beans into a pot.
“So I’m no chef,” he muttered. “Maybe the diner is more your style.”
“Shut it.” Eyeing him, I moved over slightly, and turned down the high flame under the pot, took the spoon from his hand and set it aside.
He turned his head to look at me, but didn’t relax the tense set of his body.
“Ask.”
“Ask what?”
“Whatever you want to. About Matt, about whatever.”
“You don’t owe me any explanations.” Jim reached for the spoon, but I moved it out of his reach. “Taylor…”
“Yes, I slept with him. I needed to eat.” My face flushed hot. Jim didn’t look at me, but his fingers flexed on the handle of the pot, and a ripple of greater tension snaked through his muscles. “He was good to me, Jim. It was my idea but he didn’t use me any more than I used him. It was a onetime thing. We knew that going in. He didn’t ask me to stay, and I didn’t offer.”
“I didn’t hire you to be a fuck toy,” he said. “I shouldn’t have—”
“I know.” I risked touching him, laying a hand on his back. The muscles were rigid, hard as granite and I couldn’t help a little sigh. “I acted like a whore. Again.” I moved off to lean on the soft arm of his couch. “It won’t happen again.”
My chest ached, but I forced the words out. I wanted him. He didn’t want me. It was too complicated, and for the first time, I couldn’t just let it go. He hadn’t approached with any more aplomb or promises than any other cowboy who wanted something from me, so what was the difference? In less than a day, it should be impossible that I care so much what he thought of me. But I did, and now, I had to sit across the table from him, choke down warmed beans and pretend none of it mattered.
What the hell were you thinking, Matt? Sending me here. What the fuck were you thinking, Taylor? Letting him fuck you.
Supper was awkward. We worked together to get the couch turned down quickly and in silence. Once I was settled, he disappeared into the bedroom, closed the door, and a second later, I heard the lock snick into place.
Hollow me out with spoon, why don’t you?
I lay on the lumpy mattress, physically aching and mentally exhausted, and stared at the criss-cross of rafters above.
“Fuck me.”
But then, they had, two guys in one day, and they obviously had something between them that I stepped in the middle of. I doubted I would be able to wash the stink off long enough to figure out what was going on.
I didn’t remember falling asleep, but a shrill jangling woke me with a heart-stopping fright. I sat up as Jim came barrelling out of his room in just his boxers, and snatched a phone off a wall hook near the door.
“What?” his sleep-gravelled voice rumbled through the room, shaking some of the sleep out of my head. It was still dark, but turning grey around the edges as dawn sneaked towards the horizon.
“What the hell do you want?” That sounded more bear-like than sleepy.
I curled my legs up to sit cross-legged and take some pressure off my back. Two nights on pull out couches was not helping after the manhandling in the shower, the hard work, and six months sleeping scrunched in my Jeep.
“Hang on.” Jim turned to glare at me. “Onetime thing…” He jerked the phone at me. “It’s for you.”
I got up, took the phone, and he stormed off to his room. The door slammed hard, shaking the walls behind him.
“Geez, Taylor, I’m sorry.” Matt’s voice came apologetically over the line as I put the phone to my ear. “I guess something…I was right, huh?”
“Right about what?”
“Never mind. Listen, I called because someone stopped by the diner a few minutes ago. Tall guy, big, kind of… Anyway, he asked about you. I didn’t like the way he looked. I thought I should let you know.”
“Brown hair and eyes? Nose a bit crooked?”
“Yeah.”
“Luke Driscoll .” A cold shiver left me numb. “What’d—”
“I didn’t tell him where you were! God,
“So I’m no chef,” he muttered. “Maybe the diner is more your style.”
“Shut it.” Eyeing him, I moved over slightly, and turned down the high flame under the pot, took the spoon from his hand and set it aside.
He turned his head to look at me, but didn’t relax the tense set of his body.
“Ask.”
“Ask what?”
“Whatever you want to. About Matt, about whatever.”
“You don’t owe me any explanations.” Jim reached for the spoon, but I moved it out of his reach. “Taylor…”
“Yes, I slept with him. I needed to eat.” My face flushed hot. Jim didn’t look at me, but his fingers flexed on the handle of the pot, and a ripple of greater tension snaked through his muscles. “He was good to me, Jim. It was my idea but he didn’t use me any more than I used him. It was a onetime thing. We knew that going in. He didn’t ask me to stay, and I didn’t offer.”
“I didn’t hire you to be a fuck toy,” he said. “I shouldn’t have—”
“I know.” I risked touching him, laying a hand on his back. The muscles were rigid, hard as granite and I couldn’t help a little sigh. “I acted like a whore. Again.” I moved off to lean on the soft arm of his couch. “It won’t happen again.”
My chest ached, but I forced the words out. I wanted him. He didn’t want me. It was too complicated, and for the first time, I couldn’t just let it go. He hadn’t approached with any more aplomb or promises than any other cowboy who wanted something from me, so what was the difference? In less than a day, it should be impossible that I care so much what he thought of me. But I did, and now, I had to sit across the table from him, choke down warmed beans and pretend none of it mattered.
What the hell were you thinking, Matt? Sending me here. What the fuck were you thinking, Taylor? Letting him fuck you.
Supper was awkward. We worked together to get the couch turned down quickly and in silence. Once I was settled, he disappeared into the bedroom, closed the door, and a second later, I heard the lock snick into place.
Hollow me out with spoon, why don’t you?
I lay on the lumpy mattress, physically aching and mentally exhausted, and stared at the criss-cross of rafters above.
“Fuck me.”
But then, they had, two guys in one day, and they obviously had something between them that I stepped in the middle of. I doubted I would be able to wash the stink off long enough to figure out what was going on.
I didn’t remember falling asleep, but a shrill jangling woke me with a heart-stopping fright. I sat up as Jim came barrelling out of his room in just his boxers, and snatched a phone off a wall hook near the door.
“What?” his sleep-gravelled voice rumbled through the room, shaking some of the sleep out of my head. It was still dark, but turning grey around the edges as dawn sneaked towards the horizon.
“What the hell do you want?” That sounded more bear-like than sleepy.
I curled my legs up to sit cross-legged and take some pressure off my back. Two nights on pull out couches was not helping after the manhandling in the shower, the hard work, and six months sleeping scrunched in my Jeep.
“Hang on.” Jim turned to glare at me. “Onetime thing…” He jerked the phone at me. “It’s for you.”
I got up, took the phone, and he stormed off to his room. The door slammed hard, shaking the walls behind him.
“Geez, Taylor, I’m sorry.” Matt’s voice came apologetically over the line as I put the phone to my ear. “I guess something…I was right, huh?”
“Right about what?”
“Never mind. Listen, I called because someone stopped by the diner a few minutes ago. Tall guy, big, kind of… Anyway, he asked about you. I didn’t like the way he looked. I thought I should let you know.”
“Brown hair and eyes? Nose a bit crooked?”
“Yeah.”
“Luke Driscoll .” A cold shiver left me numb. “What’d—”
“I didn’t tell him where you were! God,
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