Page 30 of Simon Says

He stepped out of the truck and started to say something—he didn’t know what—but she sped away, tires squealing, rain puddle splashing to drench his legs. The door swung shut on its own.

Standing there in the pouring rain, Simon watched her truck disappear from sight. Well, shit. None of that had gone at all as he’d hoped. He hadn’t even gotten a small taste of her, much less the full-blown release he’d hoped for.

Rain soaked him to the skin. His brain churned. His guts burned. Never in his life had he found himself in such a position. He always knew just what to do, when to do it, and how to do it. Hadn’t he walked out on Bonnie without a single regret?

But now…it felt like he had many loose ends, most of them surrounding an uncontrollable need to have Dakota Dream in his bed.

With nothing else to do, Simon started walking toward the gym, which was still a block away. He paid no attention to the rain.

His real father’s name was Barnaby.

What could the man possibly want after all this time?

STRETCHEDout on her hotel bed, a gigantic bowl of popcorn balanced on her abdomen, an ice-cold Coke leaving another ring on the already ruined nightstand, Dakota wallowed in her defeat. Light from the television flickered around the darkened room, but she had no idea what was playing. She’d yet to taste either the popcorn or the cola.

Damn, damn, damn.

It had been three days since she’d forced Simon from her truck and into the rain. Three days of rethinking and wishing and…regrets. Shehatedregrets. God knew she’d lived with enough of them plaguing her for most of her life.

Why did she let Simon get to her? And with his refusal so final, why was she still sitting in a hotel room in Harmony, Kentucky? By now, she should have packed up her meager belongings and moved on to something less annoying. Singing jobs awaited her. Work would help distract her. She had a life elsewhere. Sort of. If you could call her day-to-day existence “life.”

She liked Simon, she realized. She respected him. Worse, she was very attracted to him when no man had drawn her in years.

But he’d thought her no more than a quick lay.

Bastard.

Closing her eyes, Dakota imagined how she could have done things differently. But she’d been over that scenario a hundred times. She’d chewed it every way imaginable, and always come to the same conclusion: Simon deserved better than Barnaby.

So maybe she hadn’t really put her heart into convincing him. Maybe she’d even done the right thing by not getting his agreement, and now she should let him—

Her cell phone buzzed, vibrating over the nightstand until it bumped into the Coke. Great. A diversion.

Not bothering to check the number, she snatched it up, hoping to hear the voice of a friend, or even a salesman. “Yeah?”

“How are things progressing, Dakota?”

Barnaby. A familiar lead weight settled around her. Slowly, she set the popcorn aside and sat up. “They aren’t. Progressing, that is.”

“Explain that please.”

Oh, she’d explain all right. “Funny thing, Barnaby, but Simon wants nothing to do with you.”

Two heartbeats of silence passed before Barnaby gave an audible sigh. “You need to convince him, honey.”

“I’m no one’s honey.” The words were harsher than she’d intended, but not since her ill-fated marriage and demolishing divorce had she willingly been “honey” to anyone.

“Convince him, Dakota.”

“Impossible.” She took a measure of glee in telling Barnaby the truth. “Things were going fine, he seemed nice enough, then I mentioned you and he became a real dick. Seems he doesn’t like you much. Odd, since he hasn’t even met you, huh? Then again, maybe his mother told him all about—”

“I doubt his mother ever mentioned me, one way or the other. But if she did, she would have kept it brief.”

“Really?” That sounded odd. “How come?”

“Shall we discuss mothers, honey? There are plenty of things I haven’t told you yet.”

God, Dakota hated herself for asking, but she couldn’t stop herself. “Yeah? Like what?”

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