Chapter 23
Nothing about this was a good idea.
Sleeping with my boss was stupid. Deciding to sneak around so we could do it again was even stupider. But that didn’t stop me from climbing in Adam’s truck Tuesday afternoon on the pretense of having errands in town.
We never made it to town.
Instead, we parked in one of those Colorado fields that seemed to stretch forever. Afternoon clouds rolled in as we fumbled with each other’s clothing, hot and desperate, taking off as little as possible to get the job done. It had been barely forty-eight hours since the last time we had touched each other like this, and still, when he finally slid inside me, the relief was so intense I nearly orgasmed on the spot. Hail pelted the truck, drowning out our sounds.
I collapsed against his chest, trying to catch my breath, while we waited out the storm. These things tended to pass quickly. Adam stroked his fingers through my hair while we cuddled against each other, my legs straddling his lap.
“Ben and I looked through the photos of his mom,” he said.
I stopped breathing and craned my neck to look at him. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
He was quiet, his fingers still sifting through my hair. I didn’t push, giving him space to consider his words.
“It didn’t feel like I thought it would,” he said finally. “I’m not mad anymore. I’m sad. Sad that Ben doesn’t have a mom around. Sad that Emily missed out on his life. But it doesn’t feel like it used to.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to ask whether he was sad for himself, too—sad because he missed the woman he loved. Pride choked the question down. Of all the stupid things I was doing, falling for a man still hung up on his dead ex-wife was probably the stupidest. But quite frankly, I didn’t care.
But I also didn’t need to hear him validate my fear. I didn’t need to hear him say he missed her. Especially not right now, feeling sated from the orgasm, his dick still tucked against me.
“I’m sure that was hard, seeing photos of her. You’re a good dad, Adam.” I pressed a kiss to his neck.
His lips quirked. “I try.”
We stayed like that for a long moment. Then suddenly, his arms tightened around me and squeezed.
“Thank you,” he said quietly.
Outside, the storm kept raging.
Two weeks after our return from Colorado Springs, my body was experiencing severe Adam-induced orgasm withdrawal. We hadn’t found much time in the last week to sneak off the ranch. Vibrator-induced orgasms took some of the edge off, but Saturday morning I had witnessed Adam unload a feed delivery, his back and biceps bulging as he threw a fifty-pound bag over one shoulder like it was nothing. By the time I arrived at the library and claimed the steel folding chair between Chloe and Essie, who we had also recruited to Hannah’s sewing circle, I was a grumbly, horny mess.
What I wanted to do was bend over the nearest hay bale and demand he put me out of my misery. Instead, I jabbed my needle into the linen fabric—stretched drum-tight in a bamboo hoop—with a satisfying little ping. Because I was a lady, dammit.
“Nice stitch.” Hannah leaned over to check my work. “So tight and firm.”
“That’s what he said,” Chloe murmured, making me snort.
Hannah smiled patiently. She didn’t laugh much, although I suspected that had more to do with the ribald jokes we traded than her lack of humor. She was definitely a little odd. But, hey, a month into our sewing circle, she hadn’t stabbed anyone yet.
Embroidery, it turned out, was actually pretty fun. I wouldn’t call it relaxing, exactly, the way a bottomless mimosa brunch was, but somehow the repeated stabbing of the needle released a lot of frustration.
“So, James,” Chloe said as she slowly and methodically worked her way through a cluster of French knots that would serve as the center of a daisy. “Did you save any horses with those condoms I gave you?”
My next stitch was impeccable. I gave it all my attention, focusing on the soft scrape of the thread pulled through the fabric rather than the ridiculous pounding of my heart. My cheeks burned. Why was I so embarrassed? I hadn’t done anything wrong. Banging the boss was stupid, but it wasn’t illegal.
“You did!” Chloe shrieked. “Look how red your face is.”
There weren’t any mirrors for me to do that, thank heaven for small mercies or whatever, but I could feel the truth of it in the heat spreading from my cheeks down my throat.
