Page 54 of Pretty Wild

“No, I don’t suppose she is,” he says, turning back to the front end of the car he’s working on. “Oh, Marcus? It’s okay to have fun every now and again, and I’m not talking about whatever in the hell you do when you go to Hudson. She’s here for a fewweeks. Have fun. Enjoy life a little. There’s a lot more to it than just working all the time.”

With that, he spins around and disappears beneath the hood of the car.

I return my attention on the wheel, but I can’t help but think about Ryan. I recall every second of our night together, including the fact she practically jumped up and walked back to her cabin after we were done. She told me thanks for the good time and disappeared before I even had a chance to redress.

Kinda like how I am with the women I encounter in Hudson.

It was the arrangement I was familiar and comfortable with, yet I can’t help but wish she would have stayed. For another round? Sure. But also because I craved her in my bed.

Ryan turned out to be a lot more…adventurous than I expected. From the moment she rolled over on her hands and knees, I was a goner. And not just because I was horny and hadn’t had sex in about four months. It was her. She was a slice of wild I wasn’t expecting and drew out every domineering and alpha side I possessed. And the best part was, she seemed to crave it too. Letting me take control. Straddling the line between rough and too rough, which I don’t think we crossed. Not if the satisfied smile on her lips was any indication.

I shift myself so Dale can’t see the wood I’m suddenly sporting, thanks to the vivid memories of my night with Ryan. I just get the wheel completely tightened when I hear my name being called across the shop.

“Marcus! You have a visitor!” Gladys hollers over the noise.

I glance over at the office but don’t see anyone through the picture window. With a sigh, I grab the towel and wipe smudges of grease and dirt off my hand. I wonder who it is? Usually if it’s a customer, Gladys takes care of them. That’s why she works here, even if it’s just part time in the mornings.

“A visitor, huh?”

I glance over to the Buick and find Dale sticking his head around the hood, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

“Stop it, old man,” I grumble, making my way to the shop office, his laughter following me with each step I take.

Pushing through the doorway between the shop and the office, I come face-to-face with the woman I spent a portion of last night with. Ryan looks completely out of place here, even if she’s wearing tiny little black shorts, a fitted T-shirt, and a ball cap on her head. She still looks regal and beautiful, and while the office isn’t completely coated in grime and filth, it’s still an auto shop office. Gladys helps keep the floors clean and the counter dusted off, but it’s nowhere near the standards or cleanliness I’m sure she’s accustomed to.

“Hey,” I say when she offers me a small smile.

“Hi.”

I glance over at Gladys, feeling her eyes on me. She’s grinning, taking in our exchange with an eagerness I’ve never seen before. “Everything all right?” I ask, wondering if there’s an issue at the cabin.

“Oh, yes,” she replies with an awkward chuckle. Her chocolate-brown eyes move to Gladys at the counter. “Umm, do you have a minute? I know you’re busy, so I won’t take long.”

“Sure.” I point to the open office door behind Gladys. “In here.”

Ryan follows me inside the small space and turns around as I shut the door. I can’t help but wonder if Gladys is running to find a glass to place against the wall or door.

“I won’t take up much of your time,” she quickly says. “I know you’re busy working. I was in the neighborhood,” she adds, making me internally smile, because Pine Village is small enough, it’s kinda one big neighborhood. The whole town.

“Anyway, I was nearby,” she continues, holding my gaze. “Do you want to grab lunch?”

Her question surprises me, and I’m certain it shows on my face.

“If not, that’s okay. Like I said, I was just in the neighborhood, and it’s almost lunchtime, so I thought?—”

“Okay.”

“Really?” Her entire face lights up.

I take off my ball cap and run my fingers through my hair. “Yeah, well, I’ll have to say something to Dale and Gladys. I don’t usually take lunch.”

“Why not?”

I shrug. “There are only so many hours in the day, I guess, and I want to get as much done as I possibly can.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” she insists.

“No, it’s fine. I haven’t eaten anything today, so a quick lunch wouldn’t hurt.”

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