“Oh, so there aren’t any scripts hidden in your suitcase or on your phone?”
Missy shook her head emphatically, and Louise sighed.
"Fine, you win. Now have another slice of bacon. You could use it."
"You don't have to tell me twice. You know I'm a sucker for bacon." Missy fixed them both full plates while Louise poured orange juice into two green plastic tumblers.
"I don't have anywhere to be, so make mine a mimosa."
"Oh, that reminds me, I picked up a bunch of movies while I was at the store. You know, all the stuff you can't usually find on Netflix." She motioned toward a brown paper bag, and Missy popped up to grab it.
"Sweet Home Alabama, The Notebook, Never Been Kissed, 27 Dresses… Jeez, Louise! Looks like you had romance on the brain."
Louise chuckled and popped a forkful of eggs into her mouth. "Hey, I know how to keep my woman happy."
"Spoiling me with home-cooked meals and romantic comedies. Jordan better watch out!" Missy took a long swig of her mimosa and put her feet up on the adjacent chair. "A girl could get used to this."
"I wanted to make sure that at least you had a good time while I'm stuck in the office all day." She frowned and shot her friend an apologetic look.
"Don't act like you don't love it, Ms. Workaholic."
"Speaking of which, I have to scoot. See you tonight, okay?" She gave Missy’s shoulder a squeeze as she passed by.
"Yup, I'm all set here." Missy grabbed a leftover forkful of eggs from Louise's plate. "See ya in a few."
Louise gave Missy a quick kiss on the top of her head before charging through the door. Even though her temporary office was less than a five-minute drive from their rental home, she felt rushed. She needed to allow at least forty-five minutes each day to get to her Manhattan firm bright and early before the partners arrived.
The large truck felt far too bulky for her liking. Then again, being huddled in a subway car with dozens of other agitated New Yorkers didn't exactly make for a comfortable commute either. A call came through the system's Bluetooth, and she recognized the number at once.
Her boss. Crap.
"Louise Gordon,” she answered, attempting to sound happy about the call.
"Louise, listen, we're having some trouble with the Kleinmann case. Can you give me a quick rundown?"
She ran through the most pertinent facts quickly. Of course, the Kleinmann account was zooming forward quickly without her.
Of course.
This was her biggest client, and not being there when he needed her would look unprofessional to the partners.
She rolled past a bright, little coffee shack. The aroma of dark roast and donuts wafted in through the window, which she'd cracked to help clear her head. Further down the road, she spied the local townsfolk bustling about as they prepared for the day ahead. A familiar form emerged from among them. His muscular legs hardly touched the pavement as he flew down the street at a sprint.
Louise slowed to get a better look. Just because she'd sworn off talking to him didn't mean she couldn't appreciate looking at him from a distance.
“Gordon, did you get that?" Her boss sounded agitated.
"I'm sorry, get what?"
"I need you to email me the documents for Kleinmann right away. By ten please. We need to move forward on this, and we need to move forward now. I know you're on vacation, but—"
"I'm not on vacation."
Her boss sighed, and she could tell he’d already lost his patience with her. “Yeah, but you're not here, either."
"I'm sorry about that. Of course, give me five minutes, and you'll have them."
"Good." The phone clicked, and the local radio station took back over the speakers.
Brady waved in her direction.
She didn't know what to do, so she threw him an awkward smile and waved back, then watched as he continued down the street in the opposite direction, his jogging shorts tugging at his gorgeous backside.
HONK!
"Sorry, sorry," Louise called to the driver she'd just cut off at the four-way stop. When she glanced back in her rearview mirror, she saw that Brady was laughing at her. This was not a good start to her day—not a good start at all.
Chapter 4
By the time Louise trudged home from her temporary office, night had already enveloped the sky and a full blanket of stars twinkled brightly above.
Missy, still in her pajamas, swiped at tears as The Notebook reached its dramatic conclusion. When the end credits filled the screen a few moments later, she turned to Louise and asked, "Do you think Jordan loves me like that? Like how Noah loved Allie?"
