Mustang Sassy

by Daire St. Denis

  If there was one thing Sass regretted, it was telling Libby that she didn’t do sleepovers.

  “Me and Carlos? That’s never going to happen. No way. No how. Nope.”

  “Me thinks thou dost protest too much,” Libby said, fry in hand, eying Sass thoughtfully from beneath her sweep of bangs. “I’m just saying. What are your options?” She waved the fry around in a circle indicating the patrons at the bar. “This is Greenview. Pretty slim pickin’s.”

  “Yeah, but Carlos?” Sass focused on the plate in front of her, dipping and redipping a fry into a mound of ketchup. “I’ve seen him pick his nose and scratch his ass. Kind of takes the sexy out of it.” Oh. That was a good one. Sass licked the ketchup off the fry, pleased with herself for coming up with that deflection.

  “Eww. Okay. Never mind. I take it all back. He’s here with Tori.”

  “Really?” Sass said, her voice going too high, sounding overly surprised, even though she was only too aware that Tori was with him.

  “Yep. And I’m sorry to be hard on anyone of our sex, but that girl’s a skank.”

  A laugh burst out of Sass’s mouth. She craned her head to get a view of the tables and saw Tori, draped all over Carlos. The image made her feel…annoyed and nauseous. Which was weird. Where was the rage? Where was the desire to hurt Carlos as much as he’d hurt her?

  Maybe she’d exorcised all the anger yesterday. That or she was starting to believe her own lies.

  “Sass?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Stop looking over there.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s creepy.”

  “You were just doing it.”

  “Yeah, ’cuz I’m skilled at covert surveillance. You, on the other hand, just sit there and stare. Openly. You don’t want Carlos to get the wrong idea and…holy Mama!”

  “What?”

  “Who is the hottie shooting pool with Carlos?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Blond hair. Sexy five o’clock shadow. Six-two, broad shoulders. Would go perfectly with my bedspread…”

  Sass shifted in order to get a better look, pretending like she didn’t know exactly who Libby was referring to. “Oh. That’s Jordan Michaels. He’s the one who got his car totaled Saturday night.”

  “I heard about that. Weird, huh?”

  “Yep.” Sass kept her eyes down, making a mess of the ketchup. Libby was way too perceptive for her own good. She had to deflect this conversation, fast. There was only one thing she could think of that would get Libby’s attention away from the table across the room.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  “Of course.”

  Sass dropped her voice. “It’s kind of personal.”

  Libby tilted her head. “Sass. I’m your best friend. You can talk to me about anything.”

  Oh, God. Sass had to gear herself up for this conversation. A couple years ago, Libby had started selling sex toys through a company called Sextopia. She’d had a couple of home parties before the business fizzled out. But regardless of the venture’s failure, it was Libby’s favorite topic. Sex and everything related. It was not Sass’s favorite. She was not a kiss-and-tell kind of girl, but Sass was desperate and if there was one way to get Libby to forget about Carlos and Jordan it was to get her to talk about her favorite topic.

  “It’s about, well…sex,” she whispered.

  Libby beamed like a light had come on inside of her. “It’s about time we had this little talk about the birds and the bees.” She playfully patted her hand. “What do you want to know?”

  “Ha-ha. Very funny,” Sass said. “I just need your advice on something.”

  Sitting back in her chair, a wide grin on her face, Libby said, “Shoot. Ask me anything.”

  Sass moved some more fries around on her plate. The problem was, she had no idea what to ask. After chewing on her lip, trying to come up with a topic—and hoping it appeared as if she was simply uncomfortable—Sass said, “What’s your view on…a one-night stand?”

  “A one-night stand, huh,” Libby said, nodding thoughtfully. “Not what I thought you were going to ask but a good topic of conversation, nonetheless.”

  Phew. Now all Sass had to do was sit back, finish her fries, and let Libby go off on some diatribe about sexuality. Her steak sandwich would be done soon. She’d eat and they’d leave. She’d have survived a night at the Pit with Carlos and Tori—no scenes, no violence, no smashed cars. Afterward, no one would ever guess that she’d been the one to take an iron to City-boy’s car thinking it was Carlos’s. Hogan’s would be saved.

