Arguing Plus Benefits
"NO."
The word was out of my mouth before I could articulate the reason why I didn't want Will to kiss me. The truth was, I wanted to kiss him, I wanted to explore that sensual mouth, get up close and personal, again, with the body I had slammed into when I first met him. I wanted to do more than kiss him. I wanted to feel every inch of his huge, hard body and I wanted him to satisfy the parts of me that tingled when I thought about him. I was suffering from withdrawal from not touching him, even though I'd just met him. Guess this is what happened when you met a man while he was naked.
But still, no on the kiss. Or, as I thought more about it, perhaps hell no.
His eye twitched. "What do you mean, no?" He paused, and then he smiled a sexy half smile. "So you'll kiss me anyway, even if I still call you names?" Now I was seeing a new side to him: Playful Will. I liked Playful Will as much, or more, as Naughty Sense of Humor Will and Mischievous Will. It balanced out Asshole Will and Conservative Will, and was intriguing. But no.
"No. You're my boss." There, a concrete reason percolated to the surface of my brain and came out of my mouth.
And threw cold water on everything, because I might be a party girl but I wasn’t stupid and I was not going to throw away a job that I really wanted for a guy no matter how handsome he was.
"I'm not your boss," he said immediately and resolutely.
Now it was my turn to twitch. "How's that?"
"Your checks are signed by the Headlands Program, not the Ranch. I run the Ranch. Janine is your boss. Not me. You're just living on my land for the summer. The nonprofit has a separate board of directors from my family trust, provides its own staffing, and I donate the space, animals, and supplies."
Well, that cleared one hurdle.
I wondered why I threw so many hurdles up if there was no way in hell I’d ever be with a Republican.
But still, the answer was no kissing, and I thought of more reasons why. "You chew."
"So?"
"It's disgusting."
He stared at me and gave me a sort of chin lift. "What else you got?"
The big one. The sin. The crime—at least in my way of thinking.
"You're a Republican. I have never, to my knowledge, ever kissed a Republican."
His grin was now a full smile, not a half smile, and honestly, it was dazzling, like before. "Let's try this. I'll give you a choice. We can continue arguing politics all summer—and I think we're a match for each other and I'm looking forward to the arguments, darlin'—and I don't lay a hand on you. Or, we can continue arguing politics all summer, but I can fuck your hot body whenever you want. Which do you pick?"
I spasmed. His phone rang.
"'lo?" He strolled off to the side to take his call, his hand in his pocket, and I patted Trixie, who had come up around my legs.
I wouldn't have guessed that this was the way that my summer adventure was going to happen. Still, I was wildly amused and turned on, but simultaneously repelled. Decisions, decisions.
I'd just met the guy yesterday, but it wasn't like I'd never had a one-night stand before. I could be a bit wild. Well, total party girl might be a better description of me. But this was potentially more than a one-night stand. It could be for the summer, and frankly, that sounded like fun. Although I didn't need all the bickering that was destined to occur.
As I thought about it, however, I knew that if things didn't go well with him, I’d have to avoid him for months and that could be awkward, especially if I knew how he was in bed.
Yum, Will in bed.
But things were already awkward. I’d already had a preview of his body and it was spectacular. I wasn't avoiding him because I had seen him naked. Quite the opposite, actually.
So, what to do? I was definitely attracted to him and he was definitely my opposite. I felt pulled to him and pushed away at the same time.
He was nothing like the guys I’d dated before, who’d been mostly crunchy bohemian types, and a little feminine, honestly. Will was red meat man and I was a vegan. I really didn’t think that this would work.
And a small voice inside me said that I was scared that if it did work, I’d just have to leave him at the end of summer.
As I thought about it, though, we were already sniping at each other at every chance, so it was hard to see how things would get any worse. Maybe they'd get better.
I needed to know more before I made a decision.
He finished his call and walked back to me and Trixie, stepping just a little closer to me than societal conventions allowed. I felt him even though I didn’t touch him.
"How Republican, Republican are you?"
He leaned into me, his eyes amused, his voice low and certain. "Very."
This meant, as I suspected, that we disagreed on all the things.
Desperately wishing for a way to make this work, a flash of hope ran through me. Maybe we were just arguing semantics.
And I chided myself. How easily I considered setting aside my deeply-held beliefs just because of one hot man. What kind of feminist was I where my brain turned off because my body was turned on? Still, I needed to find out more.
"What do you think of women’s rights? Are you a feminist?"
All the other guys I’d dated said they were. They might have said it to get me naked, but at least they’d said it.
He shook his head. Uh-oh. My stomach dropped and I felt disheartened. This was not acceptable. "Not really. Guys and girls are different. Treat 'em different. You gonna argue with me 'bout that?"
"Obviously."
He raised an eyebrow and gave me that devastating smile.
"Bring it on."
Ohmigod, I wanted him for real now, and I was pissed that he turned my brain to mush. I’m smarter than this. I stepped back, needing space from him and then I realized something. "Since you're not my boss, I can tell you, you're an ignorant dick for saying something like that. Women are still fighting for equal rights. The pay gap and the glass ceiling exist and we have to do something about them."
He smiled again and my fucking panties got wet. "And you're a commie pinko. What else you got?"
Seriously? "Commie pinko? What is this, 1969?"
A wicked look came over his face and he dropped his voice so low I felt it in my groin. "What's that about sixty-nine?"
Walked into that one. And then the idea of my mouth on Will with his mouth on me made me wetter.
No.
I couldn’t.
Or I could.
Gah.
"How old are you?" I finally asked, changing the subject.
"Thirty-four. You?"
"I'm thirty-two."
None of this was helping me to make a decision of whether to go after him. I needed to press him about his backwards thinking. But I also wanted his body pressing into mine.
He let me off the hook by saying, "Tell you what. I'll show you some more of the ranch and you can decide whether you want arguing or arguing plus benefits."
I didn't know if I could stay focused on the tour of the ranch, and judging by the way he had his hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans, neither could he.
Still, I knew that I couldn't take him up on it yet. I wanted to, badly, but no.
Maybe.