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“Cute, Red. But, I’m not going anywhere,” he says stubbornly. He’s grinning at me and crosses his arms as if he’s daring me to make another move. He really doesn’t know me well enough to wave a red flag in my face.
But I guess he will.
“This is your last warning,” I tell him, giving him my best smile—mostly because dealing with him makes me happy. Damn it.
“Open the door, Red,” he orders, sounding amused himself.
“I will as soon as Brock gets here,” I tell him, grabbing my phone that’s plugged into a charger on the counter.
“Who the fuck is Brock? Another boyfriend?” he growls.
“Another? I thought you just admitted that Heavy was my brother and not my boyfriend,” I huff. “How can Brock be another boyfriend?”
“Okay, fine. Who in the hell is he?”
“The police chief,” I answer, my voice overly sweet, dialing the phone.
“You call the police on me, Red and I’ll spank that thick ass of yours,” he warns, his voice dropping down so that it literally drips sex in the tone.
Asshole.
“What did you just say to me?” I squeak, wondering if he has a death wish.
“I said if you call the police on me that I’m going to spank you,” he says, laughing.
“Not that, you asshole! You called my ass thick! Who does that? That’s insulting.” I’m kind of screeching at him at this point. Okay, so I do like my ice cream, and doughnuts are always nice, but it’s not like I’m horribly out of shape. I’m never going to be skinny. I happen to like my ass—well, most days.
“What are you getting your tits all knotted up over?”
“You really are an idiot,” I mutter.
“Finley? Is that you? Finley?”
Shit.
For a minute there, I forgot I dialed the phone and had it in my hand. I got derailed when the guy that grudgingly turned me on called my ass thick.
“Damn it, Sarah, I’m sorry. I…” How do you tell someone you forgot you called, even while holding the phone?
“Is everything okay, Finn?” Sarah asks, obviously worried—and I mean, why wouldn’t she be?
“Can Brock come out, Sarah? There’s a guy at my door demanding I let him in,” I finally explain.
“Red, damn it!”
“Do you know him?”
“No, he just got in town today,” I answer. I look at the annoying man who is currently looking less and less happy by the second.
“You need to hang up that phone and tell Sarah to forget you called. If you’re even truly talking to anyone,” he warns.
I ignore him.
“Brock is out at Ryan Oakley’s ranch. He and Lorelei are having a little trouble,” Sarah murmurs and I know she’d love to gossip, because Sarah lives for that, but I ignore her. I have a grumpy biker outside my door and gossiping is the last thing I want to do.
“Hope it’s nothing serious,” I murmur, wondering what my next move is going to be before Stud, here, forces me into action. I can’t let him in. I’m grown up enough to admit I want him and probably wouldn’t be able to resist him. Fortunately, I’m also grown up enough to admit that falling into bed with him would be a bad, freaking move.
“Nah, those two need to just go ahead and get married and make babies and get it over with,” she laughs.
“Red, quit being a bitch and open this door.”
“Oh my, he sounds a tad pissed,” Sarah says, and I know she’s fishing for information. That’s the bad part about having the town gossip working in the police station.
“Not really. He just got into town,” I repeat, because apparently she didn’t listen the first time. “He’s part of Larry’s club. He seems to be fixated on me,” I sigh, wishing that irritated me more than it excited me. “It’s so late that I don’t want to wake up Larry. I was hoping maybe Brock could send him on his way.”
“Red,” Keys growls, sounding way too relaxed.
“I’ll get him on the radio and have him come out that way. Though, girl, if you want my advice—”
“Sarah,” I mutter, because I know what she’s going to say.
“He sounds hot. Maybe you should let him in. Lord knows the single men in Sweetheart are getting snapped up like flies at a Venus flytrap convention,” she laughs. My forehead furls as I try to picture a room full of flies with a bunch of insect-eating plants. Sarah should come with a warning sign. She definitely can make your head hurt. I decide to just explain it to her in terms that even Sarah would get.
“Sarah, he said my ass was thick,” I confess—doing it loud enough that Keys can hear me.
“He did not! That’s so rude. I mean, you can stand to lose a few pounds…”
What in the hell, Sarah? Where’s the sisterhood? I don’t call you on the fact your boobs sag down to your knees!
