Текст книги "Can't Resist Him"
Автор книги: Molly McLain
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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 14 страниц)
Chapter Eight
Early Sunday afternoon, Brody’s text still echoed in Jenny’s head. I’m not the man you the you think I am... What did that mean exactly? Was he hinting at what Reed had told her Friday night or was there something more?
A hundred different questions whispered in the back of her mind as she did a quick pick-up around the house, even stripping her bed of all its comforter and sheets and throwing them into the laundry room to wash, lest she be tempted to break her own rules on their very first date.
Gah. Was this even a date? All she knew was that he’d called this morning to make sure she had winter boots. That’s it. He wouldn’t tell her what he planned for them and, by the time his truck tires crunched through the snow in her driveway just before one o’clock, she was on pins and needles, wondering.
Blowing out a nervous breath, she met him at the front door with a smile. “You found me.”
“I did.” He waved as he made his way up the freshly shoveled sidewalk, looking ruggedly hot in heavy winter boots, jeans, and a black and camouflage hoodie. He even wore a black stocking cap, just like all the other Nebraskan farm boys in the winter, but on Brody, the look was downright panty melting.
Considering she had on her biggest, oldest pair of granny undies that was no small feat.
“Nice place you’ve got here.” He climbed the front steps and glanced around the big yard, littered with apple trees, and down the length of the modest, ranch style house. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it was hers and the fact that he liked it made her inner peacock preen.
“Thank you. I bought it from my aunt and uncle when they retired to Arizona a few years ago. Come in.” She pushed open the screen door and waved him in, where he again took everything in, nodding appreciatively at her simple, but carefully chosen decor. Her plush caramel-hued couch with its pink and crème throw pillows. The coffee table she’d bought at a garage sale and refinished herself. Even her sewing machine and the quilt that sat half finished beside it.
“Yep, I totally dig this. It’s very homey. Very you.” With that, he dipped his head and stole a warm, gentle kiss that sent shivers racing down her spine as the heat spread throughout her body. “Hey,” he said when he was done.
“Hey,” she said back, breathless, one hand hitting the wall behind her for support as she literally swooned.
He grinned. “You good?”
“Uh huh.” Maybe she should’ve left her legs unshaven, too.
“Great. You got your boots ready? We should probably get going.”
She pointed to the pair beside his feet on the entrance floor and dropped to the bench to put them on. “Maybe you should tell me where we’re going. Since you’re as bundled as I’ve ever seen you, I assume we’re going to get cold. I might need long underwear or something.”
Another ovary-quivering smile split across his face. “As sexy as that would be, I think you’ll be fine. Eventually.”
“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”
He shook his head, his mossy eyes sparkling. “Nope. All you need to know is that I’ve taken care of everything.”
Hmm. “So mysterious.”
To that, he winked. Five minutes later, she climbed into his truck, feeling like a giddy teenager. She and Reed hadn’t gone out in years and Jake, the last guy she’d actually dated, preferred that she do all the planning. Never once had he taken the initiative on his own.
“I hope you’re hungry,” Brody said as he started the engine and the new Shinedown song pulsed through the cab. “Shit, sorry about that.”
God, she loved that adorable blush on his face. “You’d hear the exact same thing if we got into my car right now.”
“Yeah? You like it hard and loud, too?”
She snorted and his cheeks went from pink to red.
“Good to know we both have the same twisted sense of humor.”
“Well, it is the best kind to have.” She buckled her seatbelt as her stomach growled. “You implied there might be food?”
“Yep, and I might’ve gone a little overboard.”
“Good, because I’m a lot hungry.”
***
He could’ve taken the expected route and asked her to a late lunch at one of the local restaurants, though he figured that wouldn’t have made for a very memorable date. But as he pulled to the shore of a frozen-over Sugar Lake, he second-guessed what he had been sure was a grand slam idea.
“Um, I probably should’ve asked if you’re one of those people who won’t go out on the ice.” He glanced over at Jenny, her fingers clutched around the edge of the seat and her face as white as the snow covering every surface around them.
She nodded quickly. “Yeah, maybe.”
Shit. “I’ll just grab everything from the fishing shanty. We can head back to your place to eat.”
“No.” She said the word adamantly enough, but she remained just as frozen as the wide, ice-covered expanse before them. Given the late season, only a half dozen portable shelters dotted the flat plane. Tony’s sat just left of the center, with no neighbors for several yards, hence, Brody’s initial excitement in bringing Jenny out. They could hang out all afternoon without a single interruption. Maybe they’d even catch some fish.
