Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
CHRISTIAN
“ S top it!” Starling smacks my chest. “Why are you laughing? That was good dirty talk!”
“That was terrible dirty talk,” I say, still laughing hard enough to make my stomach hurt. “It reminded me of that creepy rhyme from when we were kids—the worms go in, the worms go out, the worms go wiggling through your snout.”
“It was nothing like that!” She pokes my abs with one stabby finger. “It was flirty and fun. And you liked it at first, I could tell.”
I did like it at first.
I liked the delivery, anyway, if not the words themselves. But then the ridiculousness of the entire situation hit full force, and I couldn’t stop thinking about how much time I’ve wasted having filthy fantasies about a woman with zero experience.
Starling and I are even worse a fit than I initially thought and I’m not about to get tangled up with a virgin. Way too much pressure and responsibility in that for me.
“Sorry,” I say, attempting to get myself under control. “I’m sure you’ll get better with time.”
She arches a wry brow. “Does that mean you’re volunteering as tribute?”
I shake my head. “Nope. Sorry. I’m not qualified to be a sex tutor.”
She props her hands on her hips with an affronted sound. “I don’t need a tutor. It’s sex, not rocket science, Christian. I’m sure my body will know what to do when the time is right. I just need experience and a chance to practice with someone I can trust.” She slaps my chest again. “And for some reason I trust your arrogant ass.”
“Well, thank you. I appreciate that.” I bite my bottom lip but can’t stop another smile from stretching across my face. “I really do.”
“Argh!” She stomps her foot, making her long skirt ripple. “You’re the worst. And awfully smug for a man who did the Macarena in a banana hammock.”
The smile drops from my face so fast I hear it make impact with the ground. “What? Where did you hear about that?” I curse beneath my breath. “Can no one keep their mouth shut these days? Trinity swore she wouldn’t tell anyone about that or the thing with the whipped cream.”
Now it’s Starling’s turn to smirk. “Oh yeah, the thing with the whipped cream was super gross. You should have shaved your chest first. Dairy spray and chest hair don’t mix. Especially really thick chest hair. You have an awfully lot of it for a blond. Is there a chance you might have a glandular problem?”
“ You have a glandular problem,” I shoot back like a five-year-old, making her giggle.
“I really don’t,” she says. “I’m in perfect health, STD free, and on the pill. I’m ready and able to report for sex mentoring at your convenience, Mr. McGuire. I think mentoring is a much better word for what we’ll be up to than tutoring. I just need a little help from someone older and wiser to help me come into my own.” She drops her voice and her lids to half-mast as she adds, “And just come in general. I’ve never done that with someone else before and it sounds like a lot of fun.” Her lips part seductively as she adds, “Is it fun, Christian? Could you make it fun for me? For both of us?”
“Fuck,” I curse, making her emerald eyes dance.
“See, I’m getting better at the dirty talk already, aren’t I?” She sways forward, bringing her glorious cleavage close enough that I could have her nipple in my mouth in ten seconds or less.
But I’m not going to suck her nipple into my mouth. I’m going to get out of here before I do something stupid like agree to this crazy plan.
Because it would be crazy. Starling might not be worried about getting emotionally involved, but I sure as hell am.
Knowing I’m the first man to touch her everywhere, to make her come, the first man to spread her thighs and push inside her…it’ll make this longing I feel when I’m with her even worse. And the last thing I need is to fall head over heels for a girl who’s just looking to fuck and run. Especially when I know for a fact, I’ll keep running into this girl again and again for the rest of my life.
Barrett and Wren are forever, which means my connection to Starling is forever, which means, “No.”
Her brows shoot up. “No? Oh, come on, that was good dirty talk!”
“The dirty talk was fine, but I can’t do this. I’m sorry.” I take a step back. “It’s too complicated with work and family and…all the rest of it.”
She frowns. “All the rest of what?”
I drag a hand through my hair. “But good luck. I’m sure you’ll find someone great to help you out. You’re gorgeous and funny and easy to be with. All things guys like. I gotta run before Matty’s turn. I promised I’d film his runs so he could work on his form, then I have to work the feast with Melissa, so…”
Letting my words trail away, I turn and bolt.
Before I get sucked into her sad eyes.
Before I change my mind.
Before I think too much about Starling finding another sex mentor and how absolutely livid the thought makes me.
I already want to punch that guy in the face and the nuts and everywhere in between, proving I made the right call. I’ve rarely been this irrationally angry, especially at a person who doesn’t exist.
At least not yet…
I wasn’t lying when I said I was sure Starling would find someone great to help her out. She’s the entire package—kind, fun, easy to talk to, and stunning. Absolutely stunning. Even in jeans and a t-shirt on a low-key day at the office, she’s a head turner.
