Page 11 of Blame It On Midnight

“I’d say that you coming to Montana was a waste of time.”

“That’s your opinion.”

“Lady, in this case, my opinion is the only one that matters.”

“Collins.”

“What?”

“Collins.” She smiled and there was that damn dimple again. “That’s my name, Benton.”

“I liked it better when we had the anonymous thing going on.”

“Is that the only kind of sex you like?”

“Is that what you want?” He pulled her close so that she could feel the erection he’d been sporting since he inhaled that heady scent of hers. “A quick fuck in the barn? Because I’m fine bending you over that bale of hay. But when we’re done I don’t want to talk or hold your hand or listen to your dreams or any of that shit.”

“Why are you so angry?” Her question surprised him, and he found himself at a loss for words.

Benton pushed her away and took a few moments to get his shit together. When he did, he looked her way so there was no mistaking his meaning.

“You never answered my question.”

“What one was that exactly?” She all but batted her damn eyes at him.

“How old are you?”

“Old enough.”

“Only a kid would give that answer. You’re too young and I’m not into games. If you came to Montana to fuck a cowboy I’d suggest you head into Big Bend and grab a stool at The Sundowner. It’s Saturday. You shouldn’t have a problem finding someone to take out back and give you what it is you came for.”

He left her there, a bitter taste in his mouth, his mood much blacker than when he’d arrived. He’d seen the flash of hurt in her eyes, which made it worse.

As he crossed the yard, Bent glanced at his watch and winced. He had at least a couple of hours to get through before he could make an excuse and take Nora home.

In the end, they were two of the longest hours he’d ever had the pleasure of living. The only good thing to happen was that Collins seemed to have disappeared. Maybe she’d taken his advice and gone to town. Whatever the deal was, she wasn’t his problem.

He knew a headache when he saw one, and Collins Lafferty was one hell of a headache. His life was complicated enough and he sure as shit didn’t have the bandwidth for someone like her. He almost felt sorry for the dumb bastard who did.

Benton didn’t think too much about it. Pushed Collins to the back of his mind because, as much as he knew she wasn’t good for him, a part of him wanted her. What part that was exactly didn’t matter so much because there was no sense dwelling on it.

As he perused the party, he took note that she didn’t return; he hoped like hell she took his advice and left. At least, that’s what he told himself.

Chapter Four

Collins Lafferty had gone and screwed things up. How could she have miscalculated so badly? She sat under a tree about a hundred feet from the house and glumly stared up through the branches. The large Gucci sunglasses kept her eyes shaded, so she was able to watch a small swallow hop from branch to branch. It looked as anxious as she felt.

With a sigh, she pulled her cell from her pocket and stared down at the phone. There were several messages from her agent. One with an expletive and instructions to call her back immediately. There was a message from Bridget, her oldest and best friend. Collins read it over quickly but wasn’t in the mood to respond. Bridget was the only one on the planet save for her brother Kip, who knew about Benton. They’d both romanticized this stunt for weeks now, and she didn’t have the heart to tell Bridget she’d screwed up.

His rejection stung, no way around it, and she was deflated. Collins was not used to feeling this way.

“What am I going to do?” she muttered, eyes on the house. The sounds of the party were in full swing, but no way could she go back there. Not after throwing herself at a man who wanted nothing to do with her.

“So he says,” she whispered, thinking of the heat between them. Remembering his touch and taste.

Then she remembered his scowl and the nasty words he’d slung at her, and she began to burn. Not from the sun, but because she was so damn angry. At herself. At Benton. At the damn world. Not to be a conceited piece of work, but Collins knew she could literally have any man she wanted. So why did God think it fair to let her fall in love with the one man on the planet who seemed to have no interest in her?

Ugh. She kicked out her foot and stubbed her toe on a root, then, restless, got to her feet. Maybe she would head to town. Go back to the Sundowner and find a hot cowboy to take off the edge. A guy who’d make her forget her night with Benton Bridgestone.

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