“It’s okay. I...I can try,” she added, her pretty neck working as she gulped. “You’ve already walked out there, right?”
He nodded. “A couple times. There was a lot of stuff to carry.”
She shot him an apologetic frown, complete with a timid nibble on her lower lip.
“I’m not trying to make you feel bad. The fear is real. I get it. I’m happy to shift gears and rethink what clearly wasn’t the kickass idea I thought it was.”
A small smile replaced her nervous one. “It’s a totally kickass idea. I just happened to have an irrational fear of dying a miserable, icy, blue-faced death. I mean, have you seen Titanic?”
“Um...can I plead the fifth on that one?”
She laughed and slowly let go of the seat to unbuckle her belt. “Do you promise I won’t die?”
“Uh...”
“Oh, God.” She slapped a hand over her mouth as realization flashed in her eyes. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“I know.” Shit, I know. “And unfortunately I can’t promise you that. I can, however, vow to do whatever it takes to make sure you don’t end up like Jack Dawson. If you’ll trust me.” He wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t. Hell, she knew more about his shortcomings than most.
“I trust you.” Her warm fingers closed around his and squeezed. “Maybe hold my hand?”
He grinned, because oh yeah. “I can definitely do that, sugar.”
***
“This is actually kinda cozy.”
“Thank God you don’t mind small spaces. I was really starting to question my judgment.” Brody fussed with the portable heater, cranking it on high and positioning it so it pointed directly at Jenny. He’d also given her the more comfortable built-in seat, while he sat on an upturned bucket. Between them sat a small cooler and thermal bag with their lunch.
“Nah, I think you’re safe. The piggy back ride was a nice touch, too.” She bumped her shoulder into his and smiled. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“The hell I didn’t. Did you see the look on your face when your feet hit the ice? No, you didn’t. Why? Because your eyes were clamped shut.”
She threw her head back and laughed. The infectious sound filled up the tight quarters of the shanty, making him really glad he’d gone this route, even if it had started out a little rocky.
“How about we eat first and fish later? Unless you don’t want to stay that long.” He quirked an eyebrow as he dug the plates and utensils from a bag next to the jig poles and lure he bought before he left North Platte. He had all the same stuff at home in Omaha, too, but maybe he could leave everything with Jenny. Maybe they’d use it again someday.
“Now that you got me out here, we might as well make the most of this.” She winked and held the dinnerware while he pulled out the food and set it up on top of the cooler. Shaved prime rib, fresh rolls, creamy potato salad, some kind of pasta with olives, and apple dip with chunks of chocolate and caramel. “You weren’t kidding when you said you went overboard.”
“I’ve also got beer and hot cocoa.” He lifted a thermos with a modest smile. A guy had to be more than prepared when he was trying to impress a lady light years out of his league, and the pleased grin on her face made it all worthwhile.
She chose cocoa and they made small talk about his visit with his grandpa in North Platte while they ate.
“Wait—you mean he actually went up on the roof?” Jenny’s mouth slacked open and her pretty eyes went wide.
“Yep. Had a quarter of the snow shoveled, too. Hard to believe he’ll be eighty-two in a few months.” He popped the last of his sandwich in his mouth and sighed. “So you’re the creative type, huh? You do hair by day and sew by night? I saw the machine in the living room.”
“I wouldn’t say I’m creative, I just like to do things with my hands. Unfortunately, I spent most of my time at the salon, so I don’t quilt as often as I’d like. I did get some squares cut yesterday, though. That was awesome. It’s like therapy for me. Totally cathartic.”
“Baseball and fishing are that for me.” Neither of which he’d done in...hell, he couldn’t remember. Too damn long, that’s for sure.
“Is that why you chose to come out here today?” she asked quietly, stirring her fork through the little bit of potato salad left on her plate.
His first instinct was to deny it, but he caught himself before he acted on a habit he’d become too used to. That was the one thing he’d taken away from his sessions with Dr. Sherman—owning up to his insecurities rather than pretending they didn’t exist.
“Maybe? I guess I didn’t consciously think about it, but...” Last night sucked. And tonight he’d back in Omaha, further away from her, with no clue when he’d see her again.
“Well, let’s eat dessert and get to fishing then.” She smiled brightly and, not for the first time, her acceptance hit him hard. Did she genuinely care or was she just telling him what she thought he needed to hear?