In that dress, she’s the stuff kinky medieval dreams are made of.
But luckily for me, she’ll need time to pick a new potential mentor.
Starling’s suggestion that we get naked and have a good time might have been the result of a few tequila shots, but I know her too well to think the proposition came out of nowhere. Starling isn’t a seat-of-the-pants girl. She might have texted because she was tipsy, but I’d bet my right hand she’s been thinking about the possibility of us having something casual for a while now.
It’ll take at least a few weeks for her to home in on another candidate, and by then I’ll be too busy packing for my move to get upset about it. Then, I’ll be hundreds of miles away and so consumed with my new job that I won’t have time for vivid fantasies of punching the guy’s teeth out.
Certain I’m correct, I do my best to put Starling out of my mind and concentrate on filming Matty’s joust, but it isn’t easy.
When she joins Nora in the front row of the bleachers, I have to fight to keep my gaze fixed on my brother. And when Matty wins his joust and rides past Nora and Starling to accept the roses they toss out to congratulate him, it takes all my self-control to keep from rushing over there and telling him to get the hell away from them.
Both of them.
Just in case.
Logically, I know Starling would never go after a man her friend was interested in—or my brother—but the irrational, possessive, irate-that-I-said-no-to-getting-Starling-in-the-sack part of me isn’t interested in logic. It’s pissed off and itching for a fight.
So, when I corner Matty in the stables after the tournament with our brother Wes’s horse Marisol, my tone goes from reasonable to fuck-around-and-find-out in a matter of seconds. “You did a good job. I sent the videos to your phone. Oh, and stay away from Nora. She’s got enough on her plate running a business and taking care of her grandmother all by herself while her brother pretends he’s actually got a shot at the NHL. She doesn’t need your brand of bullshit.”
“Hey, woah, slow down.” Inside the stall, Matty lifts his hands at his sides, Marisol’s curry brush still in hand. “What about Nora? Did she say something? About me? Is she…interested?”
“No, she’s not,” I say, though I have no idea whether or not that’s true. “Or she wouldn’t be if she knew you’re just killing time until you can make a run for the border.”
Matty scowls. “You make me sound like a fugitive from justice.”
“More like a fugitive from your family and responsibilities,” I snap.
“I just want to travel, see the world, get out of Minnesota for a while,” he shoots back, beginning to brush Marisol again. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“McGuires stick together and stay put,” I say, quoting one of my father’s favorite sayings from when we were kids. “That’s why we have what we have here.”
“A town filled with so many McGuires, I couldn’t date half my senior class?” Matty snorts. “Yeah, it’s great, brother. Best thing ever.”
“We have support and community and each other’s backs. The world can be a rough place without that, Matty. I hope you figure that out before you’re doing time in a Mexican prison.”
My brother rolls his eyes so hard, his head swivels on his neck. “You’re ridiculous. I’m not going to end up in a Mexican prison.”
“You take chances.”
“So do you,” he shoots back. “And you’re not sticking or staying put, either. I’m just planning an extended vacation. You’re the one who’s moving out of town.” He strokes Marisol’s glossy neck, looking up into her big brown eyes as he adds in a sweeter voice, “Isn’t that right, Mari? Christian’s the big bad bailer, and when Mom finds out, she’ll forget she’s mad at me and move his name to the top of her shit list.”
“I’ll only be a couple hours away,” I say.
Matty snorts. “Tell that to Mom. You haven’t told her yet, right? She was smiling when I passed by her flower stand on the way in, so I’m assuming not.”
“I’ll tell her when I’m ready,” I mumble. “When the time is right.”
“The time’s never going to be right, and you know it,” Matty says. “Our family is like a cult. No one gets to have any original thoughts, and no one gets to leave.”
“Our family is not like a cult.”
“Yeah, it is,” Matty insists. “A mostly nice cult, but still…” He tosses Marisol’s brush on top of a leather tack bag in the corner of the stall before turning to face me fully. “And don’t worry about Nora. She’s literally the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I’m sure she realizes she’s too good for me.”
I exhale. “I didn’t say that, Matty. I’m just saying she’s got a lot on her plate and is probably looking for someone who wants to stick around and help her out, not get her all attached and hit the road.”
“Guess I should be flattered that you think I’m interesting enough to get attached to,” he mutters, looping an arm around Marisol’s neck. She snorts in my direction, as if she’s understood every word of our conversation and is firmly on Matty’s side. “Anything else, my liege? Or are you finished chewing my ass for the day? You do realize you’re the little brother in this relationship, right? If anyone is chewing ass it should be me?”
“Thirteen months older doesn’t count. And I had to grow up faster, since I didn’t have a twin to watch my back.” I frown. “Speaking of twins, why couldn’t you bartend for Melissa tonight?”
