Diary of a Bad Boy(110)

Lifting his glance from the ground, he peers at the service coordinator and looks back at us where he flips us the middle finger. Maddie and I both chuckle, while he shakes his head and laughs as well.

“How much time does he have left?” Maddie asks, popping a grape in her mouth.

“Five minutes.”

“Wow, that went by fast.”

“When you have nice eye candy to stare at, time flies.” I take a slice of cheese and nibble on it, still staring at Roark, mainly that perfect ass wrapped in dark jeans.

“He is quite good-looking,” Maddie looks him up and down. “When did he get that tattoo?”

“He’s had that since I’ve known him.”

“Huh.” She eats another grape. “I guess I’ve never seen him without sleeves, but then again we just survived the wintery tundra of the East Coast. Does he only have the forearm tattoo? Nothing on his ass?”

“No.” I laugh. “Just the one. I remember the moment I saw it for the first time—talk about a huge turn-on. I wasn’t expecting it, then all of a sudden, he had this dark ink wrapped around his right forearm. It did all sorts of things to me.”

“I can imagine. It’s doing all sorts of things for me now.”

“Hey.” I playfully swat at her. “Stop ogling my boyfriend.”

“I have to ogle something.” She sighs. “Think Roark wants to hook me up with someone?”

“That’s really not my kind of thing,” his voice booms above us. When did he get there? I swear he was just over by that tree.

He takes a seat next to me, pulls me between his legs and wraps his arms around my midriff.

“Hey,” I say over my shoulder as he presses a kiss to my cheek.

“Hey you.” He nuzzles the side of my ear before saying, “All that heckling got you into some serious trouble.”

“Oh, I can’t wait to find out what kind.”

“Ahem,” Maddie clears her throat. “Can you not do that while I’m right here? Also, why won’t you set me up with someone?”

“Rath is single.”

Roark shakes his head. “Rath is not single. Technically, he might not be with someone right now, but he’s completely wrapped up in his ex. That would be doing a disservice to Maddie.”

“Damn.” She snaps her fingers in disappointment. “I heard he has these penetrating eyes that cut right down to your very soul.”

“You said that to her?” Roark asks, pulling away to look at me.

I smile shyly. “I mean, he’s hot and intimidating, kind of a lethal combination.”

“And what am I?”

I snuggle into him. “A giant Irish cuddle bear.”

“Christ,” he mutters behind me, as I laugh.

“Seriously though, don’t you have any single athletes you work with?” Maddie asks. “I like sports.”

“Not going to happen.”

Her eyes light up. “So, you do have some single clients. Who are they? Let’s plan out a meet-cute.”

“It’s not really a meet-cute if you plan it,” I say.

She waves her hand at me. “He doesn’t need to know that. Come on, Roark.” She nudges his foot. “Introduce me. I’m drama free, love a good laugh, and appreciate muscles. I make my own money, so no need to be worried about a gold digger, and I’m very bendy and open to things”—she wiggles her eyebrows—“if you know what I mean.”

“Unfortunately, I do.” He scratches the side of his beard, giving her idea some thought. “Still not going to happen.”

“Ugh,” she groans but then makes eye contact with me, an evil glint in her eye. “We’ll see about that.”

“I don’t like the look in her eye,” Roark says to me. “Should I be worried?”

“Very.”





“How do your balls not hurt?” Roark asks my father as they ride side by side on their respective horses. Roark has found an attachment to Grammy, even though she still bucks him off every time he first gets on her. He’s become accustomed to a proper dismount.

“They get used to it over the years.”

Roark shifts. “I’m afraid I’m never going to be able to give you grandkids if you keep forcing me to take these rides along the property.”

“Planning on kids already?” Dad asks as I lean in an ear, wanting to hear Roark’s answer.

He glances in my direction and then back at my dad. “Yeah, I’d like six.”

“Six?” I shout, startling my horse that I quickly calm down. “You want six kids?” My poor uterus.

“Why not. The more the merrier, right, Foster?”

“Six sounds like a great number.”

Of course both the men would think six is a great number. They’re not the one carrying them for nine months and then pushing them out.

“What about two?”

“Four,” Roark counters.

“How about a ring first?” my dad cuts in.

Roark laughs and says, “All in good time, old man. How about we get through your last season first and see where I am with that girl over there. Who knows, things might change.”