Chapter Seven
There were so many things on the party agenda that day, Sidney couldn’t decide what to do. But one of them was definitely going to be Avoid Cody Silver.
She couldn’t deny that a part of her wanted to find him and jump his bones again—last night had been that good—but all the other parts of her screamed it was a bad idea.
Cody Silver was a slippery slope.
If a woman let herself nibble on his brownies, the next week she would, no doubt, be standing in front of an open kitchen cabinet eating frosting out of the tub with a spoon.
Okay, a strange analogy. Maybe she was hungry.
“What do you think?” Amy said, flicking through the agenda. They were all hanging out in the library because it was the only place absent of squealing. Tibby’s friends had infested the entire ranch and were, apparently, only capable of emitting high-pitched alienlike shrieks that sadly, dogs and everyone could hear.
For example, a pod of them were riding Cody’s ponies in the paddock—which amused Sidney because, why the hell would anyone want to ride in the paddock when there was an entire ranch to explore? But given their screeches of horror, venturing beyond the fence would be tantamount to a suicide mission.
Sidney herself might have enjoyed a pony ride, but Tibby’s friends had co-opted all the ponies and the poor dears would probably never be the same. Did ponies get PTSD? They probably did. She made a mental note to take them some apples later.
“The pole dancing lessons in the bunkhouse sound like fun,” Amy said.
“They do,” Sidney sighed. What a pity the class would probably be full of howler monkeys.
“Naughty BINGO? Cowboys Against Humanity?”
Sidney’s head came up sharply. “Cowboys Against Humanity?”
Porsche grinned. “It’s just like the card game, only Claire has written her own black cards.”
“You’re kidding me.”
“Totally not.”
“That sounds like a blast.” But she had to sigh again. “They’ll probably go to that too.”
“Tonight there’s a skinny-dipping party at the lake.”
“Awesome.” She could envision it now. Way too much bare skin. Lots of thrashing in the dark. Shrill cries echoing in the night. “Maybe I’ll turn in early.”
Porsche frowned at her. “Don’t be such an Eeyore.”
Sidney tossed a pillow at her; it bounced off. “I’m not the Eeyore.” She’d never been the Eeyore. Hanna was the Eeyore. She always had been. And speaking of which . . . “Where’s Hanna?”
“In your room,” Amy said. She flicked through the agenda again, as though the options might have changed. “She’s all thinky today.”
Hanna had good reason to be thinky. That morning at breakfast she’d finally admitted to Sidney why she was marrying Zack and, as Sidney had suspected, it wasn’t for love. To her dismay, Hanna had revealed that their father was in danger of losing the family ranch, and Zack had promised to pay off their debt if Hanna married him. The thought made Sidney’s blood go cold. She’d known, known, it had to be something like that.
Hanna had also admitted that she and Logan had . . . enjoyed each other the night before.
Hanna had a lot to think about.
Porsche sighed. She rearranged herself on the sofa and stared up at the ceiling. “I hate when that happens.”
Amy grinned. “When Hanna gets thinky?”
“When anyone gets thinky, really.”
“It does harsh the buzz, doesn’t it?” Amy took a sip of her iced tea. “Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I’m going for a walk.”
“There’s a pretty path to a pond,” Porsche said. “Why don’t I show you?”
“Okay.” Amy groaned as she hefted herself up from the floor. “Wanna come?”
Sidney shook her head. “Naw. I think I’ll just hang out here ’til lunch.”
“Okay,” Amy said.
Porsche lowered her brows. “You’re not getting thinky too, are you?”
“Perish the thought.” She wasn’t thinky in the slightest. In fact, her brain didn’t seem to want to do anything much at all.
Except obsess over Cody.
Which was probably even worse.
***
To her utter chagrin, her thoughts summoned him.
Or at least that’s the way it felt.
She was just lying there, draped over a very comfy easy chair trying not to think of him when she saw Cody whip past the library door.
He heart did an annoying flippy thing and then plummeted when he just kept going. Surely she didn’t want him to actually come in here and talk to her. She was avoiding him after all.
But then there was a screech as his boots skidded on the hardwood floor and seconds later, he appeared in the doorway. He looked terribly nonchalant. Far too nonchalant for someone who was actually nonchalant. Also, he was out of breath.
She willed herself not to move, though she had the urge to bolt upright and fix her hair or some such nonsense.
She was who she was, tangles and all.
“Oh, hey Sidney,” he said as he adjusted his shirt and strolled into the room. She noticed he kicked the door shut with his heel. “Whatcha doin’?”
She shrugged. “Just hanging out.”
He frowned. “Aren’t you enjoying the party?”
“Of course I am. I don’t get to just hang out at home.”
“Really?” He took the seat across from hers. His brow wrinkled. “What is it you do?”
