Unbreak My Heart (Rough Riders Legacy #1)(13)

I stared at her, thankful for the bizarre turn in the conversation. “Burn-out factor for his…dick?”

“Yep.”

“Is that even a thing?”

Lu nodded. “It’s why I’m not in a relationship.” She drained her margarita. “I’m a dick connoisseur. I like ’em all—fat, thin, long, short, wide, thick, cut, uncut, ruddy, smooth. There are so many colors and sizes, how can I limit myself to just one? And when I think about all the dick I’ve sampled, I feel a little slutty. I begin to think maybe I should try and settle down with the one dick that fits me above all others.”

“You’re comparing your va-jay-jay to a glass slipper? Find the ideal fit and you’ve got a dick you can commit to?”

“Exactly! But how will I find the prince of all penises if I’m not actively looking?”

I couldn’t fault her logic. And if she wanted a different dick every night, who was I to judge? “Your plan to prowl for the perfect pecker is plausible.”

“Now who’s the alliteration queen?”

I stood, putting an end to the discussion. “I’m hitting the pool for a quick swim before I decide whether to make another pitcher of margaritas or whip up a batch of white chocolate chip macadamia nut cookies.”

“Count me out for the booze. I have a quiz tomorrow and I have to study.”

“I don’t miss doing homework.”

“I won’t miss it either, but not everyone can get a bachelor’s degree in three years.” Lu hip-checked me as she passed by.

My reflex to correct her dried on my tongue. I’d finished my degree in three and a half years, partially from taking the basic classes at the University of Wyoming during my senior year of high school, partially because I’d grown up Gavin Daniels’ daughter. I CLEPed out of a shit ton of general business classes. And Dad accused me of not paying attention to him.

Right before I submerged myself in the pool, Lu said, “We’re not done dissecting this dealio with Boone, S. Because it’s not going away.”

Seemed to be a theme in my life today.





Déjà vu day two.

Cooling my heels in the reception area, waiting for Sierra to grant me an audience.

Restless as f*ck but pretending to be chill.

The magazines stacked on the glass coffee table didn’t interest me.

I hadn’t bothered to try and charm the snippy receptionist after she played the “do you have an appointment?” game that I couldn’t win.

Yesterday I’d dressed to impress—not in a suit, but in casual clothes that broadcast my laid-back, yet professional vibe. I’d skipped that shit today. The trick to breaking down the wall Sierra had built between us was to show her that I hadn’t changed. Remind her of the worn-jeans-and-T-shirt-wearing guy she used to know.

Finally, Sierra’s office door opened and she sauntered toward me.

I immediately stood. Sweet Jesus. She f*cking rocked business casual. The black dress sculpted the curve of her breasts and her torso, hugging her hips. The bottom flared out above her knees, drawing attention to those long, shapely legs. She hadn’t worn heels and I loomed over her by a good three inches.

“You didn’t used to be this much taller than me.”

I shrugged. “I grew a few inches after high school.”

“You showing up again today is part of your ‘I’m a burr’ plan to waste my valuable time?”

“You dismissed me yesterday before you let me get to the reason I’m here.”

She folded her arms across her chest. “So this isn’t a social call?”

“No, ma’am. I am here on business. And I’d rather discuss this in private.”

Her suspicion remained when she tersely said, “Follow me.” Wheeling around, she headed back to her office.

That ass. Man. I followed her swaying hips and managed not to be focused on her backside when she faced forward to rest her butt against the front edge of the desk. She didn’t even invite me to sit. “So you’re here on business?”

“Yes.”

“What kind of business are you in the market for?”

Dirty business, funny business, monkey business, me giving you the business. I told the twelve-year-old boy inside me to shut the hell up. “I’d like you to show me apartments, condos and house rentals for an army friend who’s moving here.”

She studied me. “You don’t have the first f*cking clue about what my job entails at Daniels Property Management, do you?”

One minute in and I’d already screwed up. “Kyler said you were in real estate.”

“So naturally you thought I was a…real estate agent?”

Do not answer, dumbass. Do not even nod your f*cking head.

“Was that why you were impressed with my corner office?”

“Clearly I screwed up in that assumption. So please enlighten me about what you do.”

Without breaking eye contact, Sierra reached behind her for a business card and flicked it at me.

I flipped it around, hoping the text didn’t swim. Big, bold black letters on a cream background read: Sierra McKay

Executive Vice President

Commercial and Industrial Property Expansion Specialist Daniels Property Management