Reckless(19)

As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I’m worried I offended her, but the smile she gives me is brilliant and wide and more than a little mischievous. “Don’t think I don’t know this.”

Shaking my head again, I start to close the door. “Night, Tasmanian Devil.”

She snickers. “Night, Wolverine.”





10





Tori





Lying in bed, I wonder why I flirted with him tonight. In the moment, I didn’t think it was that flirty. I’ve said worse things to my friends.

But Ethan isn’t a friend.

He’s my employer, and sexting is not what you discuss with an employer. I guess I am an HR nightmare.

I was half asleep, and he looked so damn cute with his baseball cap on backwards and that sweet expression he gets when he’s talking about his kids. And the way his t-shirt stretched across his broad chest, showcasing his tattoos, made my mouth water.

I can’t explain why, but I wanted to yank his chain and see how he took it.

Yank his chain. Ha. I’d definitely love to yank that.

Wait. Noooooo.

Hell, no.

I squeeze my eyes shut to get him out of my head.

I cannot get a thing for this guy. No way. Is he even divorced yet? And didn’t I throw down the gauntlet the other day with the “no sex ever” conversation? Not to mention I’m not his type.

Is there an AA meeting for this sort of thing, attraction to unavailable men? Because I definitely should look into attending.

After my breakup with Jamie, I researched a woman’s sex drive and found an interesting article that said the more you fed your libido, the more you craved sex, so I figured if I starved the damn thing, the need might disappear. Abstaining from sex sounded reasonable at the time. But now, a year into this endeavor? Now I want to be touched and cuddled and fucked until I can’t walk straight.

This is worse than that dumb carb-free fast I tried in high school, which resulted with me stuffing my face with every biscuit, muffin, and tortilla I could get my hands on for three days straight when I finally caved.

With a groan, I kick off the covers, flip on the bedside lamp, and look around my room. Most of my stuff is still in my apartment in Austin, so I don’t even have the one, no-frills vibrator I didn’t throw out last summer. If I acquaint myself with the deluxe shower head I noticed in my bathroom, will I wake everyone up?

Ugh. Not worth it.

Stay strong, Victoria.

Whimpering, I flop back on the bed and cross my arm over my face. At least when I was waiting tables and bartending, I had daily—hell, hourly—reminders of how hot guys were dirtbags. But here, stranded with Mr. Sexy-As-Fuck Farm Boy, I sense the thrill of the chase toying with my resistance, especially now that I’m seeing Ethan’s not the giant asshole I assumed he was when we first met.

I mentally flip through this last year where I really only did two things to keep my mind off Jamie—I worked and cooked. Maybe I can use that as an outlet here. Not only is cooking for the kids something I’ll enjoy, more elaborate meals wear me out, so I shouldn’t have an ounce of extra energy to lust after their dad.

The buzz of an incoming call interrupts my wallowing, but when I see the name on my cell screen, I groan. I love my best friend Vivian, but not the way we always seem to get in trouble when we’re together.

An all-girl Catholic high school did nothing to tame the two of us. If anything, it made Viv and me rebel more when we were younger, and college only made us wilder. But we haven’t hung out in ages, and I’m starting to feel guilty about it.

“Why aren’t you at my party?” she asks, without preamble. A thumping bass punctuates every other word. She must head into a quiet room, because the music fades to a low roar.

“I didn’t know you were back from South Padre.” I don’t bother explaining that some of us have to work for a living. She “works” for her father, but he’s always letting her set her own hours.

Yawning, I try to follow what she’s saying.

“Wait. Were you asleep? At nine p.m.?”

“Got a new job. Sort of.” Everything with Ethan is so up in the air, I don’t know if he really plans for me to be here the entire summer. Or if I want to be here that long. Except there’s no other way I can be as close to Kat if this doesn’t work out.

I give Viv a brief rundown of how I came to be the newest employee at Carter Cutting Horses.

“Have you fucked him yet?” She chews ice in my ear.

“Fucked who?”

“The dad. He sounds hot, and you’ve always had a thing for assholes.”

“Of course I haven’t fucked him. He’s my boss.” And he’s not really an asshole.

“Never stopped you before.”

I sigh, feeling the exhaustion of my past bulldoze over me. “I never slept with any of my bosses.” People only think I have because I run with friends like Val. Sure, I’ve had plenty of hookups, and yes, I love sex, but I have a morality clause—no bosses or guys who’ve dated my friends. As soon as you bang someone’s ex, you’re headed for crazy town, and I have enough of that in my life without chumming the water.

“Really?” She sounds disappointed.

“I swear.”

“Jamie wasn’t your boss?”