"Obviously." Louise choked back a laugh while her friend let her tears flow freely.
"Yeah." She sniffed. "Me, too." And just like that, her tears dried up and she popped to her feet, dragging Louise toward the stairs. "Now, c'mon. I need a night out, and so do you."
"Don't you at least want to hear about my day?" Louise asked as Missy rifled through her suitcase.
"Nope, work stays at the office. Now it's time to have some fun. Here." She thrust a sequined, backless number toward Louise. "Put this on, freshen up your makeup, and meet me in five. We're going to the bar."
Louise tugged at the hem of the shirt she'd borrowed from Missy as they entered the bar later that evening. Way too flashy, but she knew better than to argue when it was easier to just play along. Missy had never steered her wrong before—at least not when it came to letting loose and enjoying herself.
When they walked into Jake's Watering Hole, the local honky-tonk bar, all eyes turned toward them—or, more aptly, toward Missy. Louise smiled shyly and followed Missy over to the bartender.
"Two screaming orgasms," Missy announced, slamming a twenty down onto the leather-trimmed counter.
Louise rolled her eyes and hoped no one had overheard.
Just then, a man wearing a business suit brushed Missy’s twenty aside and slapped down two hundred-dollar bills. "Why stop at two? I can treat you to as many of those there orgasms as you'd like."
"Sure." Missy flashed her famous smile toward the generous stranger. "As long as it's just booze you're talking about. I'm an engaged woman."
"Engagements can be broken." The man wrapped his arms around Missy’s waist and leaned in toward her neck, taking a deep, lusty breath.
"Not this one. But, hey, thanks for the drinks." She pulled Louise by her purse strap to a booth in the far corner of the open space, sashaying as they retreated.
The bartender brought over their drinks and an order of loaded potato skins. "On the house," she said, pointing her chin in the direction of the appetizer. "My way of apologizing for that creep earlier. This is a friendly establishment—but not that friendly. Anyway…" She plopped a pair of small plates before them. "Your drinks are paid for, for the night and then some, so enjoy. Just holler when you're ready for a refresher. I'll be around."
Missy speared a potato skin and drove it into her mouth. "My favorite,” she said around the bite.
Something still bothered Louise. Missy told Brady off for showing even the slightest hint of disrespect, but had endured much worse from the man at the bar without so much as speaking up for herself. What made it different for her? Louise couldn’t resist asking. "How do you just let it roll off you like that?"
"What, the creeper? Occupational hazard, unfortunately. I can let it upset me, or I can just move on with my life. Bottoms up, Weezy." She giggled and motioned for the bartender to bring another round.
"Only if you promise never to call me that again," Louise hissed. She plugged her nose and let the hot liquor slide down her throat. She was much more of a Chianti kind of girl, but when in Rome—or in Anchorage as the case may be.
"Make them Jacks," she hollered over the rising noise of the bar once the sting of the liquor had worn off.
"Now that's more like it." Missy pulled out her ponytail and gave her head a good, solid shake, causing her gorgeous blonde hair to cascade down her ba
ck.
"So that cowboy. Dish." Her eyes glowed in the dimly lit bar.
"There's not much to tell." Louise tucked a stray tendril of hair behind her ear and forked idly at the spuds.
"Well then, it won't take very long to tell me everything."
"You sure do know how to get your way."
"It's a talent." Missy winked and then motioned for Louise to get on with it.
"Well, I had a crush on him back in grade school, and when he asked me out, I said yes."
"Uh-huh."
"It was sixth grade, and we dated for a year or so before breaking things off."
"What happened?"
"We just weren't right for each other. He was the jock, and I was the book nerd. None of our interests matched up."
"How very practical of you."
"Well…" Louise smiled and rolled her eyes. Missy was always calling her out on her lawyerly ways.
"Somehow I have a feeling you aren't telling me everything. What broke you up?"