“You go ahead. I cleaned up all the meat, so I’m good.” He stifled a burp...unsuccessfully, and she laughed. “Excuse me. God, I’m batting a hundred today, aren’t I?”
Just like that, she stopped spooning the apple dip onto her plate and turned to him, her brow furrowed. “I know we’re technically in the early stages of our friendship, but I don’t feel like I’ve just met you. Honestly, it sorta feels like we’ve known each other forever.”
That. A million times over. “Yeah. It’s crazy, but I’m with ya.”
“Then do us both a favor, okay?” She paused and he nodded. Hell, he’d do just about anything for her...already. “Keep it real with me. Just like you were in Vegas and just like you were earlier when you brought me here. I want to know you, Brody—not the guy you think you need to be to keep me interested.”
Goddamn, she knew where to land a punch when she wanted to, didn’t she?
“Come here a second. I want to tell you a secret.” She crooked her finger at him and like a moth to a flame he leaned in. Her breath fanned against his cheek and he shivered, her warmth a pleasant contrast to the chilly air around them. “I’m already interested, Superman.”
***
With a dozen bluegill in their bucket, Jenny and Brody called it a day on the lake. They packed up the remaining food and Tony’s portable shanty, and with lots of deep breathing, Jenny made it off the lake on her own two feet.
Brody turned his truck into her driveway just before six o’clock and she hated that he had such a long drive ahead of him.
“If you didn’t have to work in the morning, I’d ask you to stay.” Resting her head against the passenger seat, she turned to face him.
“And I’d take you up that offer. Unfortunately, I’ve got to be in St. Louis by tomorrow afternoon.”
“More driving?” Now she really felt bad.
“Some. I’m working this job with a few other guys, so we’ll switch out behind the wheel.” He shut off the engine and sighed. “I wish I didn’t have to leave. Spending the week with you would be a hell of a lot more fun than tolerating those assholes.”
She smiled. “What’s the project this week?”
“Doing some prep work for a big gas line expansion project this summer,” he grumbled. “Not quite as interesting as making old ladies feel like a million bucks.”
“Are you teasing me? Because I’ll have you know the old ladies are my favorite clients. They don’t tip worth a damn, but they have the best stories.”
“Yeah? Like what?”
“Can’t tell. Hairdresser code of ethics and all that.”
He dropped his head back against the rest and laughed. “I bet you hear a lot of shit.”
“See a lot of it, too. You know I run a full service salon, right?”
He shot her a raised eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“Put it this way—the ladies in Cameron County sure like their jewelry.”
Eyes wide, he asked, “You do piercings, too?”
“No.” This time she laughed. “I don’t do them, but I see them. A lot of them. While I’m waxing.”
Brody launched forward in the seat, his inner teenage boy coming out in full force. “Are you kidding me? You wax other chicks?”
She giggled again. “It’s not as exciting as it sounds. Believe me.”
His eyes darkened and he groaned. “Not gonna lie, Jenn, that’s a fucking hot image.”
“Somehow I knew you’d say that.” She rolled her eyes and nodded toward her front door. “Walk me in?”
They barely made it to the porch before he pulled her close and buried his face in her hair. Likewise, she wrapped her arms around his waist and burrowed into his hoodie. Sucking in a deep breath, she held it, locking his now-familiar scent into memory.
“Text when you get home?” she asked, her voice muffled.
“Yes, ma’am. It’ll be late though. You okay with that?”
“More than okay. I want to know you made it safely.”
“You don’t need to worry about me, sugar.” He rocked them from side to side and she closed her eyes, savoring his big arms around her.
“It’s my thing. The consummate caregiver.”
“Let me guess—if waxing beavers didn’t work out, you’d have been a nurse.”
She laughed until her knees went weak and Brody had to hold her tighter yet, though he wasn’t much help because he shook with laughter, too.
“I should’ve never told you,” she said, wiping at her eyes. “You’ll never take my job seriously again.”
“Oh, you’ve got it all wrong, sugar—I have a whole new appreciation for what you do.” His hands slid from her lower back to her ass, pulling her hips against his. Unless he had a stick of dynamite in his jeans, he wasn’t lying.
Mmm, so tempting. Her pulse picked up and everything that made her feminine began to warm in response. Her hips rolled of their volition and he pushed back, the thick, taunting length of his erection pressing into her belly.
“Brody,” she moaned, her fingers winding tight into his sweatshirt. God, how she wanted him stay. “You should really go.”
