What in the fuck was wrong with me?
Cord left to get my bag, and I unraveled from the eight hundred thousand or more thread-count linens we’d just messed up. I went into his bathroom and checked myself.
Yep. Hair was thoroughly screwed. Mascara and eyeliner smudged all over hell and back. Not my best look.
Then, without thinking, I walked on wobbly legs and sat down on his stool.
No biggie, right?
Wrong!
I’d forgotten to shut the door, and he wasn’t going to be gone long. I kicked things into high gear, praying I could finish up before he was any wiser.
How could I have done such a stupid thing?
Peeing with the door open was like a fifth anniversary thing. Not a fourth or fifth pseudo-date-in-a-relationship-that’s-going-to-end-in-a-few-weeks-anyway thing.
I gathered paper before I was done, and then I heard him. I was midstream, and there was no stopping.
God, don’t let him come in here.
Please, I’ll be good from now on. I’ll even break for birds.
My prayers were almost answered. He didn’t step in front of the door, but he dropped the bag in front of it and left.
I just knew he’d heard me, and he’d think I was disgusting.
I was disgusting.
Who does that? A woman who’d been fucked within one frazzled thread of her sanity. That’s who.
Our days were already numbered, even before my dumb-dumb piss with the door wide open move. So it didn’t even matter. I’d be gone the next weekend to the lake with my girls, then there’d be one more weekend or so, and then the wedding. Time would go fast.
Since I was embarrassed and needed a minute, I decided to take a quick, no-time-for-washing-the-sex-out-of-my-hair shower. With my bag inside, I made damn sure to close the door first.
Clean and clearer headed, I walked out into the main living area determined to pretend it never happened. I’d thought about putting my sweats on, since he’d asked me to bring them, but I needed to redeem myself. Whatever we were doing wasn’t going to last forever, but I was going to do everything I could to stretch it out—at least for the night.
Okay, maybe the weekend.
My duffel bag had provisions for an extended stay. Never the less, I didn’t wear a single thing I’d brought. Instead, I robbed his lucky Royals shirt from his closet and prayed for the best.
That was the only thing I was wearing when he saw me round the corner into the kitchen where he was talking on the phone.
“Shit. Great. Thanks,” he said in a rush and hung up, sliding his phone to the middle of the counter. His eyes roamed my body. “You have got to wear that all night.”
His smile was pleased, and not at all grossed out by me taking a public leak.
I took advantage, then like a fool pushed my luck. “Deal, but you’ll owe me.”
He leaned against the countertop and nodded for me to come closer, which I did. When I reached arm’s length, he put his hand up.
I stopped.
Biting his lip, he lifted the hem of the shirt and found I wasn’t wearing underwear.
He told God thank you, and then gently pulled out the neck on the old baseball shirt and looked down it. Again, he gave the all mighty his gratitude.
“What would you say if I told you I just ordered tacos and that I have a Capitan and coke ready for you over there?” Confidence lifted his brow, and he nodded behind me near the refrigerator—where I’ll be damned if he didn’t have a drink already made for me.
“I’d say we’re almost even.” Jumping for joy wasn’t a normal reaction of mine, but I thought about it.
Tacos and rum? It was almost like Christmas because—on top of it all—he was still shirtless.
“I’m going to grab a shower, but I’ll be out before it gets here.” He lifted his hand, I immediately thought he was going to give me another dog pat on the head, but instead he put his palm to my cheek and bent to kiss me.
I loved how his stupid lips paired with mine. They were always warm and soft, even when the damn things kissed the sense out of me.
While he showered, I made myself at home, poked around in his kitchen, and found that his pantry was well stocked with baking things and ingredients. I sipped from my glass and rummaged through his cabinets as I ate straight out of the bag of cheese popcorn.
It was the good stuff too. The kind that made my fingers all orange and yummy.
After my reconnaissance mission in his kitchen, I took my drink to the living room and quickly found the remote to his TV on the coffee table.
His furniture was nice. It looked new and stylish, but very cozy. One end of the sectional had a recliner, and then it wrapped around, capped with a chaise lounge on the other side where there were pillows and cashmere blankets. I wondered if he’d picked it all out himself, because it looked questionably similar to something I’d seen, straight out of an Ikea magazine.
In fact, his whole house was that way. Trendy, but perfectly lived in.
I was thinking how he definitely had an eye for nice things when I heard the back door open.
What kind of delivery guy just walks in?
Then again, the guy has his own cab driver.
“Hey, Cord! What are you doing?” a male voice shouted. I ran to the couch and jumped on it, pulling an insanely soft, white afghan over my naked bottom half.
“Where are you?” Trevor yelled as I caught his attention in the living room.
He froze.
I froze. Willed myself into invisibility, but failed.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“Um. Cord’s here right?”
I nodded.
He pointed, scratched his man bun, and then pointed down the hall.