"Really, that's everything." Louise didn't feel like rehashing the past, and she definitely didn't feel like reliving the moment that had broken them up for good. Still, she needed to throw Missy a bone here.
"Did I tell you he was my first kiss? Maybe that's why he's left such a lasting impression."
Missy’s eyes glowed from across the table. "Your first! How was it?"
"Wet and kind of gross. We were only twelve. Neither of us knew what the hell we were doing back then."
"I bet he knows now."
Louise scoffed. "Yeah, a fact he is most definitely aware of.”
"You've always liked the cocky ones before. Why not this time?"
"Seriously, Missy? You heard how he talked to me, and besides we come from two different planets."
"See, that's funny, because I thought you were both raised here in Anchorage.” She fixed her friend with a knowing stare.
"You know what I mean. Anyway, I think I need another shot… Two more over here," she shouted.
"You think you can get off that easy? Well, think again."
Louise huffed. "What? That's everything, really."
"Everything except for why you're all flustered every time I mention his name."
"I am not!"
"Brady."
A lump formed in Louise's throat, but she swallowed it back down.
"Bucking Brady Rockwell.” Missy chomped her teeth flirtatiously, and Louise couldn't keep a nervous heat from rising to her face. "See, see! Right there! Total flusterment."
"First, that's not a word. And, second, fine, he's a good-looking man. What more do you want?"
"For starters, you can admit that you totally want to jump his bones."
Louise shook her head in denial. Surely, her friend knew her better than this. “I’m not like that, and you know it.”
“Yeah, but you like him. Admit it. Admit it now."
"And then you'll drop it?"
"Then I'll drop it."
Louise slammed another shot and when the sting had subsided said, "Okay, I like him."
Missy laughed. “Yeah. How much?”
She grabbed the next shot before the bartender could even place it on the table, and downed it fast. Her head began to spin, but she tried to ignore it. There was a reason she very rarely let any alcohol past her lips. She hated to lose control, hated to feel like her brain was trapped within a thick layer of fog.
Missy quirked an eyebrow and repeated her earlier request. "Tell me," she whined.
"I like him so bad I haven't been able to get him out of my head for hours. So much it took all my restraint to focus on the estate while I was at work today. So much that if he were here now, I'd…"
"You'd?"
“That I might even consider saying hi the next time I see him.”
"Wow, how many shots have we had tonight? You’re such an animal, Louise!”
"Shut up," Louise leaned over the table to shove Missy, and her shirt picked up some sour cream along the way.
"Awww, darn it!" She dabbed at it with some water, but the sour cream stayed, and the thin fabric soaked through to reveal her dark bra underneath.
"Hey, since you’re already feeling a little crazy, and now you have a wet T-shirt to boot, why not take this wild night up a notch?”
Louise hobbled to her feet and put her hands on her hips. “Meaning?” she asked.
"Ride the bull. Giddy-up, let's go!" Missy hooted and pumped a fist in the air as she pushed Louise toward the center stage where the bulky, mechanical beast stood idle.
"Wanna make this interesting?" Louise asked, hitching up her jeans and striking what she hoped was a fierce pose. Missy had taught her so well.
"I already find this absolutely fascinating, but what else have you got?" Missy mirrored Louise's motions and laughed.
"Fifty to whoever stays on the longest. Me first."
"You've got it."
"And you're going down, Hollywood.”
"Ha, we'll see about that!" Missy let out a full-bellied laugh as the wrangler let Louise into the padded ring and showed her how to mount the bull.
Louise clung tightly to her mount as it buzzed to life—at first slowly and then faster and faster until the entire room blurred around her. She could vaguely hear Missy’s cheers in the distance, but tried not to focus on that. Louise never backed down once her competitive side came out to play. Besides her competitiveness was the very thing that made her successful in the first place—and it was the very thing that would ensure she won this particular challenge as well.
