Page 20 of Tough Nut to Crack

I reach down and adjust my cock, catching Ethan's eyes as he watches Zac get into his car and leave.

The college student spins his tires, but the older model Mazda just doesn't have the power needed to cause the scene he's hoping for. I shake my head and turn my back on the guys working so I can focus on Riley.

"You want me to repeat all of that?" she snaps, clearly annoyed with my lack of focus.

Hell, I'm annoyed that she has any effect on me at all.

"I just need you to come and cook a meal for the McGees," I say. "It doesn't have to be fancy."

"I'm not making chicken and dumplings," she says, picking up the conversation from the bar last week. "I'm available tomorrow. I can do a sampling menu and you can decide what you want me to cook for them."

"Tomorrow is great," I say. "But it can't be a sampling. It has to be the full meal."

"I think—"

"I already invited them," I explain. "So you'll just need to come and cook."

Silence fills the line for so long, I have to pull my phone away from my ear and stare down at the damn thing to make sure she hasn't hung up.

"Riley?"

"Let me get this straight. You promised someone in town that I'll cook for them without asking me, and you just assume that I'm free and can do what you want when you want me to do it."

"When you put it that way, it really makes me seem like an asshole," I mutter.

"Oh, there's no doubt that you're an asshole," she clarifies.

"I trust that what you make will be amazing," I say, trying to soften her mood.

I like it when she's feisty, but I can't have her being so angry that she refuses.

"I'm busy tomorrow."

"You just said you were available," I argue.

"I just had someone book through my online scheduling."

"Liar," I lament. "I checked your website. It hasn't been updated since last year."

"Word Press is hard for some people," she hisses.

"That's why you hire that shit out."

"Not everyone has enough work to keep them busy five days a week, Mr. I Get All The Jobs In Town."

"Maybe you'd have more work if you didn't lie about being busy."

Another lengthy silence fills the line, and this time I wait her out.

She may hate me. She may not want to work with me, but I know she needs this job as much as I need her to do it.

"They'll be at my house at six in the evening," I explain. "I figure you can determine what time you need to be there with that information. I look forward to tasting you. Your food I mean. See you tomorrow."

I hang up, feeling like a complete fucking idiot.

It's clear that the woman hates me, but there was no faking what we shared last week. Hate sex can be great sex, right? She doesn't have to like me to come on my cock.

I pray that I'm right and that she won't forgo a business opportunity because I was a dick. It's not like I'll ever explain to her why I did it.

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