Page 28 of Sinners Reunion

But mostly, I don’t want them to think I’m an absolute idiot, even if I am.

After all, I was the moron who heard “no strings” and had the audacity to think I’d be the exception. And here I am, falling back into old patterns.

No. It’s different this time. I don’t want him like that. It’s purely feral.

“What about Cat and Quinn?” I ask. “I take it they don’t agree with you three?”

“No, they think we’re being shortsighted.” Kindra grips the edge of the mattress and leans forward. “Quinn’s husband is gruff and closed off, and Cat’s boyfriend is a reformed playboy. Those girls fail to see our concerns. They are firmly in camp ‘I Can Change Him’ because they did change their men. But again . . . their men aren’t King.”

“Yeah,” Eve says. “They were still boys when they met Cat and Quinn, and they’ve matured. Well, Bennett is questionable, but you know what I mean. King is set in his ways.”

“So you don’t think he can change?” I ask.

All three women scoff, but it’s Kindra who answers me. “That man couldn’t change clothes, let alone himself. You saw him tonight, didn’t you? Aside from the eccentric leader of our cult, who wears a suit to a bonfire?”

“Honey, just be careful with your heart. That’s all we’re saying.” Eve places a hand on my thigh. “We like you, and we want you to stick around.”

“Need more members for the She-Woman Man-Haters?”

The girls laugh.

“I’m being careful, guys. Thanks for looking out. Honestly, we parted ways amicably all those years ago. I missed the sex at first, but I’ve been over that for a while now.”

Yeah, that part I’ve been over for a while, but let’s not forget how long it took to get over the loss of him.

The girls look between each other.

“I’m serious!” I muster a smile. “Now . . . tell me what you know about Blayne.”

The girls look a bit more assured this time, but as they say what little they know of the cowboy from Texas, I’m miles away in my head.

And several years away too.

Chapter Eight

King

Icreep away from Eve’s RV and head toward the fire. If steam could billow from human ears, it would bloody well explode from mine.

I slow my stomping before I reach the glowing circle at the edge of the field. I don’t want anyone asking me what has my knickers in a twist. The reason is so silly that even Jim and Maverick would laugh at me, softhearted as they both are.

Because it didn’t hurt that Frankie, Kindra, and Eve wanted to guard Josie’s heart. It didn’t even hurt when they reinforced my developing complex about the way I dress.

Actually . . . that one stung a bit, if I’m being honest.

But what nearly made me rip down the damn door was Josie’s audacity to ask about that curly-haired, dimple-chinned, lovesick puppy who eye-humps her legs any chance he has. And right after I gave her the best tongue lashing of her life, too!

I’ve a right mind to take the lad into the woods and castrate him. I worked on a ranch for a summer in Essex. It would take me no time at all.

No. No. Wouldn’t be right.

I should take the cock and the balls.

I chuckle to myself, my mood slightly lifted. It’s risen enough to approach the lot of blokes gathered by the fire, anyway. I start up the small hill and take in the group as the ground levels out.

Ice Pick has his shirt off now. A beer sits atop his belly, balanced like a magic trick. He belches and swipes the spittle from his mustache.

I grimace.