.” Jade nodded.
When Brea entered the café, her senses were assaulted with such luscious aromas her stomach growled loudly.
“Heavens, Brea. I think you just woke the old folks at the nursing home across town. When did you eat last?”
“Dinner yesterday, I think.” Brea couldn’t honestly remember.
She’d skipped breakfast this morning, fighting with Weed—for the umpteenth time—over his refusal to find work. Unbeknownst to her, the dumb ass had a job…an illegal one. Lunchtime had come and gone. The coffee shop had been inundated with customers ordering a one-time special, twenty-five-cent mango-passion iced tea. Though she’d thought she’d never eat again while at the police station, Brea was suddenly famished.
After passing several booths with tables draped in red-and-white-checked gingham, Brea sat down next to Jade on a red spinning stool, at the long, gray-speckled Formica-topped counter. The place had a fifties vibe.
A teenaged waitress handed them menus and ice water before darting away once more. When she returned, Brea ordered the chicken-fried steak, then excused herself and trekked to the ladies’ room. After sitting in a dirty holding cell and bawling her eyes out, she’d have given her well-worn virginity for a steaming shower or that silky bubble bath she’d been dreaming about driving home from work. With neither luxury available at the moment, she washed the scuzzy residue of jail from her hands. After splashing cold water on her face, she peered up at the mirror. Blotchy skin, swollen eyes, and her hair a fright, Brea dragged a brush from her purse and tried to tame her wild hair. She looked and felt as if she’d been shit through a rusty sieve. There was nothing she could do about that now, so she tossed her brush back in her purse and strolled out of the bathroom.
Stopping dead in her tracks, she nearly swallowed her tongue as she drank in the hunky cowboy who’d hijacked her seat next to Jade. Brea couldn’t peel her eyes off his ubër-broad shoulders, cinnamon-colored hair, and sun-kissed skin. When he smiled at something Colton said, a tingle rippled over her flesh. Jade retorted something, and the man threw back his head and laughed. The vibration of his rich, deep tenor stroked her spine and roused primal feminine desires she didn’t know were inside her.
Down, girl. You’ve given up men…remember? Besides, he’s a ginger.
She wasn’t usually attracted to redheads, but for this copper-haired Adonis, Brea would happily make an exception…if she were still shopping the man market.
As if feeling her stare, the man turned his head. Her pulse leapt. His emerald-green eyes rimmed with flecks of gold locked onto her with such intensity she felt as if he were dismantling her defenses and delving into her very soul. He flashed her a seductive lopsided smile, and Brea’s knees turned to rubber. Reaching out, she clung to the countertop and dropped her gaze for fear he’d see hunger reflecting in her eyes.
Man ban? Hello? her conscience mocked.
She felt like a newly converted vegan who’d just been offered a fat, juicy steak, and her hormones screamed in outrage. The cosmos had once again aligned to say…fuck you, bitch!
“There she is.” Colton smiled.
Forcing her feet to move, she swallowed tightly.
“Brea, I’d like you to m
eet Sawyer,” Colton continued. “Sawyer, this is our good friend Brea. She’s staying with Jade and me for a while.”
“My, my, you sure are a pretty little thing.” Sawyer’s gaze locked with hers as he tipped his white Stetson before flashing her a confident wink.
His silky, deep voice slid over her flesh like gooey syrup, sending a hard quiver to rack her system. Sawyer rose from her seat. He was tall, at least six-foot-billion, and towered over her miniature five-foot-nothing frame like a mountain. He made her feel like a damn Oompa Loompa.
The man was too tall.
Too pussy-clenching handsome.
Too damn intense.
Everything about him was quickly abolishing her non-penis pledge. She wanted to look away…hide from his dissecting stare, and try to quell the heat surging between her legs, but couldn’t. Instead, she stood like a deaf-mute, drinking in every sinful inch of the man as her imagination took over her brain. She could almost feel the cinnamon-colored scruff on his face. And his lips…good Lord above. They were full, firm, and enticing. It took every ounce of willpower she possessed not to lift to her toes and latch her mouth to his.
Somehow she managed to tear from his gaze. Brea wished she hadn’t as she skimmed her eyes over the sinewy muscles of his partially exposed arms. His narrow hips made her want to wrap her legs around him, and his long, sturdy thighs looked as if they could easily keep pace while he thrust into her all night long. She nearly sighed out loud as she drank in his expansive chest stretched beneath a blue chambray shirt.
Her palms itched to feel every thick-corded muscle packed beneath his clothes.
“It’s nice to meet you, Brea. I hope you don’t mind that I kept your seat warm.”
Still unable to form a single syllable, Brea prayed she wasn’t drooling like a Saint Bernard as she ogled the chiseled features of his face.
No mortal man had the right to look so damn gorgeous. He was a living, breathing work of art.
Cursing her ill-timed vow of chastity, she studied his every nuance. The knowledge that she’d never have the chance to live out the fantasies crowding her mind was mournful as hell. But alone in bed, Sawyer could roam free inside her head…and his imaginary tongue, up and down her body. Of course, she’d likely burn through a package of batteries a night, and quite possibly kill a B.O.B. or two—but a girl’s gotta do, what a girl’s gotta do.
