Page 19 of Pretty Little Scars

After finishing the last swallow of beer, and resigning myself to not having any orgasms tonight, I ask Ivy for a glass of water and watch the hockey game playing on the TV behind the bar. Ivy has also paused in her scurrying around to watch, and when Xander Hendrix makes a goal, she jumps up and down and claps her hands.

“That’s what I’mtalking about,” she hollers and high-fives her coworker.

“Are you a Denver Flurry fan?” I ask her.

“I’m a Xander Hendrix fan,” she admits, and her face flushes bright red. “Can’t help it, I grew up with the guy.”

I smile at her, loving her enthusiasm. I get it, it seems all the Hendrix brothers are hot. I have to spend all day, every day with one.

“He’s impressive.”

Ivy flushes again, but turns to stare at the screen, as if she’s soaking up any glimpse she can get of the hockey star.

“Good job, X,” she mutters.

So, I stay and watch the game with Ivy, and once the Flurry have won 4–1, I decide to pack it in for the night and go home to my vibrator.

Sad.

Except, I’m not really sad. I’m kind of relieved because I don’t have to hold my breath and pretend that letting a guy touch me is worth the orgasm hemightgive me.

On my way out the door, a man I hadn’t noticed before smiles at me and says, “Can I talk you into staying for one more drink?”

He’s handsome. At least six feet tall with dark blond hair and a nice smile, and before I started working for Tucker, he might have done the trick.

Now? He does nothing for me. Zip. Nada.

“Thanks for the offer, but I’d better head home,” I reply with a polite smile.

He doesn’t argue. Instead, he cringes. “I should have asked earlier. Drive safe.”

“Thanks.”

See? He’s perfectly nice. Good looking with big hands. Probably not horrible in bed. What in the hell is wrong with me?

I drive back to the ranch, still feeling sexually frustrated but also relieved, and being keyed up the whole time I was at the bar means that I’m tired now. I park in front of the cabin, but instead of walking inside, I circle around to the back and am surprised to find the firepit already roaring with a fire and Tucker sitting in his chair.

And just like that, all the tension I’ve been carrying melts away.

“What if I didn’t come back tonight?” I ask him as I sit in my seat. I like the warmth of the fire, but I like being in Tucker’s soothing presence more.

His green eyes shift to me, and he watches me for a long moment before answering. “Then I would have sat by the fire by myself and missed your company.”

God, he’s swoony.

I flinch as I shift in the seat, reminded that I rode a horse for the first time this morning, and of course he catches it.

Tucker doesn’t miss much.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, just stiff. Not used to riding a horse.”

He nods. “I bet you have a salve for that.”

With a laugh, I turn to face him. I’d rather look at him than the fire. “You know, I do. But I think a bath with some Epsom salts will do the trick.”

Tucker frowns. “Your tub is tiny. It’s not really a soaking tub.”