She swung her hips in tandem with the bull and circled her fist in the air as if slinging an invisible lasso. She was Wonder-freaking-Woman. Strong, sexy, invincible.
Is this how Brady felt every time he saddled up? Because if so, then she was definitely starting to understand. There was something about facing danger—no matter how small—that felt incredibly empowering.
She closed her eyes and basked in the moment, clinging to the bull for what felt like forever—until one wild twist proved to be too much, and she toppled off and landed on the mat below.
"Ouch," she moaned as the other bar-goers cheered and the wrangler announced that she'd managed to hang tight for sixteen-and-a-half seconds.
"You were awesome," Missy gushed, rushing into her line of vision. "Hey, are you okay?"
"I'm fine… I think," Louise took a deep breath and attempted to rise, but the room still spun around her, making that difficult.
"Allow me," a man said, offering his hand.
She grabbed on without a second thought, and a moment later she was standing full and tall and face-to-face with none other than Bucking Brady Rockwell.
Chapter 5
Just one drink to clear my head. That's all I need.
Brady made his way to Jake's for the third time that week. When he wasn't on the road, the Watering Hole functioned as his second home. And he was beginning to feel like he might be in a rut.
Sure, his life was filled to the brim with adventure for those few seconds each week he was riding, but the rest of the time.… Yeah, definitely a rut.
Shelby served him up a tall, foaming glass of Kicker Session IPA from the tap and slid it over to his usual place at the bar. He hadn't even reached his stool yet when a commotion erupted from across the room.
He looked over just in time to see Weezy—his Weezy—mount the mechanical hulk of a bull. Funny how he thought of her as his Weezy when he was the one who'd gotten stuck on her. He only had a moment to appreciate the amusing sight of his high-strung sweetheart letting loose on that bull before she'd managed to slip off and cut her ride short.
He rushed to her side even though he saw her laugh and shake off the fall. Still, he needed any excuse he could get to talk with her. He needed a date, or at least closure. And he wouldn't be leaving without one or the other that night.
As he drew closer, he took a moment to appreciate her incredibly revealing outfit. The dark sequined number was definitel
y not something he'd have pictured her in before, but now that she was wearing it, he couldn't picture her in anything else.
She truly was a vision.
Louise struggled to gain a footing, but couldn't seem to lift herself from the floor. He offered his hand like any gentleman would.
"B-Brady?" She blinked, crimson blazed on her delicate cheeks.
"None other." He could have sworn that her shirt was soaked through, but he didn't want to make the same mistake he had during their last chance meeting by focusing on her body instead of her face—that face was the most beautiful part of her, after all. He saddled her with his most devilishly handsome grin, the one all the ladies swooned for.
But Louise didn't swoon. She scoffed. "I don't think so. Not after the way you talked to us the other day."
"I'm truly sorry, I am. In fact, that's part of why I came over here, to apologize. Can ya just give me another chance? Let me prove I'm not such a bad guy."
Louise puzzled over his words for a moment, and then a fire bloomed behind her normally soft eyes. "Buy us another round, and I'll think about."
"I'm sorry to say, but it looks like you've already had quite enough."
Missy chuckled into the back of her hand. "She's about three drinks past enough."
"Well, then." Louise marched up to Brady and pushed her index finger into his chest. "If you won't comply with my demands, then I won't comply with yours."
"How very lawyer of you, Weezy," Missy interjected. "But, uh, we kind of need him."
"I don't need anybody. I can do it all myself."
"What are you even talking about? Look." Missy turned to Brady. "This is all my fault. I clearly let her drink way too much, and, well, now we need your help to get home."
"No, we don't. We're fine." Louise slurred her words as she argued.
"We are so not fine. I told you before we left that I can't drive a stick, and you're way too far gone."
"We could walk," Louise insisted. "It's only a few miles."
"At night, in the pitch black, in these heels? I think not." A mischievous grin crept across Missy’s face. "Hey, remember, what you said you'd do if Brady showed up here tonight?"
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