Page 2 of Bad Boy in Her Bed

“The blue crossover in front of the grocer.”Aiming her key fob at it, she unlocked the car and flung a door open, crouching down with impressive balance as she held out her hand.“I really appreciate this.There are so many nooks and crannies in this thing, I probably shoved it deep under something when I was looking for it earlier.If you could work redial duty, I’ll listen for the buzz and rifle around for it.”

He passed her his phone and glanced inside her car, spotting an Epson Eagles travel mug from the town’s high school.Accepting his cell from her after she dialed her own number, he watched her stretch across the driver’s seat to follow the faint hum of her phone.The tight fit of her pants provided him with a rather enjoyable view, one his mind was still struggling to place.Hitting redial, he tore his eyes off her backside and leaned against the hood of the car.“Any luck?”

Easing out onto her feet, she ran a hand through her hair and tossed her sunglasses onto the dash.“It’s in there.And it’s taunting me.Smack that redial again while I go in the back way.”

Sweet mercy, he knew those gunmetal blue eyes.

Jocelyn fucking Carter.

There wasn’t a freshman boy in his ninth-grade class who hadn’t known of the stunning senior, who hadn’t had to pick up his tongue every time she passed through the dingy halls of their high school.

Tall and lean, she’d reminded his fourteen-year-old self of a gazelle when she ran the track every day after school, her blond hair pulled back into a tight ponytail swinging along with her gait.He—and almost every other guy on the practice field—watched her between drills, mesmerized by the steady, unrelenting pace she set right out of the gate.

“Again,” she called over to him, her red stilettos now abandoned on the cement while she knelt in the back seat.“I think I’ve located it.”

Hitting the redial once more, he ran a hand through his hair.

Jocelyn.Fucking.Carter.

He already knew her name before he stepped foot in high school, thanks to his older brother.With almost two years on Birch, Winter Baker and his degenerate buddies were a year younger than Epson High’s golden girl.They built her up as everyone else did, this unattainable, untouchable teenage wet dream who moved through the halls without pretenses.She joked with the jocks, traded jabs with the stoners, talked music with the goth kids, and studied with the smart ones.She attended every party, holding a revolving court for an hour or two before she’d excuse herself and graciously slip away from any guy who thought he had a shot.

So yeah, he knew the name Jocelyn Carter.

He knew she was wicked smart.Knew she dated Adam Klobbach from a town up the road for most of her senior year.Knew she stocked shelves at the grocer’s on weekends before she left Epson High with a full track scholarship to a fancy school out east.

And he knew Jocelyn Carter was the kind of girl guys like him avoided, something deep in their messed-up sense of propriety making sure their filth didn’t tarnish her shine.

The Baker boys were a lot of things, but they knew their place.

His phone buzzed in his hand and he answered it, snapping out of his daze.“Serpent’s Tongue Ink, Birch Baker here.”

“Well hello, Birch, I’m Jocelyn,” she stated, her voice simultaneously coming through the speaker and beside him.He turned to see her mimicking his position against the trunk of her car, her newly found phone held to her ear and a smirk on her lips.“One of the infamous Baker brothers, I presume?”

Pushing himself off the hood, he ended the call and slid his phone into his back pocket, inordinately pleased she knew his name and resigned to the reasons why.“The least infamous one.”

“Mediocre infamy isn’t a bad thing,” she stated, reaching into her car and grabbing her sunglasses.Sliding them on, she gave him a blatant once-over.“So tell me, Moderately Infamous Birch Baker, is there any way I can convince you to accept a late lunch, my treat, for your assistance this afternoon?”

*

Jocelyn sat ina worn leather chair in Serpent’s Tongue’s reception room, flipping through a binder of tattoo photos while Birch straightened up his desk.“Are all these your work?”

“Mine and Ryder Drayson’s,” he grunted, yanking a stubborn metal drawer open and dropping stacks of papers into it.“Most of our newer stuff is online now, but those give a decent idea of what we do here.”

Nodding, she turned the page.“This is impressive.I have the artistic skill of a potato.”

He slammed the drawer shut and walked over to the exit with a grin, holding the door open for her.“I’m sure your other talents more than make up for it.”Cringing, he exhaled.“Sorry.That came out way sleazier than it sounded in my head.”

She set the photo album aside, slid her sunglasses on, and hooked her purse over her shoulder.“I’ll overlook it this time because you’re a decent re-dialer.”Following him outside, she waited for him as he locked up the shop.“Why don’t we meet at Tracy’s Doghouse, if it’s still open?”

A few minutes later she was cruising down Fourth Avenue behind Birch’s old cherry-red pickup, scanning her former stomping grounds for familiar places and faces.

It had been three years since she last visited her family in Epson.Her work kept her closely tethered to the New Jersey court system since she finished her accounting degree nine years prior.And as much as she enjoyed coming home to the comforting familiarity of Epson’s streets, her parents preferred to make the trek to see her, using the opportunity to explore the east coast piece by piece until her father began making noise about retiring in Maine.

Birch signaled and slowed, and she followed suit.

Despite being older than the eldest Baker boy by a year, she was well aware of the family name and the scandals surrounding it.

Hell, even if Winter Baker hadn’t made national headlines with his conviction, she could never forget the whispers and warnings circulating about Colton Baker and his sons for years before the family patriarch met his end.

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