Page 88 of The Back Forty
God, I want to tell her she’s not. That she’s perfect. That the shitty bar lighting makes the caramel streaks in her eyes burn like gold and that I can’t stop looking at her. That I want her tongue on meinstead of cleaning her chin. I want it in my mouth. Down my neck. On my cock. Everywhere.
But I don’t. Because I promised myself that I’d stop wanting things I can’t have. Because I’m trying to be the good guy. The boss. The friend. All the things I used to be without trying…before I knew what her skin felt like beneath my palms.
I’m still carrying Cash’s advice with me.“You let her lead, man. Don’t chase what might break you. Show her you can talk about something other than work.”
And I’m trying. I really am. But watching her across from me now, laughing, cheeks flushed, lips slick with beer and cheese is killing me even if I'm not showing it.
“This bar,” she says suddenly, twirling a chip in a string of cheese before popping it into her mouth, “is it the one where you picked up that blonde chick the last time we were here?”
I blink, surprised. “What?” Because I know what she's talking about, but I hoped she wouldn't be thinking about that right now.
She covers her mouth with her hand as she chews, grinning like she already knows she got me.
“Oh, come on,” she says with a shrug. “You didn't think I'd remember that?”
Shit. Guess she was paying more attention than I thought.
“I heard you guys that night, you know. Our hotel rooms were right next to each other.”
I freeze, throat tightening as I sit up straighter because this is the opposite of what Cash told me to do. This is actually the worst possible scenario. “Dani—”
“It’s fine,” she cuts in, casual but not unkind. “I mean… I get it. It gets lonely being on the road a lot.”
Natalie was a familiar face. We hadn’t seen each other in years, but we caught up, flirted, fell into something easy. I took her back to my hotel room, and we did what two lonely, grown adults do when they don’t know what else they need.
And then I sent her home in a ride share I paid for and never talked to her again.
It meant nothing and the whole time I was thinking about the way Dani looked with her hair pulled up in that bun during dinner. But now, with Dani looking at me like that, like she remembers everything, I can’t help but wish I’d never taken Natalie back to that room in the first place.
I'm a fucking idiot.
“Yes, it used to get lonely, being on the road,” I say calmly. “And yeah, every now and then, I’d entertain some company.”
“Occasionally?” Dani arches a brow, one of those subtle movements that says she’s not buying all of it.
I meet her gaze evenly. “I didn’t sleep with every woman I talked to on a trip, Dani.”
She leans back, arms crossed loosely over her chest, lips twitching like she’s trying to hide her grin. “Could’ve fooled me.”
I lift a brow. “You're thinking something that isn't true. I'm a nice guy, a lot of the women who chatted with me at bars andback at the hotel were for networking and sales opportunities. I didn't sleep with them all.”
A faint blush creeps up her neck, brushing over her cheeks, betraying the calm exterior she’s trying so hard to keep. I chuckle and shake my head slowly because no matter how careful we both try to be, her body doesn’t lie. Just like mine doesn’t. There’s something electric between us, there always has been, I just wish she could see there's more to me than what she thinks.
“You don’t have to believe me,” I say, my voice softer now. “But it’s true. Natalie was just an old college friend. It meant absolutely nothing.”Just like every woman before.
Dani hums, lips pursed around the rim of her bottle as she takes another sip. “I always thought the women looked a little extra beautiful in the mornings,” she says casually. “I used to text Isla and say it must’ve been the famous Lawson facial.”
And there she is. The old Dani. Sharp, funny, bold enough to make a joke like that and still not quite meet my eyes afterward.
I let out a bark of laughter, head tilting back, hand slapping the sticky bar table. God, it feels good to laugh like that. To laugh withheragain.
She smiles harder.
“I think you have the wrong impression, sweetheart, but I can say it got a hell of a lot harder to even look at another woman once you started working for me.”
Her smile falters just slightly as she reaches for another chip, breaking the string of cheese before popping it in her mouth, very pointedly avoiding eye contact now.
“Because you felt like you had to hide it from me?” she asks quietly.