The fact that he didn’t know, that he’d never bothered to ask, irritated her. Also—not that she was ashamed or anything—she really didn’t want to talk about it. Her job was uninspiring, but it paid the bills. That was all that mattered. “I work.”
“I figured as much,” he said in a dry tone. “But what do you do?”
“A little of everything.” And a lot of nothing. Though there was always a morning rush at the Coffee Shack, late afternoons were usually a yawn fest. Between customers Sidney put on her sweater—because it sometimes got cold in her bikini—and read a book.
She read a lot of books.
“I get it. You don’t want to talk about work.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Do you like living in Dallas?”
She eyed him sharply. What was he doing? Playing twenty questions? Why was he suddenly so interested in her? There had to be a reason, and it probably had nothing to do with any burning desire he had to know her better. This was Cody Silver. Whatever it was, it had to be about him.
She decided to play along though, simply to see where this was going.
And also, she was bored.
“Dallas is nice. Big. Busy.”
“Do you ever miss home?”
“Home?” What a funny word. It had so many meanings.
“Snake Gully?”
Oh. That home. “I miss my family. Wish I could spend more time with Dad.”
“Yeah. Sorry about your mom, by the way.” In the past five years, Mom had started slipping away, a piece at a time. Now Sidney was lucky if she even recognized her youngest daughter.
“It’s hardest on Dad,” she said.
“I guess.”
“Do you ever think about moving back?”
Sidney chuckled. “Have you been talking to Hanna?”
“Um, no. Why?”
“It’s her mission in life to get me to come back.”
“Would that be so bad?”
It would be. If he was here. Seeing him more frequently than once every ten years would definitely wear down her resolve. Hell, one day, and she’d already hopped into bed with him. What did that imply?
“People don’t move back to their hometowns.”
“Some do.”
“Like who?”
“Cade did.”
She snorted. “Cade was discharged from the military. That’s different.”
“Not really. He could have moved to Dallas. Or anywhere.”
“Cade had a reason to move back here.”
“And you don’t?” The way he pounced on that, like cat on a quivering mouse, made her think this had been his angle all along. “Your mom? Your dad?”
“Trying to make me feel guilty for living the high life in Dallas?” In a dingy one-room studio over a Chinese restaurant in a rough part of town? “Trust me. That won’t work. Hanna’s tried it.”
“Surely there are other reasons you should move back?”
She eyed him warily. “What are you driving at?”
For some reason, he looked flustered, like a cock with ruffled feathers. “Isn’t it obvious?”
“No. It’s not.”
He sighed and scrubbed his face. “I’m talking about us, Sidney.”
This, of all things, made her bolt upright in her chair and stare at him in shock. “Us?” she squeaked—like that mouse.
“Yes.” He smiled. A gamine grin, with dimples and all. The one that made clear his delight that she’d uttered that two-letter word he coveted.
“Cody, there is no us.”
His expression crumpled. “But—last night?”
Seriously? Seriously?
“I made myself clear. I thought I did. That was a one-night stand.”
He put out a lip. “I thought you liked it.”
She didn’t want to hurt his feelings. “I did enjoy it. But it was a one-night stand.” She studied his expression, and it hit her. “You thought if I enjoyed it enough, I’d want more?”
“Well . . . yeah.”
He had no idea how close he was to the truth.
“Cody, let’s be honest with each other. Okay?”
His eyes narrowed, but he muttered, “Okay.”
“I have no intention of becoming involved with you.”
His expression was priceless. It was probably the only time he’d ever heard those words. His lips worked. He sputtered a few half words and then finally said, “Why? Because I’m dangerous?”
Lord. She should never have admitted that to him. The knowledge gave him way too much power. She leaned forward and set her hand on his knee, met his gaze, and said, “No. Because you are a man whore.”
He lurched back. His nostrils flared. “I am not a man whore,” he declared with all the outrage of a Southern belle accused of tippling mint juleps before noon. She thought he might perhaps succumb to a fit of the vapors.
“Come on. You’ve slept with legions.”
“I most certainly have not.”
She had to snort. “I’ve heard of your legendary prowess from at least twenty women.”
“Just because they say something, doesn’t make it true.”
“So you don’t have legendary prowess?”
“That part was true.” He flashed a grin. “But I can’t help what other people say. Who told you I slept with them?”
“Everyone.”
“Names. I want names.”
“Read the phone book.”
He glowered. “Come on. Give me just one.”
“Okay. Tibby.”
His nostrils flared and he gaped at her. “Tibby Pucey?”
“You know another Tibby?”
“And you believed her? You actually thought I would sleep with Tibby?”
“I thought you would sleep with anyone.”
“What kind of man do you think I am?”
“A man whore.” Had she not made that point already?
“Well, I’m not. And I certainly never slept with Tibby.”
“Right.”
He set his palm to his chest. “I’m wounded that you don’t believe me.”
“Poor baby.”
His gaze became more intense. “I swear to you, Sidney. I’ve never lied to you.”
