Page 26 of Wasted On You

“Why not? You just said everyone knows this charity gig isn’t real.”

“Kip wouldn’t like it,” she said after a few moments, lifting her chin, decision made. It was bull, but she had no qualms about using it as an excuse. Ivy had no plans to attend the charity event.

“Your so-called fiancé wouldn’t give a flying fuck if you bid on me.”

“What do you mean so-called?” Annoyed, she glared at the man.

He gave her a look that said it all.Busted. They’d had too many conversations fueled by vodka and wine and long, lonely nights on the road when neither of them could sleep. Ivy sighed, and with shoulders slumped forward, considered her answer.

“Has Cal ever said anything to you about me and Kip?”

“No. He’s wrapped up in Millie Sue and their new little boy. He’s not paying attention to anything but them.” A sly smile touched his face. “But I’ve noticed some things.”

“What things? She asked, maybe a little too aggressively.

Ollie raised his eyebrows. “If I were to take a walk about this home, maybe check out the guest bedroom, would I find it in use?”

How in the actual hell? “How did you…why would…” Ivy sputtered over her words before swearing and looking away.

“It’s none of my business, and I don’t care what’s going on here. I figure you’ll tell me when you’re ready, which brings me back round to the reason for my visit. Can I count on you tonight?”

Just then, her cell phone pinged, and she held up her hand before crossing over to the large, overstuffed chair in the living room. She’d left her phone there the night before. There were a bunch of messages—she ignored the ones from her mother—and clicked on the most recent, from Kip. She read it over and made a face. His plane was delayed because of a snowstorm, and he wasn’t sure when he’d be back.

Great.

“You’ve no excuse now.”

Ivy nearly jumped out of her skin when Ollie spoke, his voice close to her ear. It was obvious he’d read her message, and she glared at him over her shoulder. “That was private.”

“It was.” He grinned. “And now you have no excuse.”

“Ollie,” she began, already tired, and she’d only been up for less than an hour.

“Don’t, Ollie, me.” He stood back, a thoughtful look on his face. “Look, I’ll make this easy. You help me out, then I’ll owe you.”

“What does that mean exactly?”

“Pretty self-explanatory, Luv,” he answered with a wink. “I’ll owe you a favor.”

“So, if I call you in the middle of the night and you’re getting busy with some local woman, you know, one of the ones you have no time for, you’ll?—”

“Drop everything and come running.” A slow grin touched his face. “Come on, Ivy. You’ve nothing else on. Help a mate out.”

He was laying it on thick, and she set down her cup. “Why?”

“Why, what?”

“Why are you so adamant about me being the one to win the date? Who are you trying to avoid?”

A tick appeared near the corner of his eye, and his gaze slid away from hers. “That damn Tabitha woman is relentless. I made the mistake of having a go with her between the sheets, and now she won’t leave me alone.”

Tabitha Bailey was the kind of woman who was used to getting what she wanted. Mostly because she usually did. Of course, the fact that she was beautiful certainly helped. It was just too bad that the amount of beauty she possessed wasn’t matched by an actual personality. She was vapid, mean-spirited, and demanding.

I wonder if Mike Paul’s screwed her.

The thought snuck in, and she immediately shook it off. She didn’t give a rat’s ass if Mike Paul and Tabitha had knocked boots, even if the chances were pretty damn high. He was Mike Paul after, the biggest charmer in Big Bend, and she was, well, Tabitha fucking Bailey.

“You look like a cat just peed in your cuppa.”

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