Page 17 of Westin

“You can wear mine,” I say.

She bites her lip and glances at me again. I can tell that tickles her, because she has to turn to cover her smile.

We head down a side road leading to a one-lane town about ten miles from Carter Farms. It’s got a post office, a gas station, and a grocery store, plus a creek that leads to a swimming hole a little ways down. That’s as good as it’s going to get for a date out here.

“What’s your middle name, Westin Quinn?” she asks, shifting to face me.

“Why?”

“I’m curious about the man taking me out.”

“River,” I say. “Westin River Quinn.”

“Who do you work for?” Her jaw works, like she’s interrogating me.

“Gerard Sovereign. And I don’t work for him—I workwithhim.”

Her brows rise. “I know who that is, but I’ve never met him.”

I glance down, distracted by her bare thigh. The window is cracked, and the air blows her skirt up a few inches. Her thigh is so smooth and tanned. I’d like to run my palm up and down it, maybe grip right above her knee.

Fuck me, I’d do anything to feel both those soft thighs wrapped around my head.

“Do you like it?”

I tear my eyes away. “Working with Sovereign? Yeah, I do. I have partial shares in the farm, I live on it, and I work when and how I choose. What’s not to like?”

She mulls this over. “How’d you meet?”

“We were friends as kids.”

Her eyes get distant. “That sounds nice. I’ve…never had any real friends. We live so far out of the way, and Nana did most of our schooling.”

That strikes me as sad. I know David Carter well enough to know that he’s not the type to think about anyone else. If I had to guess, she has been cooped up on the farm doing chores and cooking for most of her life. I know I’ve never seen her in town before.

Lost in thought, I pull off the road on the other side of the town. There’s a gravel stretch and a dirt path that runs down to the creek. Across the road is a little convenience store with a single gas pump.

I get out of the truck, circle it, and lean in her open window. She chews her lip, suddenly shy.

“You want to come inside?” I ask. “Or should I pick something out for you?”

She smiles. “I trust your judgment,” she says.

“Alright,” I say. “I’ll take my keys so you can’t make a run for it.”

She smiles. “I’m not making a run for it, Mr. Quinn.”

I take my hat off and fit it on her head. “Be right back.”

The store is empty except for a man smoking on the porch and the clerk. I move through the aisle to the deli at the back and pick up two sandwiches. There’s a liquor shelf and a row of cigarettes below it, so I grab two bottles of green tea and a whiskey before I head to the front.

I’m almost to the register when the kiosk by the door stops me short. Medicine, bandages…and condoms. Pausing, I look down at the minimal options.

Do I need a condom today?

What are my intentions with her?

If I had my way, I’d pull that truck off in a private space and lift her into my lap. I’d let her unfasten my belt and take my cock out. I’d dig my hands into her soft hips and work her down onto my length.

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