How could a woman like Mikki, so sexy and sophisticated, be okay with what had just happened? The sex was, as she said, amazing. Yeah, that was a good word for it, but it was more than that. It went beyond a body consuming orgasm, beyond a physical need for pleasure. It was something I had never experienced with a woman before, no matter how quick and temporary the encounter was, and I didn’t know how to feel about it.
So I sat outside in my car, staring at Mikki’s house for more than an hour, watching for any sign that she felt hurt or upset by what had happened between us. Eventually, the lights downstairs went out and, a few seconds later, her bedroom light flicked on, followed by the television before she turned off the overhead light in favor of a lamp.
Was she in there crying, or was she not bothered? I shook my head and started the engine, realizing I was the one acting like a child. Mikki was probably watching TV and enjoying the dinner I didn’t even get a chance to taste.
I drove off, filled with regret at how things had gone down. But I couldn’t regret everything, not when the scent of her was glued to my skin. I was too amped up to sleep and too frustrated to be alone, so instead of turning right, I made a left and headed to the one person I knew I could talk to.
Mikki
There’s something refreshing—or maybe it’s liberating—about waking up after a really incredible orgasm without disappointment or expectations. I opened my eyes with a smile on my face and a delicious ache all over my body, and when I turned to the other side of the bed, I wasn’t let down. I saw exactly what I expected to see: nothing but my phone and the charger connected to it.
Not Nate, because he left last night. In a huff.
A part of me wanted to feel bad that he so obviously didn’t fully appreciate the gift of last night, but only a part of me. I knew men, and I wasn’t a stranger to men like Nate, who preferred to keep up the illusion that they were after something other than sex. Mitchell and Charla’s betrayal had blindsided me—her more than him, because it was never a love match with him—but I had Nate’s number and he didn’t like that.
Not at all.
“No time to worry about that,” I sang cheerfully as I slid from the bed and took a quick shower before heading to my shop. Sleeping in wasn’t a luxury I allowed myself too often, because making Pretty Feathers a success was my main goal. It would keep me here in Tulip, instead of heading back to Mississippi with my tail tucked between my legs—a thought I refused to even entertain. Daddy would just love that, and I would never hear the end of it.
Luckily, the shop was more successful than I could have ever imagined and if business kept up, I would be operating in the black in sixty days or less. Sure, I could use my trust fund money to help out, but I wanted to do this on my own. I wanted Pretty Feathers to succeed because I knew how to pick the right designers, the perfect way to display their clothes, and the best technique to market to the different customer bases. Not because I was some rich girl with too much money to fail.
Skipping coffee, I flew out the door and walked the short trip to my shop in my favorite pair of green and white espadrilles. They were comfortable and easy to walk in, which only enhanced the joy I felt when the shop came into sight. The awning above was a deep purple color and my logo, the swirly cursive writing in a rainbow feather print, always brought a smile to my face. It was bright and flashy. Unforgettable.
And it was all mine.
The shop didn’t open for another hour, which gave me time to update the spreadsheets for each of my designers. I made sure to keep the percentages fair for both of us, while allowing me to increase my profits enough that I wouldn’t have to dip into my trust fund. That meant I needed to keep detailed records of what sold well and what ended up on the clearance racks. Between updating the books and tidying up the store after my hasty exit last night in preparation for Nate’s visit, I spent the entire hour busy. Moving around and not at all thinking about that look on Nate’s face when he stormed out of my house last night.
Hurt. Somehow, inexplicably, I’d hurt the gruff Hometown Hero’s feelings. But I couldn’t, no I wouldn’t let my soft heart be swayed by his temporary fit of emotion. It would pass, I knew that.
His past behavior predicted it, so I shook it off and grabbed a bottle of sparkling water to settle my stomach, regretting that I’d consumed far too much of the dinner Nate had brought over. Enchiladas for two devoured by one was not a good idea. Not for my stomach or my waistline.
