Diary of a Bad Boy(73)

And knowing that she’s in the next room over, yeah, I didn’t get one ounce of sleep last night and it’s why I’m up before the sun this morning.

Up before the sun . . . that’s a term they use here on the ranch. I think they’re branding me, and for some reason I’m okay with it. An Irish cowboy, not sure how popular that is, but I think I could pull it off, as long as I can wear my own non-cowboy boots and a beanie. Then I’m good.

The rebel cowboy, I can go along with that.

Roark





ROARK





Fuck, I’m sore.

All the pent-up tension from not being able to touch Sutton, the withdrawal from cigarettes, and the countless hours I’ve spent doing manual labor around the ranch, is coming to a head this morning as I move around my room getting ready for the day.

After I took a shower, I watched the sun rise from my bedroom window, hands propped behind me on the bed, wishing Sutton was next to me enjoying the view, but knowing the way she sleeps—ostrich position and all—I’m guessing she wasn’t up early enough.

Campers are supposed to arrive between ten and noon today. I’m to help with registration and guide anyone who needs help finding their way around. I also get to wear a neon-green shirt and hat, so . . . that’s fun.

Jeans on, I reach for my shirt as a light knock sounds against the door. “Come in,” I say, only to see a freshly showered Sutton slip past the door.

A smile gracing her lips, she tiptoes toward me and presses her hands against my chest, then slips them up to my neck where she brings me down for a kiss. I drop the lime-green monstrosity and cup her generous ass in my hands, pulling her in even closer.

Wearing her tight-fitting jeans and a camp shirt, she looks natural but breathtaking. She doesn’t need all the frills like makeup and curled hair. Fresh from the shower, cheeks a little pink, wet hair, she’s stunning.

Slowly she pulls away but not before pecking a few quick kisses.

On a sigh, she takes a step back. “I should have waited to kiss you until after we were back in the city.” Her hands glide down to mine where they lace together. “Because now that I’ve had a taste, it’s going to be torture not being able to have more.”

Tell me about it.

“We can always meet up in the barn for a roll in the hay.”

“Have you ever done that?” she asks, a crinkle in her nose, but a knowing glint in her eye.

A little shocked I ask, “Uh, I’m the one who should be asking have you ever done that country girl?”

“Not really, but I have been topless in the hay before, and it doesn’t feel good.”

“Please tell me you were having a topless party with your girlfriends and you weren’t with a guy.”

She chuckles. “Think what you want.” She looks behind her and sighs. “I should get downstairs and help out.” She eyes the shirt on the bed. “You’re going to look so good in that. I gave you one size smaller so it’s all tight and clingy to your muscles.”

“Did you really?”

She nods. “Even if we weren’t together by today, I guaranteed myself a nice view to make it through the next few days.”

“And then were your plans to torture me with that shirt in the hallway again?”

“Maybe.” She bites her bottom lip.

“You know”—I push her hair over her shoulder—“you look all innocent and sweet but on the inside, you’re sinful.”

“Don’t be giving away my secret.” My phone rings on the nightstand, and she takes that moment to part. “I’ll see you downstairs.”

I walk over to my phone, but watch her ass sway as she walks away. God, I can’t wait to get her naked again.

“Hello?” I answer the phone, not even looking at the caller ID.

“Mr. McCool, it’s Darcy.” I glance at the time, noting it’s nine in the morning in the office. What would Darcy be calling me for?

“Hey Darcy, what’s going on?”

“I’m sorry to bother you but something came up with Xavier Memphis’s contract, and we need you in the office. He’s freaking out.”

Fuck, Xavier plays baseball for the New York Bobcats, and we’re in the midst of figuring out an extension on his contract. Very high-profile, one we can’t afford to mess up—well, can’t afford for him to lose out on the contract.

“What’s going on?”

“Something about the jersey royalties not being approved. I’m getting calls from both Xavier and The Bobcats. He’s been to the office two times already this morning, demanding to see you.”

“Shit.” I push my hand through my hair. “Okay, let me figure out what to do. I’ll give you a call. Tell them you’ve been in touch with me, and I’ll get back to them shortly.”

“Okay. Thank you, Mr. McCool.”

I hang up and reach for a black shirt out of my suitcase. Looks like I’m going to have to wear the neon-green shirt for Sutton another day.





Roark: Landed and in the car. Thanks for the plane.

Foster: Anytime.

Roark: And about the community service, I’ll make it up. I promise.

Foster: I have no doubt you will. Get Xavier straightened out. We don’t want him crying in the dugout again.