I took a deep breath, hoping by the time I exhaled I’d know what to say, but I didn’t have to because Trevor reversed.
“I’m just gonna go.”
Why couldn’t he have been an unusual delivery driver?
“Okay,” I replied. “You know—“
He held his hand up. “No, I don’t want to.” He continued to back up, and when he reached the door he’d casually just bound through, he spun back around.
“Are you two…”
To be fair, he didn’t say what, so I just shrugged and hoped that was good enough. Apparently, it was because he left.
About a minute after I heard him pull out of the drive, Cord strolled down the hall wearing lounge pants and a tight-fitting undershirt.
“Are you finding anything to watch?” he asked as he pulled a beer from the fridge and headed my way. “Trevor keeps telling me to check out Shameless, but I haven’t started season one yet.”
The name Trevor made my asshole pucker and words tumble out of my face. “Oh, yeah. Yeah. I’ve heard that’s really good.”
My fingers were crossed under the blanket.
I knew firsthand it was good, but I was reeling from my run-in with his young friend.
Besides, who would pass up the opportunity to watch Kev’s full frontal in the first episode again? Sure as hell not me. I’d only watched the first couple shows a few months before anyway.
While he got the series cued up and thoughtfully refreshed my drink, I hardcore debated whether or not I should say anything about Trevor stopping by. But, then he came and sat beside me, and I didn’t want another weird thing to possibly ruin our night.
You piss like a full-blast fire hose in front of a guy and then tell me what you would have done.
When the tacos arrived, Cord answered the door because he was wearing clothes. He’d argued—and I quote—because he didn’t want the taco guy to see my pussy.
It was the hardest, pee-incident-erasing, friend’s-kid-stopping-by-forgetting swoon of my life.
Three captain and cokes and five episodes later, we were sharing the chaise lounge and the blanket from Heaven. I wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol, the afternoon sex fest, the belly full of tacos, or all three, but I was sleepy.
It didn’t help that Cord always found some way to rub my skin. It was so damn relaxing. Balled up beside him, purring with each stroke like a damn cat—which I truly believed he liked—I savored the pampering.
With every minute that passed, I got deeper and deeper into trouble.
Yawning, I kicked my leg over his, making myself even more comfortable.
“You’re tired. Let’s go to bed,” he said into my hair when the episode came to an end. “We can watch more some other time.”
I sat up first, since I was basically on top of him. After kicking my other bare leg free of the blanket, I stood and stretched. I swayed, waiting for him to get up, but then he tossed me over his shoulder as he got to his feet.
I didn’t even try to fight him on it, and he didn’t rub it in. I hated that the night was coming to an end, but my eyes were heavy and they needed sleep.
He must have remade the bed sometime around when he took the shower. Because when he tugged my legs across his chest and I found myself in front of him, in his arms, he was climbing into it like nothing had happened there earlier.
It was perfect and cool, and beside him, I fell asleep.
Later, I rolled over to see where he was, wanting to get close after separating in the night, but he wasn’t there.
Then I heard him—peeing with the door open.
It was just as weird as when I’d done it, but at least we were even.
“Well, I’ve kind of been seeing someone,” I confessed to my dad on the phone as I drove down I-70. He’d already been skirting the subject.
It was funny. My mom rarely pried for information with regards to my private life. My dad, on the other hand, always brought it up.
“Really now. Do you think I’ll ever get to meet this one?” His teasing voice filled my Elantra.
I wasn’t sure why I’d been the one to bring it up with him that time, but I had. I supposed it might be because I couldn’t gab to my usual peanut gallery—Becca the Blabber Mouth or Jodi. But I was dying to talk about Cord with someone. Strangely, it just ended up being my dad.
The truth came out easily. “I think you’d like him.”
“Well, Angela doesn’t get off work for another hour or, so I’m on the porch with a cigar. Tell me about this guy.”
I shifted in my seat and sat up straighter. “Okay, his name is Cord. He loves the Royals and says he can bake. He’s got a bike, but don’t worry, he makes me wear a helmet.” Total information dump, high school girl style.
“I like him already.”
I laughed knowing that would catch his attention. “He’s weird and kind of funny sometimes—I don’t know. He’s friends with Becca and Reuben.”
“What do they think?”
I groaned. “Well, they don’t really know we’ve been hanging out.”
“Why not?”
My first impulse was to tell him the un-sugar-coated reality, that whatever Cord was doing with his daughter, was most likely not long-term. However, I didn’t feel like saying it out loud, not when I was having so much fun listing all the things I liked about him.
Things I would want in a relationship.
“Dad, that would make it so awkward later. Besides, Becca is too busy with the wedding to give two shits about who I’m seeing at the moment.”
“Fine. What does Jodi say?”
Think fast, Rogers.