“I know.” His breath was hot against the side of her face, as his lips brushed from hers to her ear, and then to the spot behind her jaw that always made her lose her mind. “Just making sure you don’t forget me.”
“I won’t.” God help me, I won’t. She clung to him harder, coming up on her toes to give him better access, despite her warning. She felt his smile against her skin before the hot, wet flick of his tongue sent shivers racing down her spine. He played, licked, and nuzzled until she turned into a panting, groping pile of jelly in his arms.
Would it be so bad to give into him just one time? What if she never saw him again?
“When you go to bed tonight,” he rasped, “I want you to think about all the things I’d do to you if I stayed. I want you to touch yourself like I would, loving every last inch of your body until you can’t take it a second longer. Make it my face between your thighs, sugar, and be sure it’s my name on your tongue when you cry out into the night, because one day soon I’m gonna want to hear it for myself. When that time comes, I want to know it’s me you’re thinking about, not some selfish prick who never deserved you in the first place.”
Before she could conjure up a coherent thought that didn’t include fuck me now, he brushed one last kiss across her lips and was gone.
She stood on the porch watching him leave, with her silly heart hammering in her chest and her greedy sex pulsing with arousal. She was wet. So, so wet from just his words that it wouldn’t take more than a minute to find the release he’d taunted her with.
But it wasn’t his wicked tongue that fueled the fires of her needy soul—it was the promise that he’d be back.
Chapter Nine
“Mark’s got his money on Vegas, but I say it happened in the fall when he came to town for Josh’s discharge party.”
Polish brush in hand, Jenny shifted her focus from the foot in her lap to her best friend’s waggling eyebrows. No matter how cute and innocent Ally looked with her burgeoning baby bump and cheery, pregnancy glow, the statement still stung.
“I’ve done a lot of questionable things in my life, but seeing two guys at once isn’t one of them.” Assuming, of course, that seeing meant dating and not screwing, because unfortunately she had done that. In one night. At the same time. With some not so reputable guys. Shudder.
Ally’s face fell as she realized what her wager implied. “That’s not...I didn’t...shit. Sweetie, I know you’d never do that. My inner bitch, however...I think she might’ve been trying to concoct some kind of revenge on Reed.”
Now that was funny. “And just like that you’re forgiven.” She wiggled one of Ally’s toes and went to work finishing the polish.
“Thank God, because I’ve been dying for the details since Nicole texted me this picture on Friday night.” Ally turned her phone around and an image of Jenny and Brody standing in Josh’s driveway filled the screen. His hands in her hair and her tongue in his mouth left little question about what they were doing, though she supposed she owed her long-time friend an explanation since the last she’d shared about her love life had been her departure from Reed.
“One, I can’t believe Nicole spied on us. She comes off so sweet and unassuming, but she’s really just as evil as you.” Leaning back quickly, Jenny dodged a hard nudge from Ally’s already-dry foot.
“Just for that, you should know that it wasn’t just Nicole—all of them watched. Even Reed.”
Ugh. “Yeah, I know. We shared a few words about it afterward.”
“So was it Vegas then? Mark said something about seeing Brody there.”
Nodding, Jenny put the finishing touches on the last toe and rehashed the story about meeting him at the bar and then him ending up in her room.
“But you didn’t sleep with him,” Ally reiterated, her eyes narrow, like she couldn’t quite believe what she’d heard.
“Nope. Well, wait—I guess technically we did sleep together, but we didn’t have sex. Or even kiss, for that matter.” She shrugged and capped the polish.
“This is the guy who gave Tony condoms for his birthday, right? The totally hot jokester?”
Hot was an understatement. “Yep, and underneath all the funny, he’s actually a pretty intense guy.”
“That’s usually how it goes. So did you nail him on Sunday, then? Please, God, say yes. My second trimester hormones are kicking in and all I think about is sex.”
Jenny laughed. “Sorry, but you’ll have to get your fix from your husband. Brody and I just talked. It was...nice.” Really, really nice.
“So you’re telling me that all you did was chit-chat in a fishing shanty. In the butt-ass cold. On a frozen disc of ice that could have given way at any time.” Ally blinked disbelievingly.
“That pretty much sums it up, yes.”
Her oldest friend shook her head, her red ponytail swinging. “I don’t believe it.”
“What don’t you believe? That I’ve kept up my resolution this long?” Jenny laughed like it was no big deal that even her best friend didn’t have faith in her. Much safer to erect her defenses than give into the ball of emotion gathering in her throat. “Yeah, I’m surprised, too. I mean, you’ve seen Brody, right? Totally fuckable. Maybe next time I see him.”