Matty’s eyes dim, and his expression grows guarded. “I have a previous engagement.”
“A previous engagement?” I echo. “Like what? Everyone you know is here.”
“Not everyone,” he says. “And that’s all I’m going to say about it. Wouldn’t want you to get in trouble for keeping secrets from the family.”
“Tell me you’re not racing again,” I say, my blood heating as he continues to give me the infamous Matty stonewall face. I don’t know how Matty went from a genius high school nerd, who could speak four languages and was getting recruited by half the colleges in the country, to a full-fledged rebel, but it happened fast. And so far, he shows no sign of shifting course back to a safer lane. “If you die in a stock car crash, it’ll kill Mom. You know that, right?”
“I’m making the choices I feel comfortable making and doing the things I need to do,” he says cagily. “Which reminds me, you should probably check in on Gage and the guys at your shop. I heard a rumor one of them is chopping up stolen bikes for parts and selling them after hours out your back door. Wouldn’t want that to blowback on you if whoever it is gets caught.”
I curse and Matty smiles. “See,” he adds, “sometimes my nefarious ways and shady connections are a good thing. I’d suggest you set up a nanny cam somewhere in the shop. Should have your culprit in a few days.” He pats Marisol on the neck. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to load Marisol into the trailer and get her back to Wes before three p.m. or she’ll be pissed. That’s when the little girls down the road walk by the field with carrots.”
Marisol snorts again and flaps her lips in my direction.
“All right, I’ll touch base with you later. Be careful tonight,” I say, wondering who could be the rat at my shop. Not to be a jerk who judges people on their past mistakes, but Unger is my only mechanic with a record. He did time for stealing from construction sites as a teenager.
“Will do,” Matty says, turning toward the back exit to the stall.
“And Matty,” I call after him, waiting until he turns to add, “Thanks for the tip. I appreciate it. If you were sticking around town, I’d put in a good word for you with Nora. Someone to come home to might be good for you.”
Matty grins. “Aw, thanks, bro. You’re not all bad, either. Say hi to Mel for me and tell her I’m sorry I couldn’t help out tonight.”
I promise I will and head for the opposite side of the barn, checking the time on my cell before hurrying out to the parking lot. I still have a couple hours before I have to report for bartending duty and don’t see any reason to stick around the fair. I’d only risk running into Starling again and that seems like something best avoided until Monday morning at the office.
I head home to check on Bella to find her passed out cold in my closet, nestled in my open sock drawer. Considering skunks are nocturnal, this is nothing to be worried about, so I leave her sleeping and refill her food bowl before heading out to buy a motion activated surveillance camera.
Luckily for me, the bike shop closes early on Saturdays so I’m able to pop in and plant the camera in the breakroom between several antique oil containers no one’s touched—or dusted—in years without anyone being the wiser.
As I lock up the shop that’s been such a big part of my life for the past decade, I can’t help wishing again that I’d been able to find a buyer. The shop helped me pay off my house while taking time off to volunteer at the shelter and spend time with my family and friends, but I’m ready to move on. I’m excited to do work that really makes a difference in people’s lives and to come home at the end of the day without oil caked under my fingernails.
Though I’ve never had any complaints about my dirty hands.
A lot of women actually seemed to like it.
Women like Ariana, one of my exes, who’s just getting off work at the beer tent as I breeze back into the fair. She’s dressed in a much more modest wench outfit than Carolina’s, but that’s her style. Ari is a class act, works two jobs to support her sick parents, and still finds plenty of opportunities to have a good time.
She’s also never said no to a hookup, even after we officially called it quits.
I should ask her if she wants to hang out with me at the bar during the banquet. I could slip her a few free drinks, chat with her during lulls to make the shift go by faster, then take her home with me at the end of the night.
Once I’m inside another woman, I’ll forget how much I want to be inside Starling.
Honestly, that’s probably a big contributor to my obsession with my boss. I haven’t fucked another woman since I started working with Starling. I’ve been so focused on learning everything I can about marketing strategies and applying for the job in Minneapolis, I haven’t had time to find a friend-with-benefits to keep me company during my last few months in Bad Dog.
I’m on my way over to Ari, an invitation forming on my lips, when I catch a flash of blueish green out of the corner of my eye. I turn toward the line already forming outside the giant King’s Feast tent to see Starling batting her eyes at none other than my cousin Theo.
Theo, who saved Wally’s life back when we were kids.
Theo, who was then, and is now, a genuinely nice guy with a great job, a decent sense of humor, and not a mean bone in his body.
Theo, who would actually be a great fit for Starling and who is actively looking to settle down and get started on forever with the right girl.
Theo, who is looking at Starling like she might be that girl, inspiring a wave of irrational possessiveness that has me making tracks their direction before I know what’s hit me.