I was slowly sipping from the bottle when Bo strode in. Her purposeful stride seemed different today and I sat up a little straighter behind the counter as she approached. Today, Bo wore the same outfit she usually did: a pair of jeans that sculpted her legs and a blue General Store tee that showed off her small waist and perky boobs. But her blue eyes were intense as she smacked her hands on the counter, no regard for the fact that I’d just wiped the glass.
“What did you do to break Nate?”
I blinked in confusion at her question and then laughed. “You must have me confused with someone else, honey, because I don’t have the power to break that man.”
“Then explain why he came over to my house last night, interrupting what would have been some pretty amazing sex, and got drunk. Really damn drunk, Mikki, and complaining about you. The. Entire. Time.” Bo was mad—not her generally grumpy self, but genuinely angry.
My shoulders fell as I just realized what people meant about small towns being super small. Nate was family, and if she had to choose, Bo would choose him over me. Just like Mitchell and Charla. Just like Daddy. And Mama.
Oh, well. I couldn’t change what was about to happen, so I shrugged. “There’s nothing for him to complain about, not when he got exactly what he wanted.”
And the more I thought about that particular fact, the angrier I became. It was so typical of a man, especially a player like Nate.
“He’s just upset because I’m not clinging to him and begging for more than he’s willing to give me. Men are very rarely satisfied when they get exactly what they want.” Mitchell was a prime example of that, deciding he wanted Charla when all he’d ever wanted his whole life was to be a big, important man. It seemed Nate had been cut from the same cloth.
It was too bad, really, because the sex was fantastic, and I wouldn’t mind a repeat. Without the drama, of course.
Bo didn’t look all that convinced and with her arms folded and those dark brows arched in question, I knew whose side she was on. “I think it was more than that.” The accusation was clear: I must have done something wrong.
I shook my head in denial, knowing it was pointless. “It wasn’t, and even if it was, I refuse to let him toy with me and my emotions just to make himself feel better, Bo. If that makes things weird for you, then I’ll just stop coming around. Okay?” I closed my laptop and turned away, taking my time tucking it into one of the privacy lockers for the customers so I could get my emotions under control. It wouldn’t be the first time a sour relationship had impacted other, more important ones. Won’t be the last either, it seems.
She was frowning when I turned back to her. “You’d do that?”
I shrugged. “There’s nothing to do, Bo. Nate is family, if not by law yet, then by all the other ways that matter. Of course, he’d come first.” Even if it hurt and even if it was totally unfair. I had the things I wanted most—my shop and my freedom. It was enough. It had to be.
“Dammit, Mikki.”
I wasn’t in the mood to be on the receiving end of one of Bo’s tirades, so I held up a hand to stop her. “Listen, Bo. I get it, okay? We don’t need to make it into a whole big thing.”
“No, you listen. I don’t like many people and I like you, but this thing with you and Nate can’t possibly end any way but badly.”
“Then it’s a good thing there’s nothing to end. That’s what I’m trying to tell you, Bo. It was sex, nothing but sex. Great sex, sure, but that’s all it was. I know that and Nate knows it, too, but his ego is bruised. He’ll fin
d another woman who ignores his warnings and thinks she can change him and then his ego will be soothed once more. Trust me.” I ignored the pang that came from thinking of Nate with another woman, because I had no claims on him. Hell, I didn’t want any claims on him, or any other man. Not for a long damn time.
Bo stared for a long time, like she was trying to figure out if I was lying to her or myself. Eventually, she must have found her answer, because she shrugged and took a step back. “I hope you’re right, because I don’t want things to be awkward when we’re all together.”
“They won’t be,” I assured her honestly, because I would do my best to minimize the awkwardness for everyone. The same way I had for the people I used to care about back in Mississippi. “I won’t let them.”
“That sounds ominous as hell, Mikki, and I don’t like it, but,” she glanced down at her watch, “I gotta get to the store. We’ll pick this up later.”
