Page 40 of Big Dix

TWENTY-THREE

Evelyn

The morning sun peeks through my curtains, and I rub the sleep from my eyes. I moan, my body recalling all the delicious positions I was bent into last night. Atticus screwed me fifty ways to Sunday, and I can’t wait for a repeat. I roll my wrists, remembering how it felt to be tied up, and of course, I loved it. I was a bit hesitant because I don’t let anyone have that type of control. But for him? Sign me up! He effortlessly dominated his opponent, and I was all too happy to be conquered.

I stretch my arms over my head and my legs out as far as they go and then roll over to see what Atticus looks like in the morning light. But my eyes land on an empty bed. Huh, okay?

“Atticus?”

I don’t hear anything.

Did he leave?

I get up and grab my robe off the bench at the foot of my bed and check around my room. His clothes are gone. Only a few hours ago, they were in a heap on the floor. If I didn’t know better, I’d say it was a dream. There isn’t a trace of him left behind—just that soreness, evidence of what transpired, and whispered fingerprint bruises on my body. A shiver rolls through me just thinking about it. Making my way to my bathroom, I smother a yawn. The cool tile against my bare feet helps snap me awake, and I turn on my shower and brush my teeth while I wait for the water to warm up.

I wonder when he left?

I didn’t hear him get up, and he was here just a few hours ago when I went to get a drink of water. He didn’t say anything about leaving when I climbed back in bed, and we went for another round. That time, he was sweet and attentive. I fell asleep with his arms around me, and it was honestly the most peaceful rest I have had in a while.

Nothing lingered in my mind in that moment. Not what happened between us or what any of this could mean for us.Hell, is there even an us?But now, I have a million questions about what last night was. Was it just a wham-bam, thank you, Evelyn? I mean, the old ho in me is okay with that, but the new me, the one who has lusted after this man for the better part of a year and planned our wedding down to the damn flowers, is a bit confused.

I mean, I shouldn’t be, right? It wasn’t stated that what we had was anything more than what it was. Two horny people getting busy. But why does that make me so sad, like I’ve lost something? I step under the warm spray and lean my head back to wet my hair before grabbing my shampoo and lathering my hair, the vanilla scent making me a bit hungry. It’s my day off, but I’m going to get ready and head into the bakery. A good cup of coffee and a chat with Jen might help me see things clearer.

I put my hair in a towel and dry myself off with another before heading to my closet to pick out some clothes for the day. Black leggings, a cardigan, and a gray T-shirt that Christina had made for us that says Taco Tribe make the cut. After getting dressed, I make my way toward the kitchen to get some water when I see a note on my kitchen island. You couldn’t slap the smile off of my face as I see my name written across the torn envelope from a piece of junk mail nearby.

Even his handwriting is sexy.

I frown as I read what Atticus has written.

Had a blast. I had to get to practice.

Catch you later, City Girl

Well, shit. That feels like a total booty call thing to say. Why does that bother me?

The bellover the door to the bakery chimes as I push it open, then stop to lock it behind me.

Jen glances up from behind the display counter, where she fills up a plate of peanut butter fudge. “Hey, it’s your day off. Why are you here?”

We have finally hired some help, so at least now we each get a day off without having to close the bakery. Those extra dollars will come in handy.

“Good morning to you too, sunshine.”

She waves me off. “You know what I mean. How did the date go?”

“Funny you should ask. I’m not sure.”

“How exactly are you not sure?”

“Well, we went to dinner where his ex-girlfriend from hell showed up.”

Jen sets the now-empty pan down. “Oh, hell.”

“Yeah,oh, hell, indeed. I just sat there and ate bread. It was a whole thing. But he hustled her out, got her in a car, and sent her packing.”

“Follow me to the kitchen?” She heads toward the back, and I trail behind. “What did he have to say about it? I bet you were pissed.”

“Oh, I was. She is a grade-A bitch. She tried to dismiss me. It was ridiculous.”

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