Country Kisses (3:AM Kisses Book #8)(17)



All I can think about the entire livelong day is the fact Cade James is out to disprove the fact he’s nothing but a taker.



Evening rolls around, and I shower and shave in all the right places, lotion and potion up until I’m one in the same with a field full of strawberries just this side of heaven. Piper comes in with that silly grin she falls asleep with nightly after her “special time” with Owen. I don’t know why that girl hasn’t taken up residency in his apartment yet. I wouldn’t blame her in the least for wanting to wake up with that big boulder of a man ready and willing to gift her all of his rock-hard attention—not that I believe in shacking up. That’s just not the way I was raised, but I do believe in true love, and I know for a Bible-thumping fact that both Owen and Piper are a forever kind of deal. Now, I don’t necessarily believe in what I’m doing either, but as far as I’m concerned, I’m just headed over to pay a visit to the down-and-dirty James so he can make good on that favor he owes me.

“Look at you!” Piper’s eyes round out with what I’m hoping is a lot more awe and a lot less horror as she takes me in from head to foot. I’ve tucked myself into a short white sweater dress with my thigh-high creamy boots rising to meet the hemline. “Where the hell do you think you’re going dressed like that?”

“None of your business.” I pull on my snow-white wool coat that hugs my curves like a second skin and quickly dab on a little more nude color to my lips. I was about to go for my traditional gloss, but I have no intention of gifting him sticky kisses. Lord knows I’m about to take a generous bite of that city boy’s big apple. No need to scare him off with suction cups for lips.

I reach over and pick up the pièce de résistance, my granny Mimi’s rhinestone barrette with a sprinkling of garnet stones creating a half-moon over the top, and clip it next to my ear. “There.” I give myself a tiny bow in the mirror.

“You’re going to see him again, aren’t you?” She folds her arms over her chest with the hard tone of disapproval coming through loud and clear. “Oh my shit! You’re seeing this person!”

“No, I’m not.” I’m quick to refute it. “I’m not seeing anyone. I’m headed to a study group for my marketing class.” Sort of true when you think about it. So, what if we’re going to have a rather moaning, groaning study sesh until about three in the morning? It’s nobody’s darn business, especially not his irate baby sister’s, pouting like a two-year-old before me. “You know I’m all about getting into business for myself. I need to take these things seriously.” I continue to primp mercilessly in the mirror, sweeping a brush full of powder across the left side of my face again and again as if it were the exact soothing rhythm I needed to fixate on to get me through the rest of this night. “I plan on hitting the ground running come graduation.” Something else is about to come long before graduation—and that would be me.

“Sounds fine and dandy.” She gives an exaggerated shrug. “Too bad it’s only half the truth.”

I smirk at the pied Piper herself. So, what if it’s just half the truth? Who is she to refute what I say?

Piper reaches over and envelops me in nice, firm hug. “Whoever this guy is, he’d better be worth it. If he breaks my best friend’s heart, there will be hell to pay. I’ll make sure of that myself.”

“I’m sorry,” I whimper into her shoulder. That’s about as close as I’ll ever get to an admission.

“Sorry about what?” She pulls back to get a better look at me and wipes a lone tear from my eye.

“For all those mean things you force me to say about you.”

“Please.” She clicks her tongue. “I’ve never heard a single one of them.”

“That’s because they’re all in here.” I tap the side of my head as I run out the door.

“Get out of here, you tramp!” Piper howls with laughter as she shouts after me. “You’d better run, or I just might follow you!”

Holy crap. I hightail it as fast as I can and jump into my car. I do an extra revolution around campus just to make sure any of my well-meaning besties aren’t in hot pursuit en route to keeping vaginal tabs on yours truly before I head over to Cade’s. I park a half-block away, under the shadowed protection of a one hundred-year-old acacia tree and take a deep, cleansing breath before I open my door.

My mother always says, you can never be too safe or too sorry. I’m pretty sure her country wisdom wasn’t bottled up to be poured out on the night I drive over to sleep with a boy just for the fun of it. But that boy has a debt to pay, and there’s not a soul on the planet who can stop me from collecting.



Cade James’s rental home is small, quaint, I believe the word in the real estate world is, and cozy. That’s what my momma has done for the last sixteen years in the time post-Daddy— sell quaint, cozy houses to young couples not too much older than myself who can hardly afford to keep them. And that is how the American dream works, she laments whenever she closes a sale by the sweat of her penciled-in brow.

My hand trembles midair as I’m about to either knock or run like hell. For a brief second, I envision what Caila might do. I know some people envision what the Almighty would do in any given situation, but I’ve all but programmed myself to think about the things my gutsy sister would make happen, especially whenever it comes to the penis-wielding gender.

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