“Jesus, Jenn, why do you do that?” Ally climbed down from the pedi chair and pulled up a stool beside her. “We both know you’re not really the slut you claim to be. That’s just a bunch of self-protective bullshit you feed yourself so you don’t have to deal with the fact that the guys you’ve slept with have been complete assholes.”
“Yeah, I sure know how to pick them, don’t I?” She rose, tossed the wet towels into the laundry bin, and brought the pedi supplies back to the cupboard.
“No. Don’t you dare take that on. Guys are good—damn good—at making us believe they’re gonna be our very own version of Prince Charming. It’s in their stupid DNA. Fuck or fail or whatever the hell that biological motivator is that makes them think they need to spread their seed far and wide.” Ally got up and followed Jenny into the back room of the salon, her determination kicking into overdrive. “You like this guy, don’t you?”
Jenny nodded with her head down and hands gripping the edge of the counter. The thing was, she’d liked a lot of guys before. She’d even convinced herself that a few of them had liked her, too. But after the sex, they always left. Always. Reed and Jake were the only two who’d come back more than once and, in the end, they’d left, too. Kinda gave a girl a complex. Made her wonder if the entirety of her destiny consisted of being the town whore turned crazy, reclusive cat lady.
“What makes him different?” Ally asked softly, reaching out and smoothing Jenny’s hair over her shoulder.
“I don’t know that he is different.”
“Maybe you haven’t noticed, but you’re a smokin’ hot chick, and he slept in the same bed as you without making a move. Either he’s different or he’s gay.”
Jenny smiled. “He’s definitely not gay.”
“Really? How do you know that?”
No way was she sharing the details of their mini-makeout session on her porch. “Let’s just say he’s made it pretty clear that he’s attracted to me. Which is why I’m not sure if he’s just trying to get into my pants or if he’s legitimately into me. I mean, I am an awesome lay. He’s probably heard the rumors.”
Ally snorted. “I’ll let that one fly because it was funny, but that’s the last time you get to say shitty stuff about yourself. Got it?”
“Yes, Mother.”
“Damn right. Now listen to me...” Ally grabbed Jenny by the shoulders and turned her so they were eye to eye. “You’re off to a great start with Brody, but it’s going to get harder and harder to keep up the Catholic nun routine. As you pointed out, he’s pretty damn fuckable.”
Jenny quirked an eyebrow. “Is this supposed to bolster my resolve? Because it’s not.”
“That’s what I’m saying. Resisting him is going to become more and more difficult the longer you see him. But that’s exactly what you need to do. Not to test him, not to gauge whether you guys could have something more substantial...but to prove that you’re worth more than you’ve ever given yourself credit for.” Tears began to shimmer in her best friend’s eyes and she let go of Jenny’s shoulder to fan a hand in front of her face. “Damn hormones.”
Jenny smiled through watery emotion of her own. “I really want what you and Mark have, Al. I know I shouldn’t be jealous, but I am. Totally.”
Ally folded her arms around her shoulders and gave Jenny a squeeze. “You’ll have it, sweetie. I promise.”
“I hope so.” And for the first time in a long time, she actually believed it might be true.
***
“I know you don’t see it yet, but we’re making progress here, Corporal.” Dr. Sherman slipped off his glasses, set them on the table to his left, and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“When are the dreams going to stop? That’s the kind of progress I want to see.” Leaning forward, elbows on his knees, Brody tapped his fingertips together anxiously. “They stop for a day or two, and then they come back all over again.”
“The subconscious is a complicated thing. It can hang onto things we don’t even know have impacted us.”
“Then how the hell is therapy going to help? How is anything going to help?”
Dr. Sherman gave a sympathetic smile. “Awareness is half the battle.”
Oh really. “What’s the other half?”
“Faith.”
“That’s bullshit.” Brody shoved to his feet and stalked across the office, his focus set absentmindedly on a tall willow tree, its limbs weighed down with silvery ice.
“Why do you say that, Brody?”
“You think I don’t want this to stop? You think I enjoy losing sleep and walking around like a fucking zombie all the time?”
“I’m not talking about wanting the dreams to stop—I’m talking about believing they will.”
What kind of crap was that? “So you’re telling me all I’ve gotta do is blow smoke up my own ass and Ernie’s lifeless eyes will stop keeping me awake at night?”