“Nothing to pick up,” I replied cheerfully and waved her off. “Go on and do what you gotta do.” I held my smile until Bo was gone and I was alone, again. Then, I shoved aside all thoughts of Nate and the amazing sex, or of Bo and the awkwardness that meant I would have to pull back from a friendship I already cherished dearly.
Luckily, being a small business owner meant there was no such thing as down time, so I had a productive day of folding, ordering new inventory, and fulfilling online orders for pickup tomorrow—all in the name of avoiding thinking about anything or anyone else.
Nate
“You’re in a bar, bro. At least try to look like you’re having fun.” Jase clapped me on the back, wearing the wide smile of man who got laid on the regular and knew what it was to have the love of a good woman.
“I’m having a great time,” I grunted at him and motioned for Buddy to give me another beer. “Add a shot of bourbon to that, would ya?” Buddy nodded and reached for the Jim Beam. He was a man of few words, which I respected. He didn’t often offer up unsolicited advice, unlike others. Like my brother. “Should I wear a goofy-ass grin like yours?”
Jase only nodded and took another sip from his draft, leaving a foam mustache across his upper lip. “Maybe you should. I’ve always got a reason to smile.” His gaze slid to the same table I was trying like hell to ignore.
The table where Mikki sat with Hope, Max, Nina, and Bo. Laughing and having a good ol’ time, and doing her level best to ignore me. Or maybe it wasn’t her best—how should I know, when she hadn’t looked my way once. Not one damn time. “Right,” I grunted at my brother even as I wondered what Mikki’s deal was. I hadn’t seen her since the night I’d been a grade-A asshole to her, and for her part, she hadn’t sought me out to demand an apology or to slap me across the face—both of which I had coming.
Jase let out a knowing laugh and bumped my shoulder. “She really got to you, didn’t she?”
“Nope.”
“Liar. You forget I saw you drunk and I listened to every word you said, big brother. Every word,” he emphasized, which had my gaze swinging to him.
“What did I say? Exactly, Jase.”
That little fucker had the nerve to grin and shrug. “I promised you I wouldn’t tell a soul any of it, and I kept my promise.”
“Now who’s the liar?” He and Bo had been close as hell even before they went and fell in love, so there was no way he kept this from her.
“I didn’t even tell Bo. You made her sit, listen, and then give you her take on the whole scenario.”
“I didn’t.” Luckily, Buddy chose that moment to slam the shot and the beer bottle down right in front of me. “Thanks,” I told him, and he simply nodded before shuffling off to a couple cowboys at the other end of the bar. “Please, tell me you’re kidding.”
“Wish I was. So, what’s happened since your drunken confession?”
“Not a damn thing.” And not for lack of trying. Well, not trying, really, so much as trying to bump into her accidentally. On purpose. She hadn’t shown up to Ry and Penny’s barbecue over the weekend, which wasn’t that surprising since she and Penny weren’t close. But I’d expected her at Bo’s Monday fish-fry, but she hadn’t been there, either. “It’s like she only comes out to go to her shop.”
Jase made a sound that was almost a grunt, only there was something else behind it. “What?”
“What do you know?” He was a terrible liar, and the fact that he couldn’t even meet my eyes told me what I needed to know. Mostly.
Jase shrugged. “Nothing. If you want to know something, go talk to her. She’s right over there.”
“Yeah, I’ve got eyes, Jase, thanks.” Over there—with a table full of women who probably knew exactly what an asshole I was and wouldn’t hesitate to rip me apart, one shred at a time.
Mikki sat at the table looking sexier than she had a right to in a pair of ass-hugging jeans and one of those sexy sweater-sets the color of an Easter egg, and I knew if she turned I’d get an eyeful of cleavage. I’d watched her on and off for the past fifteen minutes and not once did she look my way, or any way, for that matter. As if other than her friends, nothing in the bar mattered to her.
Least of all, me.
A hand landed smack in the middle of my chest. “Just go talk to her, man. You’re being creepy as hell and honestly, it’s sad to watch.” His lips curled into a mocking grin. “Never known you to be afraid of a woman.”
