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“I plan to collect, sweetheart. Really soon.”
CHAPTER 13
Beck
IT’S BEEN TOOdamn long.
The following week, I forced myself to go out, though I hadn’t been in the mood at all. But one look at Chelsea Redmond in the two-piece dress she had on, her nipples piercing through the silky material of the top, and I was glad she’d been persistent.
She took the seat next to me at the bar after returning from the bathroom and leaned to whisper, “The way you were just watching me. It looked like you want to skip dinner.” She gave me a sultry smile. “We can do that, if you’d like.”
I’m definitely getting laid. Thank fuck.
Not that I’d doubted Chelsea would be up for it. We’d gone out a few times before, and every time the evening ended the same way—with me back at her place. But I had started to worryIwouldn’t be up for it.
I hadn’t been in the mood lately. Well, that’s not entirely true. It was more like I hadn’t been in the mood to have sex with anyone else. My right hand had been there for the task plenty of times in recent days—twice yesterday after Nora had posted videos on her blog of her riding a horse at the ranch she and my grandmother were visiting.Up and down. Up and down.Fuck, I couldn’t think about that now or I’d wind up needing to use the men’s room. Plus, it was a dick move to do that shit while I was out with Chelsea.
The hostess walked over, letting us know our table was ready. I was glad, because Chelsea hadn’t been kidding about her offer.
“Are we staying?” she said.
I took her hand and yanked her from her seat, wrapping her in my arms. “Yeah, I’m gonna feed you first,” I whispered in her ear. “You’re going to need the energy later.”
Chelsea rubbed her tits against me and preened. “I can’t wait.”
Once seated, we ordered a bottle of wine, and I listened to stories of all the famous people she’d met since the last time I saw her. Chelsea was a flight attendant on a private airline that catered to Hollywood types. I wasn’t much into celebrity gossip, but I nodded along and tried not to let my mind wander too much. She was in the middle of some story about a musician who threw a hissy fit because they didn’t have the right brand of sparkling water when my cell buzzed on the table.
It was face down, but I glanced over at it. Not too many people would text me on a Friday night at nine o’clock. My brother, Jake, maybe—though he’d more than likely be out partying by now. So I flipped my phone over.Noraflashed on the screen.
It’s probably just another video or some pics of Gram.Nora was the absolute last person I should’ve opened a text from on a date. I’d been having enough trouble getting her out of my mind since I’d returned from the Bahamas.
I’m not going to open it.
Focus on your date—the ready, willing, andveryable woman sitting in front of you.
I dragged my eyes back to Chelsea, to the creamy skin on her delicate neck, and all of the things I would be doing to it in a few hours. But then my cell buzzed again. And I couldn’t stop myself from staring at Nora’s name.
This time, instead of giving me a pass, Chelsea gestured to my phone. “Do you need to get that? Who’s Nora?”
I didn’t want her to feel bad, so I used the truth to my advantage. “Sorry. She’s the woman traveling with my grandmother.” I realized I’d never told Chelsea that my grandmother was sick, or even that she was the woman who’d raised me. We didn’t have that type of relationship. So I added, “My grandmother has some health issues.”
“Oh. I’m sorry. Why don’t you get it then?”
Great. Now I had the woman I should be paying attention to urging me to check in with the one I shouldn’t befocused on. I shook my head. “Sorry. I’ll just be a minute.”
I swiped my phone to find a few pictures—my grandmother in a cowboy hat on a horse, my grandmother swinging a lasso around her head while standing in a pen with a steer, some shots of her laughing and roasting marshmallows around a campfire—but it was the last picture that stopped me in my tracks. Nora sat on a wooden fence, wearing black fringe chaps and a matching cowboy hat. Her smile stretched ear to ear, and I couldn’t stop staring. I was a little annoyed when Chelsea interrupted.
“What are the pictures of?” she asked.
“Just some pictures of them riding horses and stuff. They’re at a ranch in Montana.”
“I thought you said your grandmother was sick?”
I had said her health wasn’t good, not that she was sick. But I also didn’t feel like explaining or sharing what was going on. “Looks like she’s feeling better.”
Chelsea smiled. “Oh, that’s great. Can I see?”
My brows drew together.
