Page 12 of You Know You Wanna

Laurene and I still had weeks left to spend here, which meant that I had to steer clear of the attraction I felt toward that woman. As much as my body wanted me to do something about it, I was here to spend time with my daughter and to try and fix an investment that was going bad.

That was it. I couldn’t let my dick take the wheel, so I kept my eyes to myself and sipped my beer, but all the while, it felt like I could feel her stealing glances at me, and I sighed.

Ignore it, Ford. You are not a slave to your baser instincts. No matter how long it’s been since those instincts have been satisfied.

6

BIRDIE

While Gracie tended bar, I sat on a nearby stool, singing along with James under my breath and nursing a particularly strong Mai Tai. Maybe it was just the alcohol, but as I watched Remington settle in a few stools down from me, I wondered what was wrong with him.

He was obviously wealthy and handsome in a sort of intimidating way. He had an aware, intelligent little girl. They were here for the whole summer. It seemed to me he had everything going for him, and yet, he looked so damn closed off and sad.

“Asshat alert,” Gracie said as she slid up to the bar opposite me. “Surprisingly, he’s drinking tap beer. I didn’t expect him to partake in what I’m sure he sees as swill.”

“I don’t know, but I think we might’ve jumped to conclusions about him. How can someone so rich be so unhappy?”

“So you think it’s unhappiness rather than just straight up snobbery?” she asked, her eyes narrowed skeptically. “You’re too kind to people, always looking for the best in everyone. Trust me, that guy will probably be a great orgasm donor, but don’t go looking for more than that with him.”

“I’m not looking for that with him either,” I insisted, glancing at him before shaking my head at her. “Even his daughter is moping around, hating every minute of what could be a very fun summer vacation. I just kind of feel bad for both of them, you know? I have no idea what it must be like going through life so miserable, but it must be…”

“Miserable?” she finished for me when I trailed off.

I laughed, nodding my agreement before glancing at him again.

Gracie noticed, reaching across the bar to nudge my arm. She inclined her head toward him. “You should go talk to him. Maybe it’ll make him feel better to have some positive energy in his vicinity for a change. Something tells me he doesn’t get a lot of that.”

“Something, huh?” I teased. “Could it be the stick up his butt or the permanent scowl on his face?”

I decided I would do it, though, standing up.

She arched an eyebrow at me. “You’re really going to talk to him?”

“Why not? You’re right. Maybe he could use a friend.”

“A friend or a friend?” she asked, waggling her brows suggestively.

I walked away without having to have the same conversation about how he hadn’t been checking me out and reiterating that I wasn’t looking for a hookup.

Sitting down next to Remington Ford, I couldn’t help but notice just how damn big he was. Well over six feet tall and built like a truck with wide shoulders and a broad chest, he was a presence, alright.

“Hi,” I said, trying to inject a little extra sunshine into my tone.

Nursing a beer instead of one of the colorful concoctions Gracie was known for, he simply grunted a response and didn’t even bother to look at me. Irritation rose up from within my soul. I knew this guy was rich. It was right there in his expensive designer clothes and that ridiculous sports car he drove, but that didn’t give him the right to be so rude and dismissive.

“What is your problem, dude?” I asked him straight up, and this time, there was no sunshine in my voice.

Clearly surprised by my bluntness, he actually laughed. Until that moment, I hadn’t been sure the man was capable of laughter, so that was a good sign.

He finally jerked those pretty blue eyes away from his drink and looked at me. “Why do you think I have a problem?”

I lifted my hand and started counting things off on my fingers. “You’re brash, rude, and dismissive. Your eyebrows are constantly pinched like you have a stomachache. You never smile back at anyone. In short, you’ve been extremely unfriendly since you arrived, and that makes me think that there’s some kind of problem in your life that you’re taking out on everyone around you.”

“Are you trying to be insulting?” he asked, amusement dancing behind those eyes.

The man seemed to like it when I was mean to him, and even weirder, I kind of liked it too. A thrill ran through me at the idea of bossing this big angry man around. In a perfect world, I would order him to carry me to bed, and we wouldn’t leave until we both had smiles on our faces.

I had thought he was good-looking when he was scowling and shut off, but he was downright breathtaking like this. Not the point, Birdie. That’s really not the point.