Harper
The diner smells like coffee and bacon grease, and I’m sitting in a corner booth trying very hard not to squirm.
It’s seven fifteen. The morning sun is streaming through the windows, hitting the laminate tabletop, and I’m acutely, painfully aware of every single place Luke touched me last night.
But I’m more aware of the places he didn’t.
Last night was better sex than I’ve ever had in my life, and we barely did anything. We weren’t even naked. Hell—we didn’t even kiss.
Did it even count as him touching me? I’m not sure, but I can still feel the weight of his hand right there.
I can feel it when I shift in the booth, like a sort of phantom touch, not there but still teasing me.
I stare very hard at my eggs, trying to focus on something other than the fact that I’m in my uniform and my panties are uncomfortably wet.
“Real professional, Garrett,” I mutter, stabbing at my breakfast. “You’re a cop. Act like one.”
Except I don’t feel like a cop right now. I feel like a woman who got thoroughly and completely wrecked by a man who climbed through her bedroom window like he had every right to be there.
Was that his point? Was he trying to distract me from what happened on the bridge? I hate to admit it, but it’s working. I’ve been spinning more about him making me come in my room than anything that went down last night.
I take a long sip of coffee and try to think—to act normal.
I know it’s not working because Martha, who’s owned the diner forever, keeps giving me knowing looks.
I’m flushed—I know I’m flushed. My hair is still damp from the shower I took at five a.m., trying to wash away the evidence before my father woke up, and I’m pretty sure I’m radiating I just had sex energy like a beacon.
Except I didn’t have sex.
God, sex with him would be mind-blowingly good. Forget-your-name good.
I will not think about sex with Luke Bennett. I’m not sure I’d survive it.
But—fuck—I want it bad.
Cheeks burning, I grab a newspaper from the next table over to hide my guilty lust face. I’m skimming over the articles, thinking more about Luke’s bare chest than the rise of chipmunks in town, when I see a headline that makes me stop.
COLE TURNER FOR MONTANA
"Oh fuck." The paper crinkles in my fists as I scan the article, bile rising in my throat at the thought of that man running for office. The article touts him as a polished businessman talking about economic surety and family values.
“Bullshit,” I mutter, tossing the paper aside.
The last thing this state needs is a man like that in power.
I didn’t go to school with him—he’s quite a bit older than me—and he lives in Bozeman, so I don’t know him as well as I did his brother Eli, but the Turners have always had a reputation for being rotten.
My phone buzzes.
Thank God—a distraction. I pull it out eagerly, hoping it’s good.
My breath catches when I read it.
Unknown Number
I can still taste you.
Heat floods my face. I don’t need three guesses to figure out who it is.
I glance around the diner, suddenly paranoid that everyone can see the text on my screen. No one’s looking at me. Martha’s refilling coffee at the counter. An older couple is reading the paper in the booth across from me.
I type back quickly.
No you can’t.
And how did you get this number?
The response comes almost immediately.
Unknown Number
I have my ways, sunshine.
And yes I can. I licked you off my fingers.
You tasted like you’re mine.
Gasping, I shiver.
Unknown Number
I’m still hard thinking about it.
Jesus.
You can’t text me things like that.
Unknown Number
I just did.
Besides you like it.
Your thighs are probably clenched right now just reading this.
I relax my legs, just to prove a point.
If you aren’t careful, I’ll haul you into lockup.
Unknown Number
Promises, promises.
I start to grin.
What the fuck? I set the phone down and take a long drink of water. I’ll ignore him. I should pay and get to work anyway.
My phone buzzes again.
Who am I kidding? I can’t ignore him.
Unknown Number
You’re thinking about last night. I can feel it from here.
Know what, last night was nothing compared to what next time will be.
But that’s not why I texted you.
You sure?
Unknown Number
Mostly.
I just want to let you know the woman from last night is good. No worries.
I wince. I’ve been so preoccupied with Luke that I forgot to ask about the woman. Was that why he climbed through my window last night—to distract me from what had happened?
I scowl at my phone. If he’d wanted to do that, he wouldn’t have brought her up again. Sure, he’s being vague, but I feel like it’s to protect her.
Yes, I want to believe that’s why he’s vague and not because this is all to distract me from what’s going on at Blackthorn Ranch.
And?
Unknown Number
And nothing.
Now stop thinking about her and start thinking about me again.
Because I’m definitely thinking about you.
About your lips.
About the noises you make.
About how you taste.
I set the phone down again and press my palms against my eyes. This is insane. I’m sitting in a public diner, in broad daylight, getting sexually harassed via text by a man who may or may not be a criminal, and I’m enjoying it.
I’m also relieved that woman is safe. Somehow, despite everything—despite the complications with Luke, despite the fact that I’m sitting in a public diner flushed and aroused and completely compromised—I believe him.
I’m also completely, utterly undone by him. My mind may be telling me to run away from him, but every other part of me wants to chase him down and tie him to my bed.
Maybe it’ll run its course and then we’ll be done. Maybe the more I resist, the bigger it becomes in my mind. If I just allow it, we’ll probably fizzle out and I can go back to normal life.
I frown. Yeah, I don’t believe that either.
Fact of the matter: I want to talk to him about last night and the woman, and we can’t do it over our phones. I’m going to have to meet him somewhere private so we can talk freely.
That’s my reasoning, and I’m sticking to it.
Unknown Number
Meet tonight?
I bite my lip. I want to ask him why—to talk about the woman and what happened, or to fool around some more.
Who am I kidding? I’m not turning down either one.
Where?
Unknown Number
Anywhere you want.
Adding him to my contacts, I set my phone down and stare off into space. I already know I’m going to say yes. Luke’s like crack. I’ve had a taste and I want more—a lot more.
But I’m going to be smart about this.
As smart as you were fooling around with him while your dad was down the hall? an annoying voice whispers in my head.
“Yep, probably that smart,” I mutter as I slide out of the booth to pay and head to work.