Something in his tone touched her, spoke to her. And she had to acknowledge, he’d never been a liar. Lots of other nasty things, but not a liar.
The trouble was, when one was faced with multitudes of accounts that confirmed a belief, it was hard to accept the one that differed.
“Why would all those women claim to have slept with you when they hadn’t?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know. Maybe to look good to their friends?”
Oh, brother. He was beyond arrogant.
But, if she was being honest with herself, she could see it—it annoyed the hell out of her, but she could see it.
She stood with a huff. “Well, this has been fun, but I better go check on Hanna.”
“Wait.” He caught her arm. And, when she scowled at him, “Please. This isn’t what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“What then?”
“I wanted to talk about last night. How meaningful it was to me.”
Oh, he had it down pat, the humble expression, the awestruck-tone, the puppy-dog eyes.
“And?”
He swallowed. “Well, was it good for you?”
She patted him on the chest because he looked as though he could use some encouragement. “It was very good.”
His Adam’s apple worked again. It almost seemed as though he was nervous, which was ridiculous. This was Cody. “Then what about tonight?”
Everything in her seized. Tonight? Again? How freaking tempting was that?
She cleared her throat. “We agreed on a one-night stand, remember?”
“What’s a second night? In the grand scheme of things?”
Damn, he was convincing. Or maybe it was her . . . her waning resolve.
This always happened. He’d get close, close enough to touch, and she’d start melting into a pile of goo. In an attempt to rebuild her walls—or patch them at least—she shot him a carefree smile and said, “I’ll think about it.”
He stared at her. A muscle bunched in his cheek. “Think about this,” he growled, and then yanked her into his arms.
His kiss was quick, harsh, and hungry and she couldn’t help responding.
As always, it was a rush of sensation, of taste and smell and magnificent touch. It took everything in her to detach from the spell he wove and push away.
“Yeah. Okay,” she said. “I’ll think about that.” She patted his chest again as she turned away . . . but then she froze, because Porsche stood in the doorway, her eyes wide and wounded.
She’d seen the whole thing. Or, at the very least, the one part that mattered.
With a strangled sound, something like a sob, her friend whirled away.
Hell.
Sidney wrenched out of Cody’s hold and raced after her.
What had she been thinking? How could she have completely forgotten about Porsche? How could she have forgotten that half the reason she was determined to avoid Cody was because her best friend was head over heels in love with him?
What kind of horrible friend was she?
Porsche was a tough kid. She could handle a lot. But her one tender spot was for Cody Silver. She’d been in love with him her whole life.
And now, she’d seen Sidney kissing him. The thought made her stomach churn.
She found Porsche pacing on the porch and headed to her side.
Pity she had no idea what to say. Fortunately, she knew that in a time like this, it was better to let Porsche speak first. It didn’t take long.
“I can’t believe you kissed him,” she wailed.
Sidney winced. “Technically, he kissed me.”
“I can’t believe he kissed you.” Porsche threw up her hands and paced some more.
Sidney blinked. “Is that so unbelievable?”
“He’s never kissed me.”
“Only because of Ford, I’m sure.” Porsche’s brother had made it clear—to any man in town with a protuberance even resembling a penis—that his sister was off-limits.
The suggestion caused Porsche to pause in her pacing. She tipped her head and tapped her chin. “Do you think?”
“Of course. You’re beautiful and charming and everything. What man wouldn’t want to kiss you?”
“All of them, apparently.”
“Again, probably Ford’s fault.”
“Don’t patronize me. We all know everything is Ford’s fault.”
“True.”
Porsche whirled on her heel and frowned at Sidney for a long, long while. As though she was willing her to make a confession. That was not going to happen. Finally she said, in a gut-wrenching tone, “Are you having an affair with Cody?”
“No.” Not only no, but hell no. It was a one-night stand. Maybe a two-night stand. Not an affair.
“Because if you are, I’d like to know.”
“It’s not an affair.”
For some reason, Porsche’s eyes widened. “There’s an it?”
“A what?”
“An it! You have an it with Cody?”
Shit.
She tried for a cool and composed tone. “An it is not an affair.”
“Don’t try to bandy words with me.”
“I’m not bandying anything. I swear to you, Cody and I are not having an affair. We’re not having an anything.” That was kind of a lie, but it was the kind of kind-of-lie you used when your friend’s eyes were threatening tears and you really didn’t want to admit the thing that would make her cry more. Besides. Whatever it had been with Cody was over. It had to be. For so many reasons.
She pulled Porsche into her arms and patted her back and said, over and over and over again, “I swear, there’s nothing between me and Cody Silver.”
And when he stepped out on the porch and heard her, she met his gaze with all the aplomb she could muster. Because even if a part of her didn’t want it to be true, it had to be.
She was done with Cody.
And when this party was over, she would return to Dallas and find some other guy and date the shit out of him.