My mom swings her arm in the air while galloping like a real-life cowgirl, whereas my dad’s cheeks burn with color. Ayden and Raquel just stare from a distance, confident they’ve missed the punchline but somewhat happy about it. They should be, the last thing I want to imagine is my parents getting down and dirty with the latest and greatest sex toys.
I was hoping a change up in equipment would revive the mojo I’ve been missing the past five months. After seeing Alex today, I realized no amount of expenditure will fix the problem. My libido he stole all those months ago when we wrestled amongst cow dung didn’t return. He locked it away for his own personal use, only allowing it to venture out when he’s grasping the reins.
Ugh!Just the thought of him having that power over me fills me with blistering anger. I’m independent, fierce, and strong. . . I just can’t get myself off anymore.
Pouting, I shift my focus back to the task at hand. From the way my dad scoots to the edge of his chair to grasp my hands in his, I assume he’s going to deliver bad news. His brows have the same deep groove they held when he told me my grandmother had passed. It’s also the same expression he wore when my beloved pet alpaca went to alpaca heaven. This isn’t a good sign. Whatever he is about to tell me can’t be good news.
After bracing myself for impact, I give him a look, wordlessly demanding for him to hit me with it. I’m as stiff as a board, my lungs are full of oxygen, and I have tears at the ready, anticipating anything but what he says next: “Alex isn’t married.”
Eight
Regan
Nerves take flight in my stomach as a heavy buzz drones into my ears. I’ve sorted the facts, divided up the pros and cons, but not once have I reached an alternative conclusion. It’s time for me to finally come clean to Isaac about Alex and his fellow FBI counterparts.
It took a bit of convincing from all members of my family to believe my dad’s confession about Alex being as single as me. I could see the truth in his eyes, feel the remorse pumping out of him, but when you’ve been lied to time and time again, trust is hard to come by.
Surprisingly, the first thing I felt upon discovering Alex is neither a husband nor a father was anger. If he had a wife, he had a legitimate excuse for the months of absence that have stretched between us. Instead, I only felt more strongly that our time together was nothing but a ruse. Then, as I continued absorbing the facts, I realized his marital status didn’t modify the evidence. He still spied on me. He took confidential documents stored on my laptop and used them against the supervisor of his department.
Although he didn’t immediately take Theresa’s place, his visit to my ranch this afternoon proves he has every intention of doing precisely that. He’s going after Isaac—my employer, business partner, and friend—and he’s not the least bit concerned about how it will impact me. If that doesn’t prove he was only with me to advance his career, nothing will.
I exhale sharply when a deep, rugged voice sounds down the line. “Hey there, Ms. Prim and Proper. How’s the cow dung smelling today?”
I smile—inwardly.I’d never let Hugo think he has one over me.
“Smelling as fresh as ever. Care to take a whiff?”
I giggle for real when he loudly gags. Hugo is one of the city slickers my daddy always warned me about. He was raised in the ‘burbs, but ran amuck in New York City. Distance has done wonders for our friendship. We’ve grown close the past five months.
“Are you still alone?”
I hear him adjust his position before he murmurs in agreement. “What’s this about? Your text wasrealcryptic. The only time I’ve been messaged to check if I am alone is when my phone is about to be bombarded with nudie pics. Are you gonna send me some nudie pics, Ms. Prim and Proper?”
I nearly reply,Ha! You wish.But after the beating my ego took earlier today, I need to have it stroked a little. “Are you opposed to the idea?”
Hugo groans. Don’t ask me if it is a good groan or a bad one because I won’t be able to answer you.
Deciding to test the waters, I say, “I’m more ayou show me yours, I’ll show you minetype of girl. So, what do you say, City Slicker, are you up to the challenge?”
I freeze when I hear a zipper being lowered. I should be shutting this down before it goes too far, but for the life of me, I can’t get my mouth to cooperate with the prompts of my brain. Hugo is a handsome man—a very handsome man—only an idiot would fake disinterest in seeing what he’s packing. And considering I’ve had my fair share of stupid moments the past six months, I’m not eager for any more.
But this. . . I’m eager for this.
My heart thuds in my ears when the ding of a text message sounds through my cell phone. I pace three steps to gather it in my hands but keep the screen facing the ground as my brain struggles to clear some of its fog.
I don’t want to see this.
I don’t need to see this.
But my ego sure does.
With that in mind, I flip my phone over to face me.
An exasperated gasp leaves my lips at the same time Hugo’s belly-clenching laugh roars down the line. He didn’t send me a picture of his cock. He posted a real-life emoji of a dick. It’s a giant eggplant sitting in the vegetable crisper of his fridge. How do I know this? He still has my half-empty bottle of wine from eight months ago sitting on the bottom shelf. He’s more of a beer and whiskey type of guy.
“You should have heard how hard you were breathing. I was about to call a medic. I thought you were having an asthma attack.”
I gag. “Whatever! I wasn’t panting. I was wheezing—in disgust!”