“Oh, she’s busy with Max.” I pressed my back against the seat and locked my elbows straight, stretching as I drove. “Like I said, we’re just kind of seeing each other. It’s not major or anything. It’s fun.”
“It’s fun now because it’s a secret,” he alleged.
Was that what the allure was? Shit.
“I’m just going with the flow, Dad. You know? It’s been nice having someone to do stuff with. Everyone’s been so busy lately.”
“Okay, you’re going to do what you want anyway, so I’ll keep my advice to myself. You’ve always been stubborn. You know you kept your training wheels on until you were like thirteen.”
Here we go.
“No, I didn’t,” I argued.
“Okay, until you were nine.”
“I wasn’t ready.” It wasn’t the first time I’d heard the story.
“That’s what I’m saying. You do things in your time. Dana time.” He chuckled.
“Yeah. Yeah. I get that from you.” I took a sip from the McDonald’s fountain coke I’d brought for the drive.
Talking with my dad made the time pass, and when we finally hung up, I scanned the radio for some driving tunes. When I landed on a station playing “Lay Your Hands on Me” by the Jovi himself, I sang it at the top of my lungs.
I’d have a little over a day to get the cabin prepared for the weekend, but judging by how tidy Cord’s house was, I didn’t expect it to take that long to get it ready for us four girls.
We didn’t need much more than a refrigerator to keep our drinks cold and lawn chairs. Becca wanted a fun getaway where she could just chill out and take a break from planning. The mission was to relax, talk until we lost our voices, and get drunk.
It was dark when I drove through Osage Beach, following the directions on my car’s GPS. I turned onto a curvy lane lined with trees. Since I knew I was getting close, I drove slower to read the numbers on the mailboxes as I passed them.
Sometimes you can’t trust the navigation thing. Trust me, I’d ended up in some pretty strange places when I’d first moved to Kansas City.
When I found the right one, I turned onto a paved drive that almost immediately went sharply downhill. There were lights on the large garage, which was about all you could see of the cabin.
I pulled out the garage door opener, which Cord had given me to use, from the console and pressed the button.
Unless he had two of the same damn truck, he was fucking there.
I’d just talked to him that afternoon, before I left my house, and he hadn’t said anything about making a trip to the lake.
Didn’t he think I could manage?
If he didn’t trust me in his house, then why had he agreed to let us use it?
I put my car in park on the concrete driveway and climbed out.
Whatever.
It was his place and there was nothing I could do about him being there. My temper was flaring, so I quickly dismissed the flash of excitement I felt about getting to see him.
With the trunk open, I began yanking the totes I’d brought with things I thought we’d need.
“How was your drive?”
I peeked around my car and answered, “Nice and quiet.” Yeah, I was being a dick, but why didn’t he just tell me he was coming too? I didn’t need a babysitter. Or a chaperone.
He picked up on my mood, “Whoa. You’re at the lake now, and it sounds like someone needs a drink.”
I could have used one. Or six.
When he got to me, I didn’t hesitate to load his arms with bags before he could manipulate the situation by touching me.
He stood there like a coatrack as I hung bags on him to carry inside. I even looped one around his neck. I figured eventually he’d tell me that was enough, but he didn’t. He only shifted and held his arm out farther for another.
When I didn’t have any more to adorn him with, he puckered his lips and bent forward for me to reach them.
As aggravated as I was, it was hard to get too angry when he looked that ridiculous. My retaliation had backfired and only made him cuter, which was frustrating in a completely different way.
I lifted up on my toes to meet him halfway, but in a show of defiance—I am a red head after all—I gave him my cheek.
That didn’t detour him, he slapped a big wet kiss on my face and moaned like he enjoyed it.
He probably did—the weirdo.
I refused to fall prey so easily, but when he got to my ear it started to tickle, and I squirmed away and headed for the cabin.
And, by the way, holy shit. If that was a cabin, then Disneyworld was just a playground.
Even though it was almost completely dark, the two-story window in the main room hosted a view of the lake that stopped me in my tracks. I unloaded what I was carrying on the counter, and then let myself wander off.
Big leather sofas. A massive fireplace opposite the wall of glass that framed the lakeside of the house. Double staircases tucked against the window, led to a floor below.
“Do you have more in the back seat, Oscar the Grouch?”
I wasn’t facing him, so it was safe to smile, but he wasn’t going to charm me that easily. I wasn’t a fool.
“A cooler and my suitcase.”
I leaned over the railing to see if I could get a glimpse of the floor below, but all I could see was a landing. Out the window, the back of the house had a massive deck, and beyond that, there was a lit path down to a dock.
I don’t know why I was surprised, but I’d been expecting a modest, yet cozy, little cabin on the lake. This was lovely. Luxurious. Fucking awesome.
After another minute or two, I headed back into the kitchen area to start unloading the shit I’d brought.
