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Like most Saturday mornings, I woke up with a major headache and absolutely no idea of where I was. I opened my eyes just a little to try and locate myself and winced at the clarity slipping in from around a set of curtains. Silently, I cursed aging.
Although I looked better than most twenty-five-year-olds, I could no longer drink like them. Five shots of whiskey were enough to fog up my brain to the point where I had to put some actual effort into remembering things. It was annoying as fuck, but I refused to cut back and drink like the thirty-eight-year-old I was. In my mind that was giving up which didn’t mesh with me.
I didn’t give up, I didn’t give in, and I didn’t compromise. I got what I wanted, when I wanted, and how I wanted. That was how I had managed to turn the sad, run-down ranch my Dad had left me into the largest and most expensive ranch-resort in the state, and became a millionaire before I was thirty.
As my eyes started to adjust to the light, I took deep breaths and looked around. The first thing I saw was a blonde head using my arm as a pillow. Our mutual nakedness made it clear that we had an interesting night, but aside from a fantastic blowjob inside my truck, I couldn’t remember much. That seemed to be a rule with my one night stands lately, and, in all honesty, it didn’t bother me too much. I was in the market for instant gratification, not something to remember.
Moving my gaze away from the woman, I looked at the room in search of my way out. The walls around me were light green and loaded with pictures frames of various sizes. The drapes and the furniture were stark white, and there were three identical doors; two placed side by side and another directly to my right. Internally, I groaned. I hated places where the exit wasn’t obvious. It made it a lot harder to sneak out unnoticed the next morning - which was my preferred way of saying goodbye.
As carefully as I could, I rolled the woman off me and turned to the side to get up. Before my feet hit the ground, however, thin, pale arms circled my waist, and a kiss was delivered to my bare back. Annoyance gripped me at the display of affection. Cuddling and sweet kisses were meant for people who gave a fuck, not for strangers like us.
“Good morning, Conner,” she cooed in a sleepy tone that was infused with a smitten smile.
I couldn’t help wonder how the fuck she remembered my name when I had absolutely no idea what hers was. Still, because I tried not to be a complete ass, I looked over my shoulder and, for a moment, she took my breath away. Even with her makeup smeared and a bird’s nest on her head, she was gorgeous. So gorgeous, in fact, that I almost wanted to remember her—emphasis on the almost.
With a smirk, I whispered. “Mornin’, baby.”
Completely unaware that I had used the pet name because I had nothing else to call her by, her smile widened and got all mushy. Her innocence was cute and made my smirk turn into a smile as I pushed myself to a sitting position, knotted my fingers, stretched my back and then got up.
“If you want the bathroom, it’s the door closest to the window,” she said in that same sleepy coo once more. “But don’t take too long. I’m in the mood for eggs and sausage for breakfast.”
Once more, I looked over my shoulder at her with a smirk on my lips. From my vantage point, I got my first—mostly—sober look at her body. Her tits were full and as beautiful as her face. My exposed cock instantly reacted and, for a second, I considered breaking all my rules and fucking her sober and in daylight. Luckily, my eyes drifted to the alarm clock on her bedside table and seeing that it was almost ten in the morning, I came back to my senses.
Picking up my pants from the ground and shrugging them back on, I told her, “Can’t, baby. Got someone waitin’ for me at home.”
Her face went pale ad she quickly sat up and brought the sheet to cover her tits. “You’re married?”
I shook my head and forced my smile to stay in place. “Not anymore,” I informed her but offered no further explanation. There were only two people in the world with whom I discussed my late wife, and she was definitely not one of them. “But I do have a son, and Saturdays are our horseback riding days.”
Her expression softened. “Aww . . . That’s adorable.”
I raised a brow and nodded as I shoved my feet back into my boots. I picked up my shirt from the ground and waited for the follow-up comment I knew would come.
“I love kids, and I’m a really good rider, ya know?”
“Yeah, I do,” I replied in a playful tone that made her giggle. Then, I added, “But I’m not introducing you to my boy.”
Her delicate brows pulled together in a frown. “Why not?”
I took a deep breath hating that she was putting me in the position to be a jerk. Honestly, being rude to women wasn’t something I enjoyed doing. However, it pissed me off that some never seemed to understand that opening your legs for a man you’ve met at a bar doesn’t equal an invitation into his life, and that was precisely why I loathed the morning after. They were awkward, unnecessary and served no purpose other than to ruin a perfectly good time.
“Well I don’t mean to sound like a dick, but I don’t introduce my son to people who won’t be permanent in his life,” I explained with a sigh. As I buttoned up my shirt, I saw the girl’s expression change into something that resembled an angry bull and took that as my cue to leave. “Last night was fun, thanks,” I said as I walked to the door to my right.
Angry shrieks calling me every name in the book echoed from the room as I stepped into the hallway and closed the bedroom door behind me. Frankly, I was used to it by now so I just guided myself down the stairs and out of the front door like everything was just fine. In my mind everything was fine. It wasn’t my problem that others couldn’t see things my way.
Once I was finally inside my truck, I filled my lungs with my first full breath of the day and picked up my phone which I had forgotten on the dash. I checked the screen to see if there were any calls or texts from Sasha, my son’s nanny, and was happy I didn’t see any. What I did see, however, were eleven missed calls and one text from Alex, my best friend.
The time stamps on the calls were mostly from the previous night, but the text had been sent at nine-thirty this morning which was odd. Alex rarely ever woke up before ten on the weekends. I quickly opened it.
‘FUCK CONNER! CALL ME BACK.’
The caps and urgent tone were also unusual to Alex, and they made a worried line form between my brows. From my side vision, I saw the blonde’s front door open and cranked up my truck hoping to be gone before she came out looking for me. As soon as I turned the corner, I connected my phone to the Bluetooth system and called Alex. He picked up after two rings.
“Halle-fucking-luiah! I’ve been calling since last night.”
“I just saw it, but I was phoneless and busy. What’s up?”
“A favor,” he said.