  “Have you been listening to a word I’ve said?” Libby asked, giving Sass a kick beneath the table.

  “Yeah, sure,” Sass said quickly. “You were talking about the fact that people take sex too seriously. That a one-night stand has it’s time and place and can be fun as long as you go into it with the right attitude and do it safely. No glove. No love.”

  “Oh,” Libby said. “You were listening.”

  Sass suppressed a grin. She hadn’t been listening but ever since Libby starting selling Sextopia stuff, this was her classic lecture. Sass had simply adapted it to the topic at hand.

  “Now, take that delicious stranger over there playing pool.” Libby pointed.

  Uh-oh. “Who? Michaels?”

  “Yeah. That man is whipped cream and chocolate pudding poured into an expensive pair of jeans. He’s totally worth sampling.”

  Biting her thumb, Sass said, “So, go for it.”

  “Not for me, duh. For you.”

  “You’re crazy!”

  “Am I? Because if I’m not mistaken, he’s on his way over here.”

  Shit! It was one thing to have to deal with Carlos and Tori at the bar, she’d been prepared for that, had geared herself up for it. But Michaels? She had not expected to run into the dude she’d accidentally on purpose kissed the day after taking an iron to his car. And she totally didn’t know what to do about it.

  Maybe because she’d replayed that kiss about forty-seven-million times. But only because she’d been trying to figure out how things could have gone so wrong.

  Sass took a long pull on her beer and then another until it was empty. Just as Jordan reached their table, she stood up.

  “Be right back,” she said to Libby. She held up her empty bottle and then turned toward the bar. But she could feel him right behind her as if her body recognized the heat from his and responded. It was particularly bad when he shouldered his way right beside her at the bar and the hair on his forearm brushed her skin, making it tingle like a bazillion teeny tiny Tasers.

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were avoiding me.”

  Sass didn’t say a word. She simply shrugged and slid farther away from him. When Sam came back with her beer, Sass reached into her back pocket for the money, but before she could lay the bills down, a twenty was tossed in front of her.

  “It’s on me.”

  “I pay my own way.”

  “Look, it’s a thank you for breakfast yesterday.”

  Sass cringed. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing here, but…” She leaned in closer, not expecting him to move toward her at the same time. The result was that her breasts pressed up against his arm, sending enough electricity through her to light a Christmas tree. Sass’s head snapped up from the jolt. “Yesterday was a mistake. We should never have done that.”

  “Done what?”

  “You know,” Sass said in a low voice.

  “You mean, you shouldn’t have kissed me?”

  “Yes. I mean, no.” She shook her head. “I didn’t kiss you. You kissed me.”

  Jordan leaned closer. “Sounds like someone has a faulty memory. You definitely kissed me first. Not that I didn’t enjoy it.”

  This could not be happening. Suddenly she was back in the cabin with Jordan towering over her…too close. His lips looking much too inviting.

  With a gasp, Sass pushed Jordan’s arms away and stalke
d toward her table. She had no idea what was going on. Her body’s response was completely abnormal. Could guilt make a person horny? She’d have to ask Libby about that, because this unsolicited physical response to an almost stranger was not typical for her.

  As soon as Sass sat down, she realized she wasn’t going to get the chance to discuss anything with her friend because Libby’s eyes were fixed somewhere above Sass’s head, as if something tall, broad, and blond was hot on her heels.

  “May I join you?”

  Sass cringed and took a long, slow drink. She caught Libby nodding vigorously, encouraging Jordan to pull a chair up right beside her. Sass shrugged, set her bottle down, and said, “Suit yourself.”

  A slender, freckled arm extended across the table. “I’m Libby.”

  “Jordan.”

  Libby glanced at Sass and then back at Jordan. “Do you two know each other?”

  “No—”

  “She kidnapped me. Didn’t she tell you?”

  Libby gave Sass an accusing glare, leaned her elbows on the table, and said with way too much enthusiasm, “No. She neglected to mention anything of the sort. Do tell.”

  Shaking her head, Sass said, “I didn’t kidnap him.”

