Page 65 of Ride a Cowboy

Oh, hell no. She was about to tell the guy to circle the block a few times, but Joel spoke before she could make the suggestion.

“Thanks.” He handed the guy a twenty, told him to keep the change and then he got out, reaching to help her. When she heard a second door close, she realized Oakley had gotten out too.

The cab drove away, leaving her on the curb, hot and bothered and still not alone.

“Did the plan change? I thought the taxi was taking you guys to the ranch.”

Oakley chuckled. “Do you want us to call him back?”

She shook her head. “Fuck no.”

Oakley gave her a sexy grin that made her pussy gush, but Joel’s face revealed something way more dangerous.

She was tipsy. So were they. None of them would be here if they hadn’t had so much to drink. Sober Sadie would have sent them packing.

Sober Sadie can suck it. She’s no fun at all. Lame bitch.

“So, are you guys coming up?” Jesus. Where did that sexy, come-hither tone come from?

Joel nodded slowly, though she thought, like her, he was slowly starting to figure out this wasn’t somewhere they should be. Oakley didn’t give either of them time to let that realization take root. He clasped hands with her and led her up the stairs to the entrance of her apartment building.

When they reached the top, she glanced over her shoulder, relieved to see Joel was following them.

Relieved? Really?

When he reached out to take her key from her, unlocking the front door with big calloused hands that led her imagination down some hot paths, she knew that, yeah, she was relieved he was still here.

She lived in a three-story apartment building. Back in the day, the place had been a storage warehouse. About ten years ago, the owner sold the property to a big-city developer who converted it into three studio apartments. The place was damn trendy for small-town Maris, which was why she’d fallen head over heels for it. She’d scored the top floor eight years earlier when she started to fear she’d smother her father in his sleep if she didn’t get out of her childhood home.

She loved her old man, but not as a damn roommate. First of all, he stifled her sex life. Bastard liked to show her dates his gun collection whenever they came to pick her up, and then he’d insist they bring her home at a reasonable hour. Like she was still a teenager in high school rather than a grown woman of twenty-five. No matter how hard she tried to break him of that habit, it was still there. Even now. In her dad’s eyes, no one would ever be good enough for her. It was sweet, but annoying as crap.

Secondly, he was a freaking slob and she’d hit her limit when it came to picking up his shit.

“Nice place,” Joel said when they entered her apartment. Neither he nor Oakley had ever been here before.

Because she’d never been stupid enough to get three sheets to the wind with them.

Because alcohol made her do crazy things.

Because her libido always switched into overdrive around them so she knew putting them anywhere near her and a bed would be the wrong thing to do.

“Yeah. I like it,” she replied, distracted by the thought of her bed. Had she made it this morning? Did she have anything lying out in her bedroom that would be potentially embarrassing? Panties on the floor? Birth control pills? Vibrator?

Bringing both of them back to her place was ranking fairly high on her list of insane life choices. Right after getting her first boyfriend’s initials tattooed on her ass. That tat had been turned into a butterfly after the breakup.

It also ranked after crashing her beloved first motorcycle into a tree because she’d taken a turn too fast. In addition to losing her sweet bike, she’d broken her leg in three places.

Those two decisions were worse than this one.

But not by much.

“Take a look around if you want,” she said, inviting Oakley and Joel to roam around. She had eclectic tastes and it showed in her décor. She was sort of curious to know what they thought of it.

“Who took all the black-and-white photos?” Oakley asked, pointing to the pictures on the wall.

“Me. I went through a photography phase a few years back.”

“They’re good. Really good.” Oakley’s expression matched his words. He wasn’t just bullshitting her, and she was flattered.

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