Chapter Three

 

Nora

Red rings circle my wrists. They’re dangled in front of me while Kip, now fully clothed, unlocks them. It’s immediate relief to have them gone, like a signal that snaps me back to reality.

“There you go,” Kip says, tucking the cuffs back in the pocket on his belt. “I hope that was impersonal enough for you.”

“It’ll suffice.” I wink. Turning around to gather my clothes, I get them on as quickly as possible. “I hate it when you get dressed first and make me wait.”

“That’s not my problem,” he says, getting himself straightened out. “Who knows when I’ll see that body again? I have to take it while I can get it.”

Pivoting, I look at the flamingo lights decorating the wall behind the bar while I slip on my shoes. I don’t want him to see the pink in my face, even though I could blame it on the three orgasms he just delivered with the quality of a professional.

“What’s on your agenda tonight?” I ask, opting for small talk over any awkward silence … or over against any unwanted segues into anything resembling serious discussions. 

“I think Machlan and Peck headed over to Crank, so I’ll drop by there before clocking out.”

“You aren’t going to do anything to Peck, are you?”

Kip chuckles. “Hell, no. Knowing him, he’ll be over by Shaw’s in the morning to apologize and will help on the farm out there all of next week even though old man Shaw will tell him not to worry about it.”

Fully dressed and pinked-cheeks gone, I suck in a breath and turn around again. “Then why did you come by here all ‘Where’s Peck?’ if you weren’t going to do anything to him?”

He shrugs. “He’s fun to fuck with. Besides, it looks good if I’m asked that I followed up with the report of an abandoned tractor. I wasn’t even sure Peck did it until he jetted out of here.”

“Oh my God.” I laugh. “He’s gonna kill you.”

“Not if he doesn’t find out.”

He saunters toward me, closing the distance wickedly slow. Each step notches up the heat in my core again.

“It was nice seeing you tonight,” he says. His tone is soft, yet rough, and it’s what I’ll reply over and over tonight as I hang out with my friends. It’s also the one I need to stop focusing on.

“Nice seeing you too.”

It’s simple and clear. Concise. To the point. Not full of any vulnerability or emotion.

Kip smirks. “We’re back to this, huh?”

“What are you talking about?” I scoff. “We never leave this.”

“How long do we have to go fucking in closed bars, on bales of hay in the middle of farms, or against ladders leading up to the water tower before you realize you like me? Huh?”

“I like ya, Kip,” I say grinning. “I like ya a lot. That’s why I let you keep fucking me.”

My heart hurts to say it because it’s not completely true. I could like him, maybe even in the way I think he likes me. If I thought he believed my dismissal, even for a second, I’d probably say something sweet. Thank God, he doesn’t.

“Lucky me.” He laughs. He presses a kiss to my cheek. “At least your consistent.”

“I appreciate consistency.”

He rolls his eyes, grabbing a walkie-talkie from the bar. “Fine. Be a hard-ass. Call me when you want more dick.”

“Will do. It was a pleasure doing business with you.”

I don’t get to see his face to study his reaction, but the little snort that drifts behind him as he turns toward the door makes me smile. His hand is on the knob, his back to me, when he stops.

“Hey, Nora?”

“Yeah?”

“My guilty pleasure is smart-mouthed bartenders with eyes the color of the water in movies and that smell like the flowers that used to grow behind my mom’s house.” He glances at me with those big, broody eyes. “See ya.”

To read more about the Gibson Boys, check out Crank & Craft on Amazon and in Kindle Unlimited.