“Ohhh.” Essie drew out the two-letter word to five syllables. “I bet I know who the cowboy is. Otherwise, that only-one-bed situation would have been pretty awkward. Unless he’s into that.”
Hannah looked up. “Only one bed? That’s something that actually happens outside a Tessa Dare novel?”
“I don’t know who Tessa Dare is, but it’s definitely something that happens when you make last-minute reservations at a hotel during a big rodeo weekend. You know who else saved a horse?” I added in a blatant bid to shift the focus from me and more than willing to take my new friend down with me. “Essie.”
“Nice try,” she said. “Unfortunately, it won’t work. I saved zero horses last weekend.”
“Really? What happened with Zack? I thought you were hitting it off.”
“I did, too.” Essie stabbed the needle through the fabric with a little more force than necessary. “But Zack thought Brax would have a problem with it. Now, in my mind, pissing off Brax would be a bonus, but Zack apparently disagreed. Something about a stupid brother code, blah, blah, blah.” She made an annoyed sound. “It’s so ridiculous. Brax doesn’t care what I do.”
“Then I say we move the conversation back to James,” Chloe said. “Exactly how many horses did you save? I’d like to know my ROI.”
“ROI?” I repeated. Stalling.
“Return on investment.” She looked up from her hoop to study me like I was a third-grade science experiment gone awry. “That’s the second time you dodged. What gives? Are you uncomfortable talking about sex? Or was it…bad?”
“Definitely not bad.” Best sex of my life, actually, though it was hard to say why. It was more than him knowing how to use his tongue and fingers. We had connected in a way that I hadn’t experienced before. “I don’t want everyone thinking I’m banging the boss.”
“But you are banging the boss.”
I cringed. “Ugh.”
“This seems to be a problem for you. Tell me more about that.”
Hannah looked up and I could see from the narrowing of her eyes that both of us remembered Chloe saying that exact phrase to her during the inaugural meeting of the sewing circle. “You sound like a therapist.”
“I’m working on my doctorate in psychology at the University of Colorado. It’s interesting figuring out why people are the way they are.” Chloe shrugged. “Especially when it comes to sex.”
Essie blew out an exasperated sigh. “It’s the patriarchy. That’s why we are how we are when it comes to sex. And to that I say, fuck it. Right, Hannah?”
Hannah laughed and held up her work. “I’m literally embroidering it on a pillow.”
“Exactly.” Essie turned to me. “Listen, babe. Don’t bang the boss is good advice if you work in corporate culture, or where there’s a power difference, or your boss is a billionaire. That sort of thing. But Aspen Springs is a small town. If people can’t bang their co-workers, who the hell can they bang? Anyway, I’ve known Adam forever. He’s a good guy. Grouchy, yes. But a fundamentally good, decent human being. And hot as sin. Bang away, James. That’s my advice.”
I was horny enough that her logic was compelling. But the problem wasn’t just public perception. He wasn’t ready for a relationship. He had told me so himself.
Adam Hale was an Emotionally Unavailable Man. And like any overachieving girl with well-honed daddy issues, that happened to be my special brand of catnip. I could already hear the hopeful voice inside my head. I can fix him. I can be what he needs.
No matter how much I wished it were otherwise, I knew better. I had chased my dad’s approval my whole life. Twisting myself like a pretzel to be the daughter he wanted me to be. It had never worked with my dad, and it wasn’t going to work with Adam. He was never going to love me the way I wanted to be loved. Wholly and completely, with no regrets.
Emily was the love of his life. I remembered what he had said about his dad’s theory. That it was a relief that a love like that only came around once in a lifetime. That once-in-a-lifetime love had broken his heart and his spirit. It wasn’t only that he didn’t believe he could have a great love twice. He didn’t even want to try. Honestly, I didn’t blame him.
And I sure as hell wasn’t arrogant enough to think I was the woman to change his mind.