  “Okay. Kidnap might be a little harsh. She offered me a lift and then left me in the middle of nowhere. I guess that makes it abandonment.”

  Libby laughed.

  “Hey. He wanted breakfast. I dropped him at the truck stop. No biggie.”

  “Yeah. With no ride. Ten miles out of town.”

  “Classic Sass.” Libby was laughing so hard her cheeks were turning pink.

  Jordan proceeded to recount the entire, embarrassing morning, including the flat tire, the indecent show Sass was putting on by the side of the road, the cabin…everything. Well, not everything, he left out the part about the kiss. Thank God. The way he told the story though, had Libby nearly rolling on the floor of the bar, laughing so hard. He was a good storyteller and if the story hadn’t been about her, she might have found it funny, too.

  “I’m going to grab another beer. Can I get something for you two?”

  “Sure. Vodka cranberry.” Libby beamed.

  Jordan looked expectantly at Sass. Her beer was done and she would have loved another but it wasn’t a good idea. She needed to keep her wits about her. “I’m driving,” she said. “Just a Coke.”

  The second Jordan had his back turned, Libby pulled her chair close and whispered, “Oh my God. Now I know why you wanted to come here. Why didn’t you just tell me?”

  “Tell you what?”

  “Don’t play games. I’m your best friend. He’s your one-night stand.”

  “I wasn’t talking about him.”

  “Right. You were talking about some other hot, random stranger you kidnapped the other day? C’mon, Sass. He’s totally one-night-stand worthy.”

  “I…” Sass’s words trailed off as a thought came to her. Wasn’t she trying to create the illusion that there’d been nothing between her and Carlos? If Libby thought she was here because of City-boy, maybe that was a good thing. “I don’t think he’s interested.”

  “Are you nuts? He totally is.”

  Sass shook her head.

  With a little laugh, Libby said, “You really have no idea how pretty you are, do you?”

  “Don’t talk crap.”

  Leaning over, Libby patted her hand. “Don’t worry. I’m your wing-girl. We’re going to make this happen.”

  Sass had no idea what Libby’s “wing-girl” status entailed, but she probably wouldn’t like it. Before she could ask for details, Jordan returned, setting drinks down in front of them.

  “So, Jordan. Where are you from?” Libby asked with a gleam in her eye.

  “Denver.”

  “You heading back tomorrow?”

  For the first time since joining them, Jordan appeared uncomfortable. “No.” He lifted the beer to his mouth and tilted his head back, taking a long drink. Sass watched the way the muscles in his tanned neck moved as he swallowed. He had a nice neck. Strong. She bet he smelled good. Right there, where his Adam’s apple moved. Probably tasted good, too…

  A sharp pain in her shin brought her back from her fantasy of sniffing City-boy’s neck. Libby mouthed the words, You’re staring. Then with a high-beamed smile aimed right at Jordan, Libby asked, “How long do you plan on staying?”

  “Until my car’s done.” He glanced at the pool table where Carlos was still playing.

  “No kidding,” Libby said, giving Sass another nudge under the table. “So, Jordan, what is it that you do?”

  “I’m an artist.”

  Sass wondered if she appeared as surprised by his response as Libby did. An artist? He didn’t seem like an artist. He gave the impression of someone who’d be comfortable wearing a suit every day and going to work in some glass office building. Or, with those muscular arms of his, she could picture him as a professional athlete. Training every day. But artist? That one totally took her by surprise.

  “So do you paint? Draw? Where do you sell your stuff?” Libby asked.

  “I don’t.” He smeared the damp circle his beer bottle made on the table.

  “Then how do you make your living?”

  “Day job.”

  “Oh, I know what you mean. We can’t all be Sass.” Libby winked at her.

  Sass didn’t want to talk about herself so she prompted him to finish. “So, what’s the day job?”

  “I’m in HR and do some marketing, too. Not the most exciting job in the world.” He pointed his bottle at Libby. “What about you?”

  “I work at the Pharmasave.” She smiled slyly. “But that’s only my day job. Not my passion.”

  “I’ll bite,” Jordan said, grinning at Libby’s segue. “What’s your passion?”

