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“I need to talk.” His tone is low and aggravated. What the hell?
“So… talk.”
“Privately.”
“No.” I stand from the couch and fold my arms over my chest. “Whatever you have to say, you can say it in front of my friend.”
He laughs under his breath and looks toward the door, hooking his thumb into his jeans before looking back. There’snothing this man does that isn’t sexy. Everything about him is enthralling. The way he talks, the way he stands, the way heis.
I remind myself that he’s clearly more than looks, though the ache between my thighs tells a difference story.
“I’ll come back when you’re alone.” He turns back toward the door and steps out onto the porch.
Lainey stands. “It’s okay. I’m on my way to the bar, anyway. I need a drink.” She looks toward me and moves her lips in an exaggerated fashion.‘He’s so hot! Fuck him!’Pleased with herself, she grins and turns away.
Sometimes I wonder how the two of us became friends. I’m not sure if it’s because she grew up around money or if she’s really completely clueless. Either way, things like leaving your friend alone with a giant demanding attention goes right over her head.
When the door closes, Atlas takes off his Stetson and sits on the recliner opposite me. “Where are the kids?”
“You planning to murder me or something?”
“No. I told Jackson I’d look at hisStory Botpicture.”
“That’s why you needed to talk with me alone?” I roll my eyes and grab the pie off the windowsill, carrying it into the kitchen. “The kids are with their grandparents. They’ll be back Monday. You want a slice with me?”
I swear he smiles, but it’s hard to tell, given I’ve never seen him offer a genuine grin. “I could eat a slice, sure. You make it yourself?”
“I make everything myself, Mr. Laskin. What’s the deal? Why are you inside my house?” I set the dish on the counter, pull down two plates, and slice into the warm pastry.
“I came to know you better.”
My brows wrinkle. “You needed to interrupt a visit with my friend, so you could know me better? Aren’t you supposed to be working on the roof?”
“Did I interrupt? I think she was leaving.”
I set the pie in front of him, telling my body not to react when my bare arm brushes against his. “What’s this about… really?”
He groans under his breath and stares toward me before taking a bite of pie. “This is good. Really good.” For some unknown reason I get off a little knowing I’ve pleased him in some way. That’s probably the same part of me that thought it was cool to lie to everyone and become a stripper for the weekend. That part of me needs serious mental help.
“Good.” I nod. “Again, why are you here?” I round to the opposite side of the table and sit in front of the pie, taking a bite for myself. It did turn out well. The crust is crisp, the apples are firm, and I nailed the cinnamon to sugar ratio. The cranberries I added work well too. I was worried they’d be too tart, but they really kick up the overall flavor profile.
“I got a call from a guy at The Barnyard. He says to come at seven tomorrow night.”
Heat covers my cheeks and spreads down my neck.Oh my God. I didn’t delete the number. Why didn’t I delete the number from his phone or get rid of the search history? What was I thinking? Sloppy! I’m too sloppy to do something like this. Rick is going to find out, and the kids will grow up thinking their mother has no morals. God… I need help!
“Okay, thank you!” I stand and set my plate in the sink. I’ve barely eaten the pie, but I don’t care anymore. I just want him to leave. “Is that what you came to tell me? I appreciate it.”
“Nope. Not really.” He leans back in the chair. “I mean, it was, but then it got me wondering why a girl like you was dancing in a club.”
“A girl like me?”
“Yeah. You seem to pride yourself on doing everything exactly right, so I’m surprised you’d do something so… tawdry for cash.”
“Look, it’s an honest living, and I didn’t ask for your opinion.”
He takes another bite of pie. The fork looks like barbie utensils in his hand. “What happened between you and your ex?”
I laugh and lean against the counter, crossing my arms in front of my chest. “What are you doing?”
