Page 18 of Desert Heat

The reminder of home and desert skies releases the dam of anger that fueled my reasons for being here.

Closing my eyes, I remember Danny and the job I need to do. With Regan’s words in my mind, I turn myself back from King of Santa Fe and back into college boy mode.

“Please,” she snorted. “I’ll never chase a man. I’m Savannah.”

“Never say never. Where you from,Savannah?”

“Texas.” She blew out a breath. “I was a real bitch in class. I wanted to apologize. The fresh keg I brought was for you. Where are you from?”

“You brought me an ice-cold keg as an apology gift… ?” This time I did look her straight in the face. “I grew up in a hellhole I prefer not to speak about.”Truth.

Her weight shifted in her boots; her teeth sink into those pretty plump lips.

“Sorry,” she winces, “I should’ve brought you two kegs.”

My eyes darkened as we stood close. The smell of her skin enveloping me in spiced vanilla; sweetness with a punch.

“A woman who apologizes like this is a keeper. Too bad you aren’t my type. I prefer big blondes. You see I have big hands. Huge ones.” I hold them up to her face, spreading my palms and fingers wide.

“No shit.”

“Blonde. Big. Get it? Not you. What a shame. Thanks for the apology though…”

“Are you walking away from me?”

“Not used to it?”

Her face turned red under her tan. “I take it back. My apology. You are an asshole.”

“Never said I wasn’t.”

I smirked as I walked away.

I found my keg, refilled and surveyed the scene. This was preschool shit compared to how we partied in Santa Fe.

“Here she comes. Oh yeah, baby.” Tank waggled his fingers in a wave like a fucking fool.

“What are you doing?” I swatted his hand down.

“Look at her. She’s my wet dream.”

Groaning, I took in the big, blonde walking toward us with a determined gleam in her eyes, Savannah whispering to her as they both giggled.

“Here, I found your dream girl and delivered.”

“Oh sweetheart, you shouldn’t have.”

She left me with this monstrosity of boobs, spray tanned skin, glitter makeup topped off with fake talon nails grazing my skin.

“Help,” I mouthed to Tank as she clung to my side.

“Hi, I’m Brandi.”

“And I’m out of here.”

“What?”

“He’s all yours. His name is Tank.”

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