Page 48 of Tee’d Up For Trouble

“You know, Hallmark romance movies? Boy meets girl?—”

“You’re not aboy, and I’m not agirl.”

“True, considering a boy wouldn’t have my equipment.”

“Ugh!” She feigned annoyance, but she was amused. I was relieved. I didn’t want her to freak out or be afraid or worry about what having sex meant because if she saw what I really wanted, she’d bolt faster than a sheep spotting the shears.

“Well, in Hallmark romances?—”

“I know what Hallmark is,” she cut me off. “You think this is a romance?” Now, she was at ease because she wrapped her arms around me. Her panties fell on the bed.

“Oh, baby, I hope so because I plan on sweepin’ you off your feet.”

“I don’t really regret last night,” she confessed.

“I know.”

“But I want to.”

“Know that too.” I kissed her lips.

“Do I annoy you?”

“No.”

“Am I a pain in your arse?”

I raised an eyebrow. “I’d never say no to a prostate?—”

“Get your feckin’ mind out of the gutter.” She began to laugh and pushed me off of her. I rolled onto my back and watched her get out of bed.

“We doin’ this again, Dee,” I told her.

“I’m going to get hurt.”

“How?”

She shook her head and walked to the door, not looking at me. I shifted up the bed and stacked pillows, so I could sit up against the headboard. “Last night was amazing. I don’t regret it for a second. Why do youwantto?”

She froze again, her shoulders stiffening like I’d just touched a nerve. When she finally turned to face me, her expression wasn’t angry anymore—it was guarded. Hurt.

“Because”—she finally let me see her eyes, they were shining—"this doesn’t end well for me, Jax.” Her voice trembled just enough to make my chest tighten. “I can’t do that again.”

“Do what again?” I asked gently. I wanted to get to her, to hold her, but she was like a skittish filly—and if there was one thing I knew about horses, it was that patience was everything.

“Get close to someone,” she admitted, her voice rising. “Let them in. Hope for something I know won’t last. Because it never lasts, Jax. People leave. People betray me.”

For a moment, I didn’t know what to say. It was obvious that her scars ran deep.

“I won’t.”

“You don’t know that,” she countered.

I held my hand out to her.

She came to me, and if I were standing, my knees would’ve buckled with relief.

She took it and sat down by me on the bed. I stroked a cheek. She didn’t pull away. Her eyes searched mine as if she were waiting for some epiphany to strike.

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