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“Did you not once think that maybe you should’ve run it by me before you dragged half of Hollywood out there?”
“No, as a matter of fact—” Her voice was cut off by the fabric of her shirt as she yanked it over her head. Cole looked away from the sight of her bare breasts.
“As a matter of fact, it didn’t occur to me, because it’s not your ranch. You don’t own it. Hell, you don’t even live there. So, no. It didn’t once occur to me that I needed your permission. Asshole.”
With that, she stalked out of the apartment. His door hit the wall and bounced back so hard that it closed. Cole wanted to go over and open it again, just so he could slam it himself. Instead, he had to be satisfied with the convulsive bang of her door slamming.
It had been her.
Her.
She was the one who’d done this to him.
He was breathing so hard he felt as if he’d just run a mile. He was an idiot. Getting involved with a woman like her. He should have known better. He had known better.
“Shit!” he roared. He wanted to punch something, but the last thing he needed was a broken hand on top of this broken leg. For once, that wasn’t hurting. He was too fucking pissed to feel anything. Except the rage.
He paced to the door, then across the living room. He rolled his shoulders, trying to slough off the weight that had settled there. But he couldn’t budge it. It felt like the air was pushing in on him. The walls.
Cole grabbed his shirt and his keys and walked out. And he finally got to slam the door. Somehow, it didn’t make him feel any better.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
THERE WAS ONE LINE OF GROUT above the tub that was whiter than all the others. Grace knew this because she’d been standing in the shower staring at it for the past fifteen minutes. The room got steamier and steamier, but that one line still glowed white. A repair, maybe. Or just a defect.
Which brought her back to her life.
“God,” she groaned, rubbing her hands over her face.
She’d taken a shower when she’d gotten home last night, but she’d hoped another long, hot shower this morning would clear the confusion from her head. So far, nothing. And she had to get to work soon.
Work. At the same pla
ce where Cole Rawlins worked.
“Great. Another superintelligent move, Grace Barrett.” What the hell had she been thinking, sleeping with a cowboy?
“A girl like you,” she muttered. That’s what he’d called her. A girl like you. How had he dared to throw something like that at her after he’d had sex with her?
She’d known. That was the worst part. She’d known he’d only wanted her because she was different and dangerous. Known he’d wanted to have sex with her even though he’d avoided driving her all the way to the ranch. The sex hadn’t had anything to do with liking her. It never had anything to do with liking her.
Which was fine. Just fine. Because she’d taken what she wanted from him, hadn’t she? She’d gotten off. Twice. That was a lot better than most one-night stands. And hell, as badly as it had ended, even that wasn’t the worst post-sex exit she’d ever suffered. So screw it.
“Screw it,” she assured herself, turning off the shower. Whatever his problem was, he could deal with it. She had work to do, and she’d be damned if she’d let some oversexed cowboy mess up her plans. She had a lot more riding on this job than her feelings.
It took ten minutes to do her makeup, and another ten to dry her hair and work in a tiny bit of her dwindling supply of styling product. She got dressed in the last of her work-suitable outfits and was out the door with ten minutes to spare. Thankfully, she got no glimpse of Cole on her way out.
Unthankfully, Shane was coming down the stairs as she locked her door.
“Morning, Grace,” he drawled, tipping his hat.
“Shane,” she said without inflection. Had Cole told him already? Bragged about banging the new chick? It was fine if he had, she just didn’t like not knowing. And Shane wasn’t giving anything away. He simply dipped his chin and strolled out the front door. He seemed like a nice enough guy, but she couldn’t tell what he was thinking and that left her on edge.
At least Cole seemed honest about what he felt, whether that was lust or disdain. Though at the moment, on her way to a place where he’d be, that seemed less like a benefit.
Maybe she wouldn’t be needed at the ranch site today at all. Or maybe Cole would be out on the range, or something.
While she was waiting impatiently for the bus to arrive, her cell phone rang. Merry’s name popped onto the screen and made her smile.