Dr. Sherman nodded agreeably. “To a certain degree, yes. It’d be most effective if you actually bought into the change, though.”
“I’m not buying into any of this, Doc. The only fucking thing that’s helped me at all is the company of a woman who lives all the way on the other side of Nebraska. You want me to keep talking? To open up? Well, how about this—she’s the only friggin’ reason I’m here right now.”
The older man’s eyes widened slightly and he waved a hand, inviting more. “Go on.”
Yeah, right. “I’m not talking to you about Jenny.”
“But she’s motivated you to continue seeing me. Maybe there’s some substance to that.”
Sure there was. He didn’t want to freak her out when he screamed like a little bitch in the middle of the night. Ideally, he’d have this shit wrapped up by the time she trusted him enough to share her bed again.
“Does she know what happened in Afghanistan, Corporal?” Dr. Sherman was a persistent son of bitch, Brody would give him that.
“The basics.” He lifted a shoulder and moved away from the window.
“And the dreams?”
A loud bark of laughter erupted from Brody’s chest. “I initiated her with that shit, Doc. A proud fucking moment in my life, let me tell ya.”
“How did she react?”
The memory of Jenny climbing into bed beside him, smoothing on her lotion, like dudes boohooing about dying in their sleep happened to her every damn day. Reed Fletcher might’ve shed a few tears in his pillow, but Brody doubted they were over anything more significant than his faded tan or his tiny, prepubescent balls.
“She rolled with it. Didn’t make a big deal of it or anything.”
“Did she acknowledge it or pretend it didn’t happen?”
Scratching a hand over the back of his neck, he reclaimed his seat and sighed. “She acknowledged it, but she was pretty chill about the whole thing. Just asked a few questions and didn’t push for answers I didn’t want to give.”
“How’d that make you feel?” Dr. Sherman leaned back in his seat, steeling his fingers, like he did every time they edged toward more intense conversation.
“Made me want to tell her more.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because she’s the first person in too long who hasn’t looked at me like I’m crazy. And who makes me feel like the man I was before that last tour. If I tell her...” He shook his head, the potential outcome not something he wanted to verbalize, let alone envision. “If I tell her, I risk her seeing me for the mess I really am.”
“You’re not crazy, Brody.”
“I’m not?” He gave another bitter laugh.
“No. You just need to let go of the unwarranted guilt you carry. Nothing you could have done would have stopped that IED from going off the way it did, because you can’t change what you don’t know about.” The doctor gave another easy smile. Probably intended to be reassuring, but it missed its mark. “What you can change is the person you let that awful day turn you into. Will it come in the way of your relationships? Absolutely. Especially if you’re not upfront about what you’ve been through, and what you fear will happen as a result.”
And wasn’t that a shitty place to be? Caught between the fear of missing out on something really great with Jenny because he couldn’t fully open up to her...and the fear of scaring her off because he said too much.
“I need to talk to her,” he said more for himself than Dr. Sherman, but the man nodded anyway.
“From what you’ve said, it sounds like she’ll listen, if not welcome, the conversation.”
She would, without a doubt. But whether she’d want to keep seeing him afterward was another matter.
Ten minutes later, Brody climbed into his truck with a bigger weight on his shoulders than he’d carried into the session. Seemed ass backwards to him, but he couldn’t argue with Doc Sherman’s logic. If he didn’t come clean with Jenny, he might as well stop seeing her now, because he’d never have the kind of relationship with her that he wanted.
More than that, she deserved to know the truth about the kind of man he really was.
He grabbed his phone from the console and grinned like the stupid son-of-a-bitch he was when he saw her latest text: Please tell me you don’t man-scape.
He laughed out loud and thumbed a quick response. You just waxed some dude’s balls, didn’t you?
Ugh, yes.
Damn. He didn’t like that vision nearly as much as he liked the one of her working on another woman. Not your thing?
Clean is fine, but I prefer a man with a little roughage.
Hmm. Now was as good a time as any, wasn’t it? What do you think about cock piercings?
Three, two, one...
Holy shit. You?
Maybe? He hit send and squinted at the phone like her answer might reach through the phone and slap him across the face.
Tease. I hate you right now.
He laughed. Don’t worry, beautiful, it’ll still be there when you’re ready.
Might be a while.
I’m a patient man.
And hopefully she’d be as patient and understanding with him, too, because the baggage they both carried wasn’t going to unload itself with one conversation.
Call me later, Superman?
Looking forward to it, sugar.
