Page 30 of That Kiss

“Huh?” I look up from my phone, the message from Juniper putting a smile on my face.

“Looks like you slept with a damn hanger in your mouth.”

“Nah, just in a good mood. Excited to go schmooze with a bunch of rich assholes.”

“We’re rich assholes,” my dad grumbles from the driver’s seat of the Range Rover.

“Yeah, we’re rich assholes, but they’re slimy rich assholes. There’s a difference,” I reply as I type out a response to Juniper.

Me: OK, we can absolutely have that talk. I won’t be home till late tonight. You want to come over?

“How has Juney liked taking over for her dad?”

The second Ranger says her name, I see my dad’s eyes flash to me in the rearview mirror. He’s always seen the way she looked at me growing up. Hell, everyone teased her about it, but the older I got and the older she got, the less my dad joked about us. The last time he said anything to me about her was the night of the party—the night I kissed her. He didn’t know about that, but he saw us talking, which was followed by one of his stern reminders not to hurt her, and that her father is his best friend.

“She likes it,” I shrug, acting nonchalant, “at least that’s what I hear.” My phone buzzes with a reply from her.

Juniper: Was that a segue into a booty call, sir?

I laugh, knowing the exact look that was on her face when she typed out that message.

“Shit, now you’re giggling?” Ranger looks over at me and I glance up in the mirror to make sure my dad’s eyes are on the road before I give him a small shake of my head. He gets the message, turning back around and talking to my dad about our meeting.

Me: Wouldn’t dream of it. I’m a gentleman . . . remember?

Me: But speaking of booty, can’t get an image out of my head . . . the one of your naked ass up in the air with my cock stuffed inside you.

The three dancing dots appear then disappear then reappear again. I hope she’s blushing, a pink glow spreading across her chest, her fingers typing furiously beneath her desk as she tries to hide her screen from prying eyes.

“Son,” my dad interrupts my daydream, “I talked to your cousins down in Texas. I think you made the right move coming back, Deck. The boys down there needed a more wild terrain. Something exciting for them to tame. The cowboys here have never been more organized with the pasture repairs and migrations this season.”

“I agree,” Ranger adds, “and now Dolly isn’t threatening to castrate me every night coming home at 10 p.m.”

My phone buzzes again.

Juniper: Great, now my shirt is wet from spitting out my coffee.

I smile. This naughty little game we’re playing is exciting.

Me: More importantly, is your pussy wet? Throbbing? Begging to be filled again?

Fuck me, I know I’m playing too close to the edge with all this. It was only supposed to be one night—fuck, it wasn’t supposed to happen at all, but then I wasn’t going to do it again. But seeing her later, smelling her next to me at the bar, I couldn’t stop myself. I’m not sure I can stop myself now.

“Do that Apple thing where you play the music through the truck.” My dad points toward the radio.

I’ve shown the man half a dozen times how his phone automatically connects and he can control it from the screen, but he has no interest in learning. Instead, I switch it to my phone and select a country mix from back in his day.

“But anyway, Deck, I need you focused today. I know you boys hate this part of the job, but I guarantee you, I hate it more. Taking over for my seat on the board means this kind of stuff—not just the perks with the private jet and the box seats at Avs games. And while I understand that the ranch is far more exciting than an office at the brewery, we all have to do our part.”

“I understand, Dad,” I say with sincerity when I look up from my phone, because even though he’s right and I hate putting on a monkey suit and groveling to people who don’t actually give a shit about my family or our legacy, I can’t fall back on being young and dumb anymore. And more importantly, I don’t want to. “I’m ready for the responsibility.”

The music is interrupted with an alert from my phone and my stomach drops. Thinking with my dick really must scramble my brains, because I completely forgot that my phone was connected to my dad’s truck.

“Text from Juniper Riley.”

“Fuck.” I barely get the word out before she reads Juniper’s response over the speakers in the truck.

“Wet and throbbing but I’m afraid you’ll split me in two.”

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