He was taunting me. Goading me into doing the one thing I’d told myself I wouldn’t do: bother Mikki. “Not afraid, just respecting her wishes.”
“So she told you to leave her the hell alone? Interesting.”
“No,” I grunted. “Not exactly, but if she wanted to talk, she would do something like smile at me or wave me over, right?” That was a pathetic excuse and we both knew it.
“Never known you to sit back when you want something,” he pointed out, throwing down the gauntlet once again as he strolled to the table where the women sat and ran his fingers through Bo’s hair.
Asshole. I was about to follow Jase when Mikki stood, laughing as the table shouted things at her. Then she turned and made her way towards the bar. Towards me. I couldn’t take my eyes off her, the way those jeans clung to her, just as I knew they would. But it was that light purple sweater with just two little pearly buttons clasped under her breasts and the deep line of cleavage that peeked from the tank top that had my mouth watering. And the shoes—the woman must have at least fifty pairs, and tonight’s were at least three inches high in the same color as her top. When her gaze slid carefully past me, I stifled the urge to roll my eyes and leaned in the moment she put her elbows on the bar.
“Evenin’, Mikki.”
“Nate,” she replied without so much as a glance, waving to get Buddy’s attention as if we were complete strangers.
“You’re looking as pretty as a picture tonight.” Women loved compliments and I knew this would give me my opening.
“Thanks,” she said, again without looking. When Buddy made his way over, she rattled off five drink orders with a polite smile.
“Comin’ right up.” Buddy got busy with her order and Mikki looked everywhere but my way, making me smile.
I leaned forward so that I was all the way in her space, impossible to ignore. Her gaze met mine. “You’re not avoiding me, are you Mikki?”
When her hazel gaze swung to mine, all I could see were her lush pink lips, pursed in mild irritation. “What reason would I have to avoid you, Nate?” It was a good question, but it was also a trap designed to ensnare me, and I refused to take the bait. Mikki, though, took my silence in stride, grabbing the tray of drinks and walking away. Without another damn word.
Watching her head back to her table, I was more confused than ever. She didn’t seem mad, not at all, but what else would explain her sudden absence from social events?
Maybe she just doesn’t want to be around you. It was a thought that came all on its own, and as much as I wanted to deny it, I couldn’t. That was the common denominator: me. I was there
and she didn’t want to be around me.
“Struck out, huh?” Despite his sympathetic tone, Jase wore a satisfied grin when he approached.
“Nope. Just sayin’ hi.” I shoved my beer in his hand and made my way to the bathroom to clear my head, because Mikki had a way of screwing with my thinking. All night, I was more focused on her and her laugh than I was on the trivia, quickly helping to get our team eliminated for my efforts.
“Get your head out of your ass before next week.” Ry’s words held no heat, but I knew what he was doing—giving me an opening, just in case I wanted to talk.
I didn’t. “Yeah, thanks Ry.”
He shrugged at my short answer and scanned the bar for his woman. “Then I’m outta here. Got a four-foot dinosaur puzzle in 3-D I promised to help Mike start on tonight. Later.”
After the winning team, The Matchmakers—which consisted of Ry’s mom Betty, Antonio’s mom Elizabeth, Will’s mom Helen, and Scott the vet’s mom, Eddy—was announced, most of the teams slowly headed towards the exit. The women had made no secret of their intentions as far as the Hometown Heroes were concerned, and I planned to keep as much distance between them and myself as possible.
My gaze landed on Mikki, and I planned to get some face time with her before the night was over. As soon as I hit the head. It was my own damn luck that she was gone when I returned and I knew I had no right to feel disappointed, but I did. So, I took my ass home, where I had cold beer that was much cheaper than Buddy’s stuff and it had the benefit of not being crowded with people. Nosy people, who wanted to know everything.
I needed to face facts, and the fact was that Mikki clearly wanted nothing to do with me. I needed to respect that, no matter how damn hard it was. But even as the thought occurred to me, I picked up my phone and sent her a message.
Misters of Love: A Small Town Romance Boxset Page 6