Through the open door to the garage, he yelled, “Do you want me to put this lifetime supply of wine in the refrigerator out here?”
I followed the sound of his voice and popped my head around the frame. He had the cooler open, and he held up two of the more than twelve bottles I’d brought.
He looked accusingly at me, but his exaggerated smile indicated he was just giving me shit.
Lifting my eyebrows, I gave him my best innocent closed mouth smile. “What? It’s a bachelorette party,” I defended.
His head fell back in understanding. “Oh, I see. And you were in charge of the open bar.”
“Who says that’s for anyone but me?”
“Dana,” he challenged.
“The refrigerator is fine.” Then I went back into the house before I tackled him. Why do guys look hotter when you’re kind of pissed?
I hadn’t brought that much food because it was just the lake and not Mars. Plus, I’d planned on going shopping the next day.
If you’d never been to the Ozarks, then you probably couldn’t understand how good the shopping was, but here were outlets for days and so many unique shops to wander in and out of—if you had the time.
I wouldn’t call myself a shopper, per se. In fact, I hated shopping with people, but if given the time, and when I had a little cushion built up in my budget, I could get lost doing it for hours on end. Alone.
Which was what I’d planned to do with my extra time the next day, but that had all been foiled by the six-foot-whatever giant shithead who walked into the kitchen, holding up a half empty container of Tide, looking at me like I was the only lunatic in the room.
“You said it was a cabin,” I explained. “I didn’t know if your towels were going to be all musty. You know? I was just going to rewash some things, if I needed to. Weird smelling towels freak me out.”
Tell me one thing that’s worse than a sour towel right when you’re fresh from the shower. That’s another kind of surprise that I didn’t like. Add that to the list, right after finding a sexy man in a fancy cabin the night you’re on a mini vacation. Alone.
Yeah, I had to remind myself why I was upset about that again, too.
He thinks you’re helpless.
No. I knew better than that.
Dig, Dana. You were so pissed.
He didn’t tell you.
Yeah, that was it.
But even though I was latched onto that argument, I was also beginning to see how weak it was. Whatever. My attitude didn’t seem to faze him anyway. He was still all nods and winks and smiles and ass pats as he passed by me.
When things were organized into their for-the-weekend spots, he grabbed my hand and kissed my knuckles.
Ugh. I was weak.
Besides, I was in a beautiful place for the weekend, which I was about to spend with my girlfriends. A place this guy had offered to us—for free, mind you. I’d be searching AirBnB to see what places like that went for by the weekend. He could be making a lot of money.
Shit, maybe he did. I didn’t know.
My hand still in his, he tugged me. “Come on. Let me show you around the place and how to do a few things.”
I took a deep breath, letting my hostility dwindle. I was being a baby, and he was being nicer than I deserved.
Everyone has those moments, right? It was probably because I was hormonal, it was almost the end of the month. Maybe it was a good thing he was there that night, because I was sure the next week I’d be off the grid, so to speak. I’d been known to go completely radio silent those days.
He walked me down the hall on the first floor showing me different rooms and suites.
Soon, I was holding his one hand with all ten of my fingers—one hand on top, the other on bottom—as we dashed in and around the cabin.
When we got to the master bathroom, he led me to the big shelf on the wall where wash cloths and towels were displayed like piled books in different colors of blue.
He squared my shoulders with his and pulled one off the shelf beside my head, handed it to me, and confidently demanded, “Sniff it.”
I closed my eyes and buried my face in the fluffy azure terrycloth. It smelled just like the ones he had at home.
“Does your highness approve?”
Dick. Meh. Adorable dick.
I lunged like I was going to attack him. He humored me, flinching with his hands up in defense. I reached for his ears and pulled him to me. I pretended I was going to eat his face off, but then kissed him lightly until he hummed against my mouth.
His fingers pushed my hair away from my face. “There she is.”
“Hey.” I wasn’t done yet and kissed his bottom lip again.
He groaned, bent more, and then wrapped me up in his arms, letting my feet dangle in front of his legs as he held us face to face. “I missed you again.”
“You did?” Those words made me feel so unusual. Kind of sick, but in a lovely way.
“Yeah. What’s that all about?” he asked.
I whispered, “I don’t know.” Something in that moment felt very real. Well, very believable, at least.
“You missed me too, huh?” His forehead pressed against mine. We shared a split second where I was pretty sure we both knew what the answer was before I answered.
“Yeah.”
God, he was good.
Nose to nose, I wished the wedding was later in the summer, instead of only a few weeks away.
He closed his eyes and tilted his head to kiss me properly. It was another one of those times where I was caught up in the sight of him up close. Maybe I was stupid, but there was something very sexy about a man with his eyes shut. Additionally, he did this eyebrow bunching thing when I touched my tongue with his which got me every time.
I quit staring as soon as I could so I wouldn’t get busted for looking like a psychopath again.