  Libby leaned across the table and spoke in a weird husky voice that Sass had never heard before. “I sell sex toys. Lotions, potions, edible undies, that sort of thing.”

  Oh, no. No, no, no, no. Why did Libby have to turn every conversation to sex? The woman was obsessed.

  But before she could change the subject, Jordan said, “Sex toys, huh? That’s not an occupation you hear about every day.”

  “I try to be original.” Libby grinned. “I’ve got a talent for choosing the perfect product for each customer. You want to know what I think you’d like?”

  Jordan laughed good-naturedly

  Oh, for heaven’s sake. This was why Sass didn’t date. This little dance that Libby and Jordan were performing, this mating ritual that involved innuendo and small talk, drove Sass nuts. For the first time, she understood why Libby pretended to sell all that shit. Not because she actually believed in the products, but because it gave her a come-on line. Dirty girl.

  Well, Sass had had enough. It was one thing to have a conversation about sex with Libby alone. Quite another to have it with City-boy present. The whole situation was making her twitchy.

  She stood with a leg stuck out and a hand planted firmly on one hip. She tried to smile. “Do you want to dance or something?”

  Jordan stared wide-eyed at her for a second and then a slow smile spread across his face. He grabbed her hand and pulled her to the dance floor, where there were only two other couples.

  Sass realized her mistake too late. He pulled her into his arms and started to sway to the music. Dammit! She didn’t want to slow dance. Being so close to Blondie did zero to relieve her of her pent-up frustration. With her hands on his hips, she eased him back in order to give them a little breathing room.

  “So, uh, you do marketing, huh?” Talk, Hogan. Just keep talking. That usually turns guys off.

  “Yeah.”

  “Who do you market for?” Good God. What did she know about marketing? It didn’t matter. She just had to keep him talking. About sane stuff. Like anything but sex and sex toys.

  “I’ve done some work for dealerships, auto bodies, car rallies.”

  “Oh really?” Now here was a topic s
he could get into. “Anything I’ve heard of?”

  Jordan’s grip loosened as he shrugged “Probably not.”

  “Then you’re not doing a very good job.”

  He chuckled. “Okay, let’s see, Aurora’s Fleet Sales and Service?” Sass shook her head and he rattled off half-a-dozen names of companies he’d done jobs for. She hadn’t heard of any of them except one.

  “You work for Carlyle’s Classics?”

  “Not really,” Jordan said quickly. “That’s where I picked up my beater.”

  “It’s a beater now, all right. Why didn’t you just take it back to Carlyle’s to get it fixed? I bet they’d give you a deal.”

  “It’s not exactly roadworthy.”

  “Right.” Sass hoped Jordan didn’t notice she was experiencing difficulty swallowing.

  “The tow would have cost a fortune.”

  “Uh-huh.” She continued to nod, feeling guilty as hell. She’d wrecked the guy’s car and now she was slow dancing with him, letting him buy her drinks and staring at his lips remembering what it was like to kiss them. What did that make her? A first-class shit, that was what.

  “Plus, I’ve heard of Buck Hogan. Of all places to have your car totaled, what a coincidence that it’s in the town of one of the best restoration shops in the state.”

  To him it must seem like an unlikely coincidence and if she hadn’t been the one to take the iron to the car herself, she’d have been suspicious of such a coincidence, too.

  Feeling light-headed, Sass whispered, “Yeah. That is weird.” Oh God. She had to change the subject. Fast. “Carlyle’s is one of Hogan’s biggest competitors.” Was it her imagination or did he stiffen at that?

  “Is that right?”

  “Mmhmm. I’ve never been there. What’s their shop like?”

  He pulled back a bit. “Fine. You know. Average. Nothing special. I, ah, wanted to see if they were interested in some of my designs. They weren’t.”

  “Your designs?”

  “Yeah.” He smiled crookedly. “I design cars. You know, the art thing?”

  “You design cars?” She knew people who rebuilt cars but not designed them. “I’d love to see some.” Shit! She didn’t want to get to know him, no matter how easy it suddenly was to talk to him. She was only pretending to like him